#also he has a hood not a hat. the camp jacket just goes over the black hoodie | Explore Tumblr posts and blogs

softboywriting · 4 years ago

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Hate To Love You | Poe Dameron

Summary: You and Poe have been friends since you arrived at the Resistance base three years ago. Well, friends who often want to strangle each other as much as they want to take the other to bed. After a solo mission gone wrong you get teamed up with Poe for a follow up mission on Canto Bight. The two of you together under the right circumstances may lead to something neither of you can resist, and confessions that can’t be taken back. [Star wars universe] [nsfw themes no smut] [fluff] [fr-enemies to lovers [[sort of]]

Word Count: 6k

|Masterlist In Bio|

You find yourself in a bad area of Kajimi while on an intel mission for Leia. There is supposedly a man with information about the location of an abandoned First Order fleet ship that would be an excellent salvage opportunity. Stars above know the Resistance can use all the weapons and ship parts they can get their hands on. You went in alone, opting to leave behind your usual partner Daya, while she was laid up from a blaster burn. It was supposed to be an easy job. You go into Kajimi City, go to a cantina called Knicks and meet a man in an emerald green robe. He would give you a holopad and you would leave. Of course that does not happen.

You enter the cantina and immediately note that it is absolutely packed from wall to wall. It's loud, as most are, and you make your way around, looking for the man in the emerald robe. It's hard to see as it's barely lit. It's a divey place, sketchiness oozes from every inch of the establishment. Bad things, illegal things, happen here. You keep your head down, pull your hood up and keep moving.

"Oh look at her! Hey honey, gimme some of that body." Some guy hollers as you pass him.

You step forward and push past two big aliens that are conversing in grunts. You cannot stand being hit on. It's so irritating. You wore baggy jumpsuit pants and one of Poe's jackets to make yourself seem shapeless. Apparently that didn't work as well as you hoped. You wish the contact would show up or make himself seen because you're not keen on asking the barkeep about him. Last time you did that it ended badly, as the person you were after was not well liked.

There isn't much time to worry about all of that when a loud boom shakes the cantina, causing a hush to fall over the crowded room.

"First Order! Run!" Someone yells and then panic erupts.

You're jostled around as patrons begin to hurry for the exit. This sucks, there is no way you're going to get the intel now. Fuck it. You head for the exit, squeezing past a few droids to get out into the cold night air. Sure enough there are stormtroopers everywhere grabbing people left and right. You duck into an alley and head for anywhere that is not the middle of town.

The alley goes to a dead end that has an open sewer tunnel grate. It's better than nothing. You'll camp out in the tunnels and wait until things settle down topside. You slide past the bars and head into the dark passageway, pulling your flashlight out for a better visual. Unfortunately you don't make it too far before you come face to face with a blaster as you enter a dim lit tunnel.

"How'd you find this place?" The woman on the other end of the blaster says. "You're not part of the crew."

"I ran from the stormtroopers and slipped through an open sewer grate. I don't mean any harm."

"That jacket, where'd you get it?"

You look down and back up. "Uh, someone gave it to me?"

The woman walks forward, blaster still trained on you. "I know this jacket. Who are you?"

"I'm with the resistance. I can leave, I will find another place to stay until the stormtroopers clear out."

"What's your name?"

You swallow thickly. Why does your name matter? And why is she obsessed with this jacket? "Dameron. My name is Dameron."

"Dameron? Poe Dameron? Are you related?"

Oh fuck. She knows Poe. Shit. Fuck. He told you he once had bad luck on Kajimi, but he also said he had friends there. He never specified exactly what bad luck meant, but of course you'd run into someone who knew him. It's a fifty fifty chance, either this person is a friend or an enemy and you're gonna have to roll the dice. "He's my...husband?"

She scoffs. "He's alive? That son of a bitch. I should tea-"

"Zorii! They've taken Burnham!" Someone shouts from down the tunnel.

The woman makes a noise of annoyance. "Listen, you tell Poe if he ever steps foot on Kajimi again I will have his head on a platter and serve the rest of him to a sand worm. And if I see him outside if Kajimi it's on sight. Got it?"

"Yep. Got it." You turn and head back to the entrance of the tunnels. Sweat runs down your back and you walk faster, feeling the wall for guidance. You're too afraid to turn your light back on in case Zorii comes after you. You're done taking chances today, it's time to get back to your ship and get back to base. Fuck the intel.

_____________________

"Hey! You made it back!" Poe cheers, clapping you on the back as soon as you enter the command center. He's the only one in there, seemingly going over the latest attack plans on a First Order base. "How was Kajimi? Did you get the coordinates?"

"No, I didn't." You pull off your hat and gloves, slapping them on the table. "Do you know a woman named Zorii?"

Poe's face pales, eyes wide. "Perhaps, why?"

"I ran into her on accident. She recognized your jacket!" You pluck at the leather collar. "I'm fairly certain I'm lucky to be alive."

"Whoa hold on, did you say it was mine?"

"Sort of? I don't know, she asked my name and I said Dameron because I didn't want to give my real name because safety and whatever and I didn’t think any more of it. But of course she knew you! And she seemed to think you were dead. Wanna explain?"

"You gave my name?!" Poe grabs his hair and turns away, pacing the length of the star chart console. "Fuck! What did you tell her? I need to know. Did you say you were my sister? My cousin? My child?"

"First of all I'm too old to be your child you idiot. I said wife."

"Wife?! Oh for ewoks sake. You told her I was married?!"

You shrug the jacket off and throw it on a console. "I took a chance Poe! I had no idea if she was a friend or a foe!"

"Oh you took a chance alright. I'm so fucking dead now."

"Why? She was pissed but how bad can it be?"

Poe laughs debilitatingly. "Faking my own death to get out of the crew and join the resistance? Is that bad? Or hold how about this, I faked my death and we were seeing each other at the time I did."

Your jaw drops. "Poe Dameron! You did what?!"

"Yeah! Yeah, no I know! I'm a huge piece of shit but I did what I had to do to keep my ass alive."

You throw your hands up and turn away, walking toward the seating area. "You couldn't just break up with her like a normal person? No?"

"It wasn't about her, it was about leaving the crew."

"Then just leave!"

"Just leave? You have no idea how much shit that would put me in. I faked my death to sever all ties. Spice runners don't let people just leave when you know about their production and-"

"SPICE?!"

"Yeah that's what I said. We all have a past, don't start with me." He groans and sinks down into a chair. "I'm so fucking dead."

"You're only dead if you set foot on Kajimi. Just don't go there."

"Ah, yeah sure. Didn't plan on that regardless. The point isn't that I want to go back to Kajimi one day, it's a shit hole anyway, it's that Zorii knows I'm not dead and I lied to her. She's going to be furious and probably come after my ass."

"Well she can't miss it."

Poe gives you a death stare. "I'm aware my ass is big. Believe me, the seats in the falcon remind me every fucking time. I don't need this right now." He stands and heads for the exit as a few Captains enter. You watch as he leaves and turn your chair toward the console behind it, burying your face in your hands and sighing heavily.

______________________

"Poe?" You call out tentatively as you enter the area of the hangar where he's been working on his x-wing for the last several hours. It's been a day since you got into it in the command center and you feel horrible for making him angry. He's your commander, and you'd even say friend though you butt heads a bit, but at the end of the day you do care for him. A lot. More than you probably should, even if he is a real pain in your ass. He gets under your skin and makes you hotter than any man ever has. It's a fine balance of attraction and irritation.

Sure enough he's laying across the top of his x-wing, foot hooked into the opening of the cockpit, stretched out reaching something inside the engine. He's got on just his cargo pants and a black tank top and you cannot help but stare at his ass. Yes, you teased him about it earlier but in all honesty you love it. It's so...grabable and sexy. He has no idea. Or maybe he does. It seemed like a sore subject earlier but you had been teasing him so that's your fault.

"Poe?" You say a bit louder and he pushes up out of the engine, arms holding him up against the mainframe. His hair is curled beyond belief, the humidity and sweat most likely.

"What now?"

"I wanted to say sorry for yesterday morning."

He pushes himself up farther and repositions himself to slide off the edge of the x-wings body to stand in front of you. He wipes his hands on his tank and crosses his arms. "Why'd you say you were my wife?"

"Huh? I told you, because-"

"No. No, you could have said sister or cousin, anything. But you chose to say wife. Why?"

"I guess I thought it was the safest option." You shrug and dig your boot into the dusty concrete. You definitely haven't imagined what it would be like to be his wife. To be his girlfriend even. Definitely not.

"You thought- oh." Poe hums. "Well I got news for you, wife. We have an assignment together."

"What? Why?"

"Because our friend with the coordinates has taken refuge in Canto Bight."

"The casino resort city? Why the fuck would he go there?"

Poe shrugs. "It beats me. Maybe the guy has a gambling problem. Either way, you and I are going and we are getting those coordinates."

"Why do you need to go?"

"As your partner."

Your heart sinks. Leia knows you blew it on Kajimi. It wasn't supposed to be a solo mission but you said you could handle it. Not that it was your fault the first order decided to raid the city. But why Poe? Why not send someone else with you? Daya? Rose? Wexley?

"Why?"

Poe jumps and hits the release for the hood of the x-wing to fall closed. "Why, because Leia said so."

"Why you? Doesn't she need you here for stuff?"

He smiles and hooks his thumbs in the belt loops of his pants. "It's gonna be me because I asked for the mission."

"You're messing with me aren't you? This is some kind of retribution for outing your fake death."

"Maybe, maybe not." He wraps his arm around your shoulders and pulls you against him. "Pack your bags, because it's honeymoon week on Canto Bight."

"What?!"

"Oh yeah. They're only letting couples in and seeing as you're my wife now..."

"POE DAMERON!"

"Mmm?"

You shove him and he cackles. "You asshole! You are so petty for this."

"Yeah well you signed my death warrant. The least I can do is get even just a little bit."

"I'm not going to sleep with you!" You shout back as you walk away. "I'm not your real wife!"

"We'll see about that!"

_____________________

Poe Dameron can clean up nice. Galaxies he looks like a model when he peels off the fighter suit and runs his hand over his curls. He's in a red silken dress shirt, the top three buttons undone and showing off his gold chain beneath that dips down low on his chest. Black slacks that are definitely tailored because they hug his butt and thighs like they're made for him. Fuck.

"Are you going to change?" Poe asks, gesturing to your flight suit. "I don't think they'll let us in if you're in that."

"Of course I'm going to change." You tug at the velcro of your suit and peel it open to reveal your dress beneath. It's not too fancy, just a simple black dress, knee length and short sleeved. You don't have a lot of nice clothes, they just aren't something you keep around. You do have a necklace from your mom, a nice silver chain with a blue gem pendant. You don't look nearly as nice as Poe does.

"So our cover is that we're a newly wed couple who can't keep their hands off each other. I'm more likely to get noticed here. I can hide my face in your neck and hair. People don't care much for PDA so they will hopefully just ignore us and-" Poe stops mid briefing and you look over at him. "Oh damn." He mutters softly. "My wife looks hot."

"What? Shut up." You toss the flight suit into the cockpit and attempt to fix your hair in the reflection on the windshield. "You're being an ass."

Poe lays his hand on your lower back. "I give you a compliment and I'm an ass? What kind of backwards planet are you from?"

"It was not a compliment. You said wife. Which is not a compliment, it's teasing, so you are an ass."

He leans in close and you press against the x-wing. You can see him in the windshield behind you. Your eyes meet in the reflection and you refuse to look away. His voice comes close to your ear, eyes still boring into yours as he says, "My partner looks stunning and beautiful and I cannot believe I get to do this mission with her. Is that better?"

Your stomach sinks and your heart stops. "You're not bad yourself."

He chuckles, still close to your ear. "I know."

"Confident much?" You press back against him to move away from the x-wing and he wraps his arm around your waist, holding you tight against his warmth. Your body flushes, heat pooling in your stomach. Flashes of what you'd like him to do race through your brain. Galaxies what you wouldn't let him do to you. No. You have to get your mind out of the gutter. You have a job to do. "Let go, Poe."

"Better get used to it. We're going to do a lot of touching." He purrs before he releases you.

You roll your eyes and he smirks.

"Don't think I can't see that blush." He walks beside you as you head to the grand entry way of the Canto Bight resort. "I know you want me."

"In your dreams, Dameron."

He chuckles. "I do have lots of dreams." He matches your pace and slips his arm around your back. "Fun dreams. We should share them sometime."

You cut him a glare and he grins. "You're really playing into this cover."

"Who says I'm playing?"

______________________

As soon as you're checked in, the hunt is on. You can't help but wonder how many of these people would just leap at the chance to throttle you and Poe for simply being part of the Resistance. There's only one way to get this rich in the galaxy and that is weaponry and sympathizing with the First Order. After an hour or so you and Poe head for the elevators that go to the game rooms on the top floor. It's the roulette rooms to be exact. You got word from base that the contact is a roulette player, always betting black.

"I hope we find him." You say to yourself as the doors to the elevator close. It's only you and Poe inside, which is fine with you. At least you don't have to act when no one is around. The last hour has been an excruciating test of will power. You want this to be over, to never have to touch Poe again because it is killing you inside. You know this won't last.

"As do I."

"Huh? Oh. Yeah. I still feel like we're flying a little blind."

"We'll find him."

You look over and Poe has his arms crossed, staring straight ahead at the reflective doors. You look at the doors and take in the two of you together. He looks like he belongs here and you don't. People are going to know you're fakes. This isn't a mission for you, you're not a good actor and you're barely dressed for the part.

"You look great, stop worrying." Poe says softly.

"What? I didn't say anything?"

"You're staring at our reflection intently. I know what you're thinking and you're wrong. You look great."

You fold your arms over your chest and lean against the wall. "You're staring too."

Poe turns and steps directly in front of you. "I'm staring at you."

"Well stop."

"I can't." He catches your chin between his thumb and forefinger and your hands start sweating, heart going wild. "I wanna take it all in while I have it."

"You think I'm not going to dress up ever again?"

"Maybe. I've known you for three years now and I've never seen you like this."

"Don't get used to it."

Poe releases your chin as the elevator dings, signaling your floor. "I won't. But I'm going to relish it while I can."

"Yeah, you do tha-ah!"

He grabs your hand and pulls you out onto the game floor, tugging you against his chest. He slides a hand into your hair and your knees go weak. "Remember our cover?"

"Y-yeah?"

"Newly weds." He drops his lips to your ear. "That can't get enough of each other. You can touch me again, it's okay."

You rest your hand against his chest and his heart is beating fast and hard. He's really into this. "How are we supposed to find the contact if we're all over each other?"

"We will. Just follow my lead."

Poe wraps his arm around your back and guides you to walk with him to a table. He crowds you against the table in front of him, lips going to your neck. "Ask what the buy in is?"

"What's the buy in?" You smile sweetly, looking at the dealer. You're trying not to tremble but Poe is really making you feel weak kneed. He's taken to sliding his hand across your stomach and massaging his thumb just over your ribcage.

"Twenty thousand Madame." The dealer says happily. "Shall I put you on the board next round?"

"Uh.."

"Yes." Poe says more lustfully than helpfully.

You shiver and nod. "Yes please."

The dealer gives a nod and begins to set out a marker for you while the roulette wheel spins away.

"How exactly are we doing this?" You hiss at Poe and he chuckles. "Seriously what money do you-"

"He's here."

"What? Where?" You look around the table and no one matches the contact's description. "Where?"

Poe bites at your neck and you let out an embarrassing little noise of pleasure. He's hitting all your sensitive spots and it's driving you mad. "Table at our two o'clock."

You look over and sure enough there is a man in a long emerald green robe. "Great let's go talk to him."

"Not so fast." Poe murmurs, fingers flexing on your stomach. "We have a game to play."

"No we don't. We have no money." You seethe and he hums against your back. "Seriously what are you-"

Poe lays a bundle of tokens on the table and your eyes go wide. "Don't lose." He presses a kiss to your cheek and pulls away.

"Don't- how the fuck am I supposed to-" You look back and he's crossing the game room to get to the table where the contact is. You look back at your own game and white knuckle the edge of the table. You don't even know how to play roulette.

"Madame? Your bet?" The dealer calls, looking at you.

"I- thirteen?"

"The color Madame?"

"Black."

"Very well."

You watch as the wheel spins and the little ball bounces around inside. It's insufferable. You can't watch. You know it's going to cause you to lose this stack of tokens Poe just slapped down out of nowhere. Why does he have so much money? You look up and find him standing near the contact. He doesn't appear to be talking, just observing.

"Winner!"

Your eyes snap back to the table and the dealer is pushing a large amount of tokens toward you. "What..."

"Thirteen black, straight bet. You've taken the majority of the pot Madame. Shall I put you down for another round or cash you out?"

"Cash out."

The dealer stacks your tokens into a carrier and pushes the small box toward you. "Best of times madame."

You gather the box and make a beeline for Poe. The moment you're in range you lay a hand on his back and he turns, scooping you against him and pressing his lips to your cheek. "I-...Okay?"

"The contact is a spy from the First Order," Poe whispers, kissing along your jaw and your mind goes fuzzy. "This is a trap. We need to stay low, contact Leia and find out more information."

"H-how do you know?" You stammer, brain split between wanting to focus on the mission and getting Poe alone in a bedroom.

"He's wearing a ring that only First Order commanders have. I've seen it before."

You slide your hand down his back and rest it on his ass. It takes everything in you not to squeeze. "We should talk elsewhere. Like you said, we need to get ahold of Leia."

"Did you lose my money at the table?"

"No, and on that subject, where the fuck did you get that much in tokens? Since when do you just have an extra twenty thousand laying around?"

"Don't worry about it. What did you win?"

"I don't know?" You move away and hold up the carrier full of tokens. "The dealer just gave me this."

Poe takes it and his eyes go wide. "Holy sh- this is way more than I laid down. Okay first things first we cash this out and get a room. Then we call Leia."

"Sounds good."

_____________________

The room is huge, a suite for a small family. Seriously you could house at least four people in there comfortably it is so large. You take a seat on the end of the giant gold and black bed in the center of the room and Poe starts rolling up his sleeves. It's way hotter than it should be and your brain wanders. It'd feel so good to have him pin you down, kiss you until you can't think straight anymore. His tongue is probably so skilled and-

"Hey, hello, you alive?" Poe says, touching your shoulder. "Did you bring the communicator?"

"Yeah, yeah it's in my purse."

Poe looks around and spots the small purse you had been carrying. "This could have been very bad."

"Do you think he would have tried to kill us?"

"No. I think he would have given us the coordinates and lead us into a death trap." Poe dials out the command center code. "I knew this abandoned ship was too good to be true."

You flop back and stare at the ceiling while Poe talks to Leia. It's painted gold with black stars imprinted throughout. It's interesting, ritzy and obnoxious, but still pretty. You smile to yourself. You've never been in a place this nice. Never in a million years did you think you would find yourself in Canto Bight. Heat rises in your stomach as you reflect on the last hour or so with Poe. He was so willing to touch you, to make you squirm under his attentions. Does he feel some type of way for real? Is he playing the part? You know one thing, you are never going to recover from this. You're going to have dreams for months.

"You know your dress is leaving little to the imagination."

You snap out of your thoughts and sit up, staring at Poe who's standing at the end of the bed looking down at you. Galaxies it's so sexy, his eyes are trained on you and you can't look away. Your dress is hiked up to your thighs, so laying down he could probably see your underwear. "Maybe you should look elsewhere."

"Maybe I don't wanna." He smirks and your blood pressure skyrockets. He reaches out and flips the bit of fabric laying on your leg and exposes a bit more skin.

"Poe!"

His big hand covers the top of your thigh and he gives a little squeeze. "Tell me to stop."

"Poe...what're you doing?"

His other hand finds your opposite thigh and he slides them up under the dress. He's just touching your legs and you're getting riled up. He presses his face into your neck and you let out the most feeble whine of pleasure. "If you don't want this for real, tell me now."

"We shouldn-"

He gives a little bite and you fall backwards, body no longer able to handle it. "Yes or no sweetheart, I need to know if you want this?"

"Yes. I want you." You bite your lip and it's all over. Poe climbs over you, holding your wrists just like you imagined. His lips find yours, kissing you hungrily while you squirm beneath him, aching to touch him in return. You know it's going to be a long night and that's just fine.

____________________

Sometime in the middle of the night you wake up, eyes opening to the darkened room. For a moment you cannot sort out where you are. The bed feels unfamiliar, the air smells different, nothing is right. Then it hits you. Canto Bight. Poe. You roll over and sure enough there he is beside you, arm over his face.

Last night comes back to you. Oh man. That's why you're sore and naked. You turn back over and Poe shifts on his side. An arm wraps around your chest, pulling you flush against him under the blankets.

"Go back to sleep sweetheart."

"You're awake too."

His hand slides up your chest and settles against your throat. You shiver, remembering last night. A wave of heat courses down your body and settles between your legs. He must know this because he chuckles softly. "Quiet now aren't you?"

"Shut up."

"That's not what you told me last night." He kisses along your shoulder and rubs his thumb back and forth across your throat, applying gentle pressure. "I believe the words were, harder please."

"Poe we just woke up. Do you really need to do this now?" You groan and he slides his hand away, settling it on your chest instead.

He nuzzles against your hair and places another kiss to the back of your neck. "I don't want it to end."

"What?"

"Us, this."

You turn over and face him, nearly nose to nose. You can feel his breath and you stare at each other for a long moment. "You want this?"

He nods. "Please?"

"Okay, I'm down for exploring this." You smile and he leans in to kiss you gently. "I guess I wasn't so far off when I said I was your wife."

Poe cards a hand through your hair. "Easy now, we could make that a possibility. There's a dozen union halls here."

"We're not getting married!" You laugh and he does so in turn. "Fuck a guy once and he wants to make you his wife. Damn, how long has it been Poe?"

"Shut up!"

"No seriously, how long?"

"A while."

"Wanna talk about it?"

"Sure. It's your fault."

You narrow your eyes and he's grinning. "What the fuck does that mean?"

"It means, it's your fault I haven't gotten laid." He flips your nose with his finger and you swat him away. "I'm spelling it out here."

"No you're not? How is it my fault exactly?"

"Because I'm...inlovewithyou." He mutters the last bit, and stares diligently at your pillow.

You touch his cheek and turn his head up to look at you. "Run that by me again?"

"You heard it."

"I heard the impossible. So I know I heard wrong."

"Fuck you, impossible."

"Then say it again!

"I love you!" He takes in a shaky breath. "You're the only woman I've ever met that goes toe to toe with me and gets under my skin to the point I just want to rip your head off but also fuck you so hard you're begging for it. I look forward to seeing you every morning, I look forward to talking to you every day. When you go on missions I can't eat or sleep because I'm so damn worried you won't come back. Fuck, you're everything and I-I must look like an idiot."

"Poe."

"Don't say it. I know it's fine. You don't feel the same and-"

You lean forward and kiss him to make him shut up. He catches on immediately and cradles your face as he returns the kiss. "First things first Dameron..."

"Yeah?" He mutters, eyes closed as he chases your lips as you speak.

"Don't ever tell me how I feel."

He grins and opens his eyes, staring back at you with burning fire. It's passion, challenge, interest. So many emotions you can't settle on one. "Can I tell you want to do?"

"What do you think?"

"Yes?" He slides his hand down to your throat, not squeezing, just touching. "You seemed to like me telling you what to do last night."

You bite his lip and he groans. "Maybe sometimes."

"I'll take sometimes." He pulls you against him, tucking your head under his chin. "Can I take you to breakfast?"

"Like a date?"

"Yes."

"Sure, but you gotta tell me where you got those tokens last night."

He chuckles. "They're fake."

"Fake?! You gave me fake tokens?!"

"I told you not to lose didn't I?"

"You son of a bitch."

"No my mother was a kind woman, thank you."

"I hate you."

He kisses your head and holds his lips to your hair. "No you don't."

You grip his back, pressing your face into his chest. "I don't. Not even a little."

_____________________

Three days after you and Poe return to base things don't seem to have changed. Poe doesn't seem to hint at wanting to be together, he doesn't say anything about what happened between you two on Canto Bight. It's weird. You had such a good night and a lovely breakfast. As far as hook ups and first dates go, they were some of the best you've ever had. You thought things were going well, that you were going to be a couple when you got back to base, but that isn't happening and you don't know why. It's a little annoying and you wonder if Poe is embarrassed to be with you. Or maybe he doesn't want people to know because he wants to keep his options open. You feel played and it is not sitting well.

"Bout time you got back." You say as Poe walks up to the supply cart you're stocking in the hangar. He has been out on a mission with the black x-wing team. Some sort of attack on some stormtroopers invading a resistance friendly settlement.

"Miss me?"

"Yeah, sure." You roll your eyes.

Poe grabs the handles on the cart and leans forward as he speaks. "Is there a problem?"

"I don't know, is there?"

"Don't start with me."

You slam down a pack of fuses and lift your eyes to meet his. "Don't start with you? Oh no problem, you already didn't start it."

"What are you talking about?"

"Oh fuck you."

Poe raises his eyebrows. "Fuck me? I'm not doing anything. You're coming at me for who knows what. Tell me what I did!"

"Nothing! You've done nothing Poe! Since we got home you've barely looked at me twice. We spent an incredible night in Canto Bight and for what? For what Poe?!"

"That's what you're mad about?!"

"Yeah! I feel like I've been played!" You laugh angrily, stepping away from the cart and walking around a pile of scrap parts in boxes. "Is Poe Dameron too good to admit he fell in love?!"

"Fuck all, you don't need to shout that across the base!"

You narrow your eyes at him. "You want me to shout? Oh I'll shout." You turn your back to him and face the open expanse of the hangar. "I'm in love with Poe Dameron and he is in love with me! We fucked on Canto Bight and it was amazing!"

A few pilots and crew nearby make noises of encouragement.

Poe grabs your shoulder and turns you around a little rougher than you expect. He backs you against the wall and your heart goes absolutely wild. "You want something to scream about? I'll give you a reason to scream my name."

"Put your money where your mouth is Dameron."

He leans in close, caging you in with his hands on the wall beside your head. "Call me by my last name again and I'll make sure you scream it too."

You stare at him in heavy silence for a moment. The tension is teetering on thin ice. "Tell me you love me. Say it again."

"I love you." He presses his forehead against yours. "I love you until the stars burn out."

"Then why have you been putting me off for the last three days?"

"I've been working through some personal shit."

You swallow thickly. You feel like an asshole now. "I'm sorry."

"You didn't know." He drops his hands from the wall and holds your face. "I promise I'll tell you everything one day, just bare with me."

You grab his wrists and rub your thumb over the back of his hands. "Are you okay? Like...y'know?"

"Yeah."

"You're sure?"

Poe nods. "It's just my PTSD and some other stuff. Can I ask you something?"

"Anything."

"Do you really love me like you just shouted to the base?"

You smile and he bumps your noses together. "Yeah Poe. I love you."

He leans in and kisses you, smiling into it as he does so. "You're really hot when you're angry."

"You are too." You grin back as you slide your hands over his butt. "Maybe we should work on communication."

"Mmm. Then let me tell you how much I want to get you alone right now."

"What's stopping you?"

"Nothing." He grunts as he slides his hands under your legs and lifts you up. "I'm taking you straight to the commander's quarters for punishment."

You grip his back tightly as he walks you out of the hangar. "What's my offense?"

"Verbally attacking a commander and stealing his heart."

"You're cheesy."

"You love it." He purrs, placing his lips against your throat. "You love me."

"Yes, yes I do."

---------

End

------

Header pic by delicate-venus

*****Note: none of my works should be posted anywhere outside of my linked accounts. I do not give permission to repost with or without credit to my accounts. Please notify me of any reposted works.*****

#star wars #star wars fic #star wars fanfic #star wars fan fic #poe dameron #poe dameron fic #poe dameron fan fic #poe dameron fanfic #poe dameron fanfiction #poe dameron x reader #star wars universe

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lovedinapastlife · 6 years ago

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3x11 “The Red Dahlia” - Riverdale Reaction

Somebody ought to go in these handcuffs, and I happen to think it should be whoever approved this episode.

Let’s be clear...even if this episode was filmed in black and white, it probably still would have been the garbled, sleep-deprived ramblings of writing room edits as opposed to a compelling narrative about dames with dubious intentions and secrets to kill for. For me, at least.

I love how Betty still judges the hell outta Hal for his malevolent appreciation of a woman with a body count.

Archie “the Hulk” Andrews. Nobody likes him when he’s angry. This poor overseer even has to fight with people about TAKING A BREAK. Eat a sandwich, Archie! Maybe you’re hangry on top of needing therapy.

Veronica calling out the temporary fabulous gesture of flowers from Elio and demanding precious jewels. Pretty RICH, considering she got Bettykins flowers and cupcakes in s1e1. That is growth. Maybe.

“We all had problems, and a helluva good-looking one was about to walk through my door.” Anyone else expecting a Pop’s delivery?

I had to sigh. I know, I know it’s just the poor attempt at Noir language, but Jughead mocks her hat like two seconds later and I’m sure certain shippers were squeeing as I squinted at the general tolerance these two have for each other. He likes the $ and opportunity to play detective with Nancy Drew. V likes results. That’s it. Business partners. Woo.

Go, Fred! You PARENT your child! Aaaaand there he goes to take shots at a speakeasy. Well. You tried.

Is Thornhill big enough to have its own funeral parlor AND cemetery? Just makes it easier to hide the murder victims and suicides, I guess! This is at LEAST the second wake-ish thing they’ve hosted here. Weird family. Sorry you’re related, Betty.

Not sure why Cheryl is SO offended by the insinuation that her prostitute/murderer/sent-her-to-conversion-camp mom is dangerous. I thought Penelope was kicked out anyway? Nana Rose is my new favorite Blossom murderer for the weird line implying that she finds pretending to cry over her son/a man is a waste of time.

Did they seriously make cutoff vests with the Serpents insignia for the “TOO-WARM-TO-MOVE-A-BODY” weather, and yet dress Jughead in a SHERPA JACKET? I know he’s an “outsider,” but COME ON.

“MOBSPLAIN” - only on this show. Also, the line about it being “unrealistic” made me laugh. This show is such a cheeky bastard. Love watching V make grown men stand up straighter.

SMITHERS! Didn’t even recognize him at first. This kinda works? But I’m confused. Is V just...doing the shakedowns now? And she doesn’t see the issue with that? Got kinda creepy Daddy Issue vibes when she smiled at Reggie and called him Man in Black. I know WHY she did and it probably wasn’t meant to be creepy, I just FELT it, okay?

THEY’RE SO SOFT I’M GONNA DIE! The little back-rub? The cutie heart-eyes? I’m dying. But the writing was silly here, because Betty is all ABOUT investigating, and would totally help Jughead break in and have his back for sleuthing shenanigans with plenty of time for her thing. Also Betty seemed bemused/unimpressed at discovering the super over-the-top Maple Sex Club (THIS SHOW) whereas Jughead seemed totally unaffected. They have a more impressive setup at home, I presume.

Josie shoving Archie in a cold shower and telling him to sort his shenanigans was probably the most fun thing she’s ever done. And she wears cat ears and fancy outfits on the regular, so that’s saying something. Also, don’t they only serve mocktails at the speakeasy? Or am I not supposed to remember that?

Honestly? Most of this episode from about halfway on gets...expositional and boring and just a bunch of blackmail stalemates that do not further character, plot, relationships, nor aesthetic. Boo. Booooo! Unsatisfying stalemates don’t get better as a plot device because you acknowledge them at the end! Even Jughead’s narration was a hard cringe.

Like, did anyone think Kelly Ripa was gonna shoot Jughead? Or that he would be obnoxious enough to juggle the egg super awkwardly instead of getting ready to smash the thing as a threat? Just...no interesting conflict. Nor resolution. These actors could’ve used better staging and script, and honestly even the cinematography was unimpressive with a few exceptions (Archie’s shadow-pan to aiming the gun at the hooded man was one).

Jughead keeps shoving all his money into other people’s hands in bribery and I find that extremely problematic for many reasons. As was Betty’s later monologue about “black and white” morality with Hal. Sigh.

Minetta was alive? Who was dismembered then? Random goon #42? Is being a mayor in Riverdale just a cover for f***ing the Sheriff?

DOUBLE-TAP, MAN. Or headshot! FP’s been around this stuff enough where he should’ve gotten this right! After that whole “I’m not a killer” speech to Jughead back in season one, I just kind of rolled my eyes during this scene and went, “Sure.”

Aw, people keep trying to beat Archie to the punch...and the shot! (HA. The puns...I digress). The “atmosphere-building” monologue beforehand and lying to V indicates he might be on the path...to VILLAINY! (again) But maybe now he has some Black Hood closure. Some.

“Thank goodness it’s over” -- me, about this episode. Love the contrast of Hermione’s flimsy white trench coat though. Is Falice still a thing? Or was the one scene for fan service and now their duty is done?

Veronica: And Archie...if you ever need a friend...to talk to...

GET ON ANOTHER SHOW, because this episode only has time for dastardly plots and random sex scandals! (although I will accept a spinoff Bughead romantic detective show ANY TIME now) I realize everyone has their own agenda, but come on. Throw us a milkshake, here. At least Hiram will stop trying to kill the poor teenager. Archie, to be clear. Jughead is probably still on the table.

They literally had to write “In case you’d forgotten” in Jughead’s narration before returning to a scene. Wow. The narrative.

Ugh. Hermione. That cleanup is going to be a MESS. Shoulda shot him in the shower.

This is the second time Jughead’s been in the awkward position of his dad shooting a classmate’s dad. Oh well. “It’s Riverdale.”

That Bughead sex scene teased in the next episode better be good after this week’s shenanigans.

#riverdale reaction #riverdale react #3.11 #riverdale 3x11 #riverdale #riverdale season 3 #the red dahlia

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lxveille · 7 years ago

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acquiescence

hoshi x reader

word count: ~3200 a/n: paranormal disaster/societal collapse!au; a continuation of trust fall that i wasn’t planning on writing (at least not so soon), but i had to trudge through snow the other day & got to thinking; also slightly nsfw for some intimate touching.

In the quiet of a freezing night, you and Hoshi stumble over a line.

It’s too cold to snow, you think to yourself bitterly. And you’re glad that you and Hoshi didn’t have to argue about whether or not you were going to steal blankets from the safe house. There hadn’t even been a discussion over it. After a mere three days appreciating the relative safety and promise of a bed, neither of you were willing to give up the simple creature comfort of a few well-stitched, soft blankets.

One of which is doubling in purpose as an impromptu shawl around your head and shoulders. You cling to it from the inside, and it does a better job of keeping your fingers warm than your pockets alone have done before.

The safehouse must be miles away now. Hoshi had woken you up at some unknown hour, and the sun had barely begun to rise when the two of you started making your way out of the forest. Trees still lined either side of your trail, but the frequency of abandoned vehicles and snow-covered partitions are enough to tell you that you’re walking along a road now.

The two of you trudge on without many words exchanged. The sun has already peaked and started creeping westwards in the sky. There’s little energy left for making menial conversation at this point in the trek.

Hoshi comes to a stop. It takes you a few steps to realize he’d fallen out of synch with you. You turn back to look at him and find him staring off to the left of the road up ahead. You follow his line of sight to notice a billboard in the distance, only partially visible through the bare branches of trees. What parts of it you can see are impossible to read or make out what’s depicted. There’s too much snow stuck to it, and most of what is left exposed after that has long been infested with the sickly yellow, stinging mold that had flourished as the second plague.

You call out Hoshi’s name -- or nickname, as it is -- only for the sound to be too muffled by the cover of blanket you have covering your face from the nose down. The thought of uncovering your features to the biting cold is dreadful. So you try again, nearly shouting into the fabric.

“What, Daydream?” he responds without faltering in his stare at the distant billboard.

At this moment you realize you didn’t really have anything to say. You’d just wanted him to acknowledge he was still there. It’s odd to see him as still and as contemplative as he looks right now.

To save your throat from having to tell again, you pull at the blanket so it’s tucked under your chin. Immediately, the freezing temperature stings at the tip of your nose and the apples of your cheeks. “Do you think the beetles will stay away in winter like must bugs do?” you think to ask at the last minute. You don’t need to clarify which beetles you’re referring to. They may have appeared after the electric grid had gone out, but you and Hoshi had already encountered them plenty of times since you began navigating the world together.

“I don’t know,” he says. His tone is fatigued and almost irritated, but he looks your way at last. “Nothing goes the way it should anymore.”

It feels hyperbolic despite the fact that on most other days you would agree with the sentiment.

After so brief an instant, Hoshi returns his gaze to the horizon. You take a few steps towards him with snow crunching unsteadily under your boots. You pull the fabric back up over your nose and mouth and exhaling heavily, trying to gain some semblance of warmth from your own breath.

“We aren’t gonna make it to the next town before the sun goes down,” Hoshi admits at last, finally letting you in on what has him looking like he’d been kicked.

Bad news, regardless of how it’s framed. He doesn’t need to explain why this reality has made him so despondent. You bury your nose further into the cloth wrapped around your face. It will only get colder when night comes. Averting your eyes down to your shoes, you do your best to summon some kind of positive thought for your sake and his. A dramatic thought comes to mind (hope might be the only thing to keep you warm tonight) and you start to wonder if it had come from some line of literature you’d only half-read for school.

“If we keep moving, we might find some sort of shelter before it gets too dark,” Hoshi provides for you, shoulder brushing yours as he passes.

You shoot him a look that aims to say, but you were the one to stop first. He catches your near-glare and sends you an improbable smile. Hoshi is the only man you’ve met who could manage a smile like that only moments after indirectly admitting there’s a chance he may freeze to death.

The sun has all but disappeared when the two of you find the closest thing to shelter you can hope to come across. Wind has already blown some snow into the ground otherwise covered by the underpass, but it’s not even half as deep as the rest of the snow you’ve been walking through thus far.

By Hoshi’s request, you’re checking the walls and pavement of the underpass for any signs of mold or ominous cracks. While you’re scanning the darkening surroundings, Hoshi climbs the hill to check the overpassing road for any better options. You’re still kicking at snow to expose the cold ground beneath it when Hoshi comes back into sight.

“This is gonna have to be it, unless you’ve found something,” Hoshi announces, looking at you expectantly. There was a time when he might not have entrusted this task to you, you realize at the back of your mind.

“It looks clean,” you tell him with a sigh, tugging the blanket back around your shoulders as it nearly falls off. “If the ground does open up under us, I don’t think anyone could’ve predicted it.” The seriousness required to speak of such a prospect doesn’t shake you as much as it once did. But you only needed to see one sink hole appear to accept that even the most solid of surfaces were a risk now. It’d been a risk in the safehouse. It’d be a risk the whole day the two of you have been walking.

If guarantees of safety still existed, society might not have given way to chaos as quickly as it had.

The two of you set up your makeshift camp as such: one blanket laid out flat on the ground with two to go over your bodies, and a third pulled up over your heads to help seal in body heat. Hoshi keeps his hat on; you keep the hood of the winter coat you despise pulled up over your head.

You lie with your backs to one another, fingers holding down the edges of the blankets in place as you shift into comfortable positions.

“Are you good?” you ask him when it seems you’ve both come to still. He hums back in agreement.

Cloaked and covered in stolen blankets, the only sound that passes between the two of you is steady breathing. Gradually, the layers of cloth work in combination with your natural body heat in making it feel a bit warmer. Or, your worried side chimes in, perhaps you’re numbing in some kind of subzero temperature already.

“I remember the first time I got really sick. I must have been… four or five,” you begin to mumur, hoping to quiet down your fretting thoughts, “I had this horrible fever and could barely talk my throat was so sore.”

Hoshi doesn’t know what’s brought this thought on for you, but he doesn’t interrupt. He does, however, turn onto his back, head lulling to his right so he’s staring at the back of your head.

“My mom always said the worst of it was how much I cried. But I remember crying mostly because I just didn’t get it. I hadn’t yet learned what ‘sick’ was and I didn’t understand why one day I was fine and the next I wasn’t. …I think I was scared, too, you know? That I’d feel that way forever?”

He pictures you, not as child but just the same as you are now, in tears and frightened. Hoshi hasn’t really seen you cry. There have been moments when you’ve been close to it, when you’d been visibly distressed and scared. But you’d mastered some kind of technique of taking a very slow breath and swallowing down that impulse. He knew because he’d seen it happen. Because it had been the very first thing that made his heart pang for you, back when he’d been part of a discussion on what to do with you; a conversation that feels utterly foreign now that he’d long since chosen an option that hadn’t even been on table then.

“That’s the worst part now, too, isn’t it?” you posit after several moments tick by, “The not knowing why.”

Before Hoshi can agree or disagree, a harsh wind whips through the underpass. Both of you sit up and grasp at the blankets as quickly as you can. All the warmth that had been so preciously trapped in your careful cocoon is gone in an instant. There’s no words exchanged on how urgent it is to rearrange everything as it had been before. There are a few curses released in little more than puffs of freezing air from either one of you. Beyond that, the task is carried out without even a spare glance at each other.

It takes both of you a moment to fully realize how much closer you’ve arranged yourselves to one another once everything is back in place. Huddled together, Hoshi finds his chest only inches away from your back. With every exhale, you feel his breath hit warm against the back of your neck.

It seems to warm up faster with the new proximity.

Hoshi closes his eyes and imagines pressing his lips to whatever patch of exposed skin he can find along your neck. He pictures brushing your hair aside, or tugging down at the fabrics of your jacket and sweater just to skim along the very tops of your shoulder blades. He refrains. He’s certain all he’d get out of it would be you disappearing from his side.

Compared to his thoughts, letting an arm fall over your waist seems like the most chaste of actions. Perhaps that’s why he doesn’t notice at first when he’s done just that. You, on the other, notice right away when the weight of his elbow settles into the curve of your side. You tense at the sensation of his fingers skimming over the front of your sweater. You take a deep breath and try to calm the nerves that have suddenly jolted to life at such a simple touch.

It’s the noticeable rise of your lungs filling with air on that deep intake that makes Hoshi realize just what he’s done. Impulse shouts at him to pull away, to preserve the lines he’s already crossed inside his mind. But something unfathomable and seated left of center in his chest makes his stay just as he is.

You tell yourself that this is realistically just a better means of survival. Preserving body warmth was exactly why you’d covered yourselves from head to feet with blankets. Surely having each other closer would only contribute to the cause of making it through the night without freezing. Though that reasoning doesn’t explain why his fingertips are tracing meaningless patterns into the clothing covering your stomach.

He has never been this close, you think to yourself. For every time the two of you have been near over these months, there have never been any touches such as these. Even if you had thought of them, or dreamed of them, or nearly caved to the temptation of them during those fleeting nights in the safehouse. Contact has always been practical. Or has always had the guise of practicality. In very little time at all, Hoshi makes it difficult for you to convince yourself that these touches are only aimed at giving the two of you a better chance of making it through the night.

Hoshi lets his hand slip downwards slowly until he finds the bottom hem of your sweater. He takes it between his thumb and forefinger, rubbing the woven material softly back and forth just as one might do with worry beads. Like he’s seeking satisfaction enough from man-made fabric alone. An effort that’s in vain. A testament to that much comes as he releases the cloth and lets his hand slip under it instead, splaying over your abdomen directly.

You shudder at the skin-to-skin contact.

“Is this okay?” he whispers. You feel the question against the back of your neck more than you hear it. You want to remain silent, to feign sleep to avoid having to answer, to take no side even if a part of your thrills at the feeling. Your lack of response doesn’t encourage him. His hand retreats immediately.

“You’re warm,” you speak softly, feeling your own warm breath come back against your face within the cocoon of blankets the two of you have constructed. It’s an excuse to let him put his hand back on your skin. You’re embarrassed at how quickly you miss something that had been so brief to begin with. Your vague words aren’t enough to convince him. You close your eyes and admit, “It’s okay.”

There’s a hesitation, and then his fingers are under your sweater all over again. His breath stutters against the back of your neck as his fingers trail a path up your stomach. They roam up and down the slope of your side, then delve towards your sternum. His palm settles there for a minute or two, and a part of you is certain he must be able to feel your heartbeat from there, even if not directly over that organ directly.

Then they begin again, moving down to flit over the side of your ribcage pressed to the ground. You realize your sweater is half-pushed up at this point, but the warmth radiating off Hoshi’s hand and forearm make you less inclined to pull it back into place. His fingers move in circular patterns over your abdomen, never touching with fewer than three fingers.

“You can be closer, if you want,” you tell him under your breath, too self-conscious at your own words to utter them any louder.

“I can stop,” he offers alternatively, hand retreating from where it’s nearly cupped over one side of your chest.

It is strange, this interaction that seemed to rise out of nothing. It is the most intimate you’ve been since the world began to fall apart. You wonder if the same is true for Hoshi. It isn’t inconceivable that you’re both simply starved for human contact that isn’t either aggression or helping hands.

“You don’t have to,” you whisper back, then close your eyes before you admit, “I don’t want you to; if you want it, too.”

Hoshi answers by moving closer, his shoulder knocking against yours as his hips come to press against your own. Through layers of clothing, you still process this spooning position as being one that yearns for something more.

The same hand begins moving downwards, asking a tentative question over each inch of your skin. It comes to a stop over the hem of your pants. Instinct as your spine arching, pressing your points on contact further into him. He must take the action as an invitation, because the next thing you feel is a thumb hooking into your waistband. He pauses there, knuckle running back and forth over the warm flesh between your hips as he skims his hand back and forth along the fabric.

You rock into him again, the verge of sensation already being enough to have your heart beating heavy in your chest. He laughs, and it tickles against your ear as it passes over as nothing more than a hot puff of air. His hand adjusts, slipping into the crotch of your pants with some strain from the positioning. Fingers spread over you, separated now by only one minuscule layer of fabric.

“I think it’s too cold for me,” he confesses, and you can nearly hear the flush of some uncalled for shame in his tone. He curls his fingertips to press into you more sturdily. “But I can try to help you.”

Putting a name to it makes a quiet mortification rise in you; it’s a shame parallel to his own, even if they sit at the opposite ends of arousal. You press your teeth into your lower lip, and try not to think of yourself as unappealing as Hoshi’s fingers start to seek a reaction from you.

You move your hand to his wrist, calling his actions to a halt almost as soon as they’d begun. “It’s alright,” you say before he can question what it means, “We should really just sleep.”

He pulls his hand out from your pants in compliance, and your own falls away from his wrist in response.

There are no exchanged wishes for good nights or sweet dreams. Nothing more is said before the two of you fall asleep in the same position, pressed tight to one another with one of Hoshi’s arms hanging over your midsection.

Morning comes, and you’re unsure if you’re more surprised by the position you wake up in or the fact that you’ve both made it through the coldest night yet.

Natural aches have settled into your muscles from sleeping on the ground with only one blanket to call a mattress. You both sit up and stretch before packing all but one of the blankets back into your packs. No mention is made of what occurred in the night.

You wrap the same blanket from yesterday back around your shoulders and up over the lower half of your face. It occurs to you that some part of the smell lingering on it now may be Hoshi’s. Immediately, you’re glad that the fabric is covering your surely blushing cheeks.

Hoshi is waiting for you at the other end of the underpass from where the two of you had entered the night before. When you come up to his side, he tilts his head back up at the sky and lifts one hand to shield his eyes.

“At least the sun is out today,” he comments, voice still carrying the rougher tones of morning. You nod and ask if he thinks today you’ll manage to reach whatever town is your next hopeful destination.

“We should,” Hoshi confirms, and looks at you properly for the first time that morning. You swallow and seek some sort of message in his eyes. But he is inscrutable today, so you are the first to break the silent exchange of curious gazes. “Are you ready to go?”

“There’s no reason to stay here,” you answer. The cloud the leaves your lips with the words is a testament to the fact that the sun alone does not make it any warmer than it was the day before.

Like any decent survivors, you leave nothing behind. Even when you’d rather leave certain complications buried in the snow.

#seventeen scenarios #hoshi scenarios #kwon soonyoung scenarios #seventeen imagines

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savetheblackpaladin · 8 years ago

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Paladins + Vehicles

Ok so I couldn’t get this out of my mind so let’s mcfreakin do this

Shiro

drives a Ford Expedition just as damaged as he is but listen, Black is a babe (high key based of a car I once drove)

Is mostly black except for some reason the hatch is khaki green and she’s missing bits of paint and has scratches and dents just everywhere

was the first car Shiro ever bought and he got her at a police car auction

he found a broken meth pipe hidden in the dash while he was replacing the heating core (nice)

she was super cheap bc she needed a lot of work but Shiro got her working like a champ!

she looks like she can breakdown at any second but shiro has driven this tank into the craziest situations

has driven over sidewalks to avoid waiting to turn at a light

said fuck it and drove over a huge ass snowback bc why not?

the one you call to move furniture or to get you when you get stuck

the official Camping Vehicle bc not only can she get into places a full size SUV shouldn’t physically be able too she’s the perfect tent/hauler!

Has phone alarms set up for all her checkups so he doesn’t miss a single oil change, brake check, tire rotation, or even spark plug replacement

he’s dedicated as fuck to his poor damaged bby

Has a ‘protection skeleton’ for good luck

his parents always had ‘protection angels’ so it’s traditional. he’s just morbid so protection skelly

Keith

has a red Honda CBR (Lance makes fun of his ‘crotch rocket’ but not so secretly gets him flustered)

Her name is officially Red but Keith always calls her ‘His Girl’

Will cry if she gets a scratch and will spend all day buffing it out

has totally made improvements to her and honestly, she can’t even be called a CBR anymore because wow he has replaced nearly all the stock parts with fancy illegal stuff

has spent the most money on his vehicle, like he spends more on Red than food. Shiro buys him groceries a lot

routinely races muscle cars and wins (of course)

but also has the most speed tickets bc this angry child doesn’t know what a speed limit is

“The day I go the speed limit will be the day my body gets driven to the morgue” Keith bby no

actually likes giving out rides so he always has two spare helmets (for small and large heads) and an extra leather jacket bc safety is important

will not let you ride if you don’t wear the jacket bc even tho he’s a speed demon Keith is super concerned with safety

once Red got bumped in a parking lot and fell over and it was honestly the worst day in Keith’s life

he stormed into the nearest store and demanded to see their camera feeds

WHAT CHUCKLEFUCK HIT MY BIKE I NEED THEIR LICENSE PLATE IM GONNA MURDER THEM

he scared the poor CS gal so bad she started crying and managers got involved and Keith just didn’t understand why he couldn’t see who hit Red bc this boy was out for blood

Police got called, Keith got escorted out, he tried to argue with the cop but things escalated and Shiro had to bail is baby brother out

after picking up Red ofc (Shiro has a portable ramp in his car. He. is. Prepared.)

Lance

has a 20 yr old Camry he affectionately calls Blue for short but her real name is essentially The Blue Babe of My Heart but he says it in spanish and I am not gonna try and translate that

he bought her super cheap from Hunk who had bought her as a turn around

Lance was hanging around Hunk’s shop and honestly it was love at first sight

Hunk was all for it because honestly Camry’s are freaking tanks and never die and Lance is a disaster

they’re perfect for each other

has the best smelling car. He lives for those little scenty things you put in the dash

whenever Blue makes weird noises he’s just like ‘I know babe, i know. I got ya. You can make it because you are such a good girl!’

he talks the most to his car and it’s just so precious

Unironically has fuzzy dice and everyone hates them but the last time someone tried to take them down while Lance was driving he nearly flipped the car in his rage. No one touches them if they want to live.

Never locks his car bc you can’t just start it like a normal car so no one can steal it. also, no one wants a 20 yr old car

only Hunk and Lance can start her. everyone else has tried but they can’t figure out how lance and hunk do it.

Group belief is that Blue runs on magic

Has a “My child is an Honor Student” bumper sticker and he loves it. Cue group inside joke about Hunk and Lance being proud parents of their Honor Student child Pidge.

Once tried taking Keith on a romantic date out to the woods but Blue got stuck in the trail bc Lance kept forgetting to replace his bald ass tires

Hunk had to go get them and gave Lance a lecture about it

they still had a nice time though just sitting on Blue’s hood

Hunk

Ok so he’s a mechanic right? Hunk runs a small shop where he buys cheap cars people can’t fix, fixes them, and sells them for profit but he really excels at restoration

Drives a pastel yellow Ford F100 from the 50′s called Butter

She’s actually a F250 under the hood but shhhhhh

the only thing original on this babe is the body, which Hunk routinely checks for rust or damage

There’s usually car parts, wood, or other random things in the bed bc Hunk also does construction on the side but if you wanna go star gaze, Butter is the best

Hunk will make a nest and it’s routine for everyone to just fall asleep in there watching the stars

Hasn’t done anything crazy in Butter bc she’s an antique and he is Responsible™

Like Keith he will spend hours buffing out any scratches and while he won’t completely loose it over bigger damages he will cry and be morose until he repairs it

However, if you put your feet on the dash he will break-check your ass, DON’T. DO. IT.

No eating in his car either

in fact don’t even be dirty in his car ok

Hates driving in winter bc the salt they put on the roads is terrible for cars and he feels her pain so he usually goes places with Lance or waits for the Weekend Costco Trip with Shiro

Is a good one to call if you get stuck bc this babe can pullout anything

Puts the reindeer antlers on his car for christmas

Puts flower bouquets in the grill for summer

Pidge

has two vehicles: a little lime green Vespa for summer and a deep green 2005 Prius for winter

hasn’t really named her vehicles and just refers to them as the Vespa and the Prius

she does love them though, like they are always clean and shiny

Got the Prius for her 18th birthday and she saved up for the Vespa bc she wanted to be that person who goes to Famer’s Market wearing a big straw hat and nice sun dress on a scooter

she’s adorable

shows up at Shiro’s, “I’m here to pick up a fossil” “Pidge I’m 25.” “Yeah, he’s got white hair and 4 children”

shows up and Lance and Hunk’s place, “Get in nerds, we’re going shopping”

sees Keith out on the street while on her Vespa. Challenges him to a race. Keith let her win once and it was all she could talk about for weeks bc she was so proud of her Vespa

modified the horn of her Prius to a semi-truck honk and uses it only for evil

there’s always soil in the back of the Prius bc she uses it to visit the nursery and just never cleans it

smells like earth in it as a result and it’s actually super peaceful

Gives everyone shit about their gas mileage bc she gets like 40+ to the gallon

#voltron imagines #voltron scenarios #voltron headcannons #imagines #takashi shirogane #keith kogane #hunk garrett #lance mcclain #pidge gunderson #katie holt #voltron #vld #i couldn't think of anything for allura #but coran has a mini van #or a camero #i haven't decided #mod sel

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