#narrator doesn't realize it at first but when he does he loses his shit

[martyryo]

Infectious kiss

[haveihitanerve]

GREGOR THE OVERLANDER IS AN ADORABLE BEAN BUT ALSO THE SASSIEST MF EVER AND IT NEEDS TO BE ADDRESSED

Bro was literally just attacked by an enemy rat and when he discovers that that rat is in fact not an enemy, his first words are ‘get off me man’ as he tries to push said rat away

He cracks his bubblegum a second time solely to see ripred flinch

(I just realized a shit ton of these are gonna be with ripred because, duh, hes only allowed to be a kid around the rat and his sass only comes out when he doesn't have to protect boots or someone)

‘I know someone else who’s in trouble’ gregor please. You just woke up after fainting because a squid pulled your arm. Please save the witty remarks for another time

‘I guess shes smarter’ like damn son

‘Sorry to bug you- i mean bother you’ i know it wasn't intentional but thats just hilarious

‘Ill tell him you said hi. You know, if hes still alive’ okay i know this was way out of line, but it made me laugh so hard. I honestly am not that huge of a fan of hamnet (don't come after me its my opinion) and so this made me smile

When he does his sprint in the first book and ‘faked them out’ making the bats lose formation and riders struggle to stay on

'he felt around desperatley for a weapon. what did he have? diapers? cookies?" its technically him because its narrated from his pov so that hilarious

"said Vikus, as if that explained it all"-again, said from gregors pov so him being sassy. in his head at least

"The mighty warrior excused himself and changed a diaper.”

"Who was Simon? He had no idea.”

“The place did kind of resemble a locker room if locker rooms were gorgeous and smelled good.”-dude. this kid is my frickin hero

Also some honorary ares mentions because as bonds they are the same person-

In the labyrinth, come to a point where they can go three ways “lets go left” (these aren't the exact words but im too lazy to go look it up) that path circles back around to where they started “on further reflection i favor the right” that circles back round. Only one tunnel left “why don't you chose?” o.m.f.g ares. I love you sm

Also- delivering the bane to ripred: please don't tell me you've become attached to ol twitchtip. Ares: as far as rats go, she is among our favorite. O.M.F.G ARES! I don't think he ever exchanges another word with ripred. The only time he ever talks to the rat is to confirm that she is their favorite rat. Not him. Like- i love him sm

And when theyre training for the army in the last book and gregor asks, ‘have a good nap?’ and ares just responds, ‘all twenty minutes of it’ ashdfgsfhgenhvengh!!!!! I love this dork sm. 

‘You learn fast’ like ma boi-! But its so cute because it distracts gregor from his fear of being a rager and gets him to laugh and its the first time they act like bonds and its super cute

“Aurora and I go with our bonds,” muttered Ares- he could just say it- but no. he mutters. i adore this bat

Ares flew straight for the rat.- its not sass but like- yes

"get off my chest what?'' get it ares. teach gregor mannors haha

yeah thats all i could think of off the top of my head

[ratboycore]

Companions opinions about weed 🚶

Ada: Doesn't really care. She knows the medicinal benefits and is completely fine with people around her using it.

Cait (before her personal quest): Smokes from time to time, but prefers harder drugs. She obviously doesn't care about people using it around her.

Cait (after her personal quest): No longer smokes, and gets really uncomfortable about people using it around her. However, if it's for medicinal benefit, then she'll just step out of the room instead of yelling at whoever is smoking.

Codsworth: Highly disapproves of recreational use. If he finds out Sole is smoking recreationally, they're in for an ear full. However, he's a bit more lenient about medical use. He'll disapprove at first and suggest a million and one other options. But if Sole has tried other options and cannabis is the best one, he'll learn to deal with it.

Curie: After finding out Sole smokes, she began more research into the benefits and uses of cannabis. She uses it as an opportunity to run experiments with other medicinal plants as well. All in all, she finds it an interesting topic, and often encourages Sole to smoke around her so she can study the effects.

Danse: Similar to Codsworth, he's appalled by recreational use. Smoking without medical reason in front of him is a surefire way to lose his respect. However, he doesn't mind medical use at all, as he's dealt with plenty of soldiers in the past who have needed it for various reasons. Though, he doesn't like being in the same room while Sole smokes no matter what, as it makes him sneeze.

Deacon: Definitely smokes. They're completely cool with it, as long as you share, and as long as it isn't getting in the way of the mission. They once got really high and put two radroaches in a ring to watch them fight while they narrated like it was a wrestling match. Though, they don't approve of anything harder than weed. So don't think you can use a shit ton of drugs with them and expect them to be cool.

Dogmeat: Does not care at all. Just happy to be around Sole, even if they smell like weed all the time. Using this as a reminder to not smoke with your pets in the room, it's bad for them.

Hancock: Obviously is super cool with it. He uses cannabis all the time, in a variety of different forms. When Sole smokes, he whines if they don't share. Him and Sole often make edibles together and then get high off their asses. He's very giggly and loud when he's high, much to Fahrenheit's dismay.

MacCready: He isn't a big fan of it for himself, as he prefers his mind to be clear and sharp. While he doesn't necessarily dislike other people using it, he doesn't like being in the same room while someone smokes because it gives him a serious headache. When Sole smokes, he'll leave the room and go do something else for a while. He kind of just minds his own business.

Nick: He disapproves of any recreational use, but is way more understanding of medical use. While he won't yell at you for smoking recreationally, he'll make passive-aggressive, disapproving comments until you stop. If it goes on for a while, he'll sit you down and have one of his famous Disapproving Dad talks with you. Despite his firm opinions, he's an advocate for medical use, and will help Sole out in any way they need.

Old Longfellow: Definitely smokes weed himself. He'll share a blunt with Sole whenever they come to his cabin, and they'll laugh at stupid shit together.

Piper: She's uncomfortable with it at first, but slowly edges into the idea once she realizes that Sole just becomes a lot more giggly and hungry when they smoke. She doesn't like being in the same room though, and will ask you to step outside. However, if you smoke in front of Nat, she will never speak to you again.

Porter: NO. He gets really annoyed and pissed off if you smoke in front of him, even medicinally. He thinks that it clouds the mind too much, and shouldn't be used by someone who's trying to keep three different gangs from killing each other. He'll slap it out of your hand and make passive-aggressive comments for the rest of the day.

Preston: Doesn't really care either way. Like MacCready, he has to step out because it gives him bad headaches.

X6-88: Disapproves of it no matter what. They think it's stupid, even when used medically. Whenever Sole smokes in front of them, instead of just telling them off, they pull up statistics of deaths and addiction rates related to cannabis until they get uncomfortable and stop smoking.

[jangofctts]

(sorry for the format i think but this is loNG WTF IS WRONG W ME ITS INCOHERENT I'M LOCKIN MYSELF UP OFF TO HORNY JAIL I GO) deadass when you nd the boys are days away from being back on coruscant and on shore leave for a minute bc the general got some weird jedi shit to deal with is when u become peak Brat™ like it is so bad even the resident brat fuse can't keep up, the whole squad is screaming, and no one can stop u (yet) like you love teasing the boys but this is next level annoying like lets say max asks u to do something to help him get ready to fuck off for leave and ur just like no💕 i will cause problems on purpose))) he isn't happy and keeps asking while doing other work, realizes he's getting nowhere, and starts w the vague threats “you won’t like what happens if u keep this up” or “you really don't want to do this right now" but u finally do a few things to help before u leave to annoy void bc that man doesn't deal w enough shenanigans apparently...

u help void for a bit but get bored when void is just doing inventory and requisitions asking you how much of this or that nd you start saying "not enough" or "a fuckton" and while he appreciates the honesty it's not helpful but you ask "can't a droid do inventory? they know how to count?" getting a snarky reply of "yeah unlike you" obviously fed up but u continue to annoy him maybe cause mischief w the boys if they're there? maybe get handsy? threaten stupidity? who knows but anything u do is gonna get an exasperated sigh and "i'm gonna tell max about this shit" but what is he gonna do? punish u? [narrator: he, in fact does just that] so this goes on for a while but at some point when you are like 10 hrs out from coruscant max herds u to his quarters but lo and behold it's not bc he needs someone to fix his datapad but bc ur in for the punishment of ur life lol this man must have been planning this since ur first bratty act bc he has a bunch of stuff laid out just for u))) seeing this, u turn on the sad puppy eyes/pouty face and the "but i can be a good girl for u" or "i'm sorry i was just antsy to get back let me make it up to you" but nothing is gonna work now especially when he puts u over his knee.

he's pulling ur pants down over ur ass, revealing ur going commando today and u give him the "whats wrong maxy?" over ur shoulder just before he starts ur punishment isn't he sweet? he only spanks you a few times bc ur real punishment is SO MUCH worse and u realize this when he ties ur hands together over ur head and ties ur ankles together too hmmmmm this was more than u bargained for and u keep pleading with max when he takes his armor and blacks off but he keeps saying "u did this to yourself baby" and that he "can't help now" because "u didn't listen earlier like a good girl" but once he gets situated on the bed u know ur in for it. he grabbed some lube from his drawer and slicked himself up while telling u that "u won't be enjoying this part but i think i will" as he takes a hold of ur legs and lining himself up with not ur entrance but between ur thighs right above ur clit bc surprise! this ass and thigh man is gonna go to town fucking ur thighs while just grazing ur clit every few strokes absolutely working u up but no where near enough to get u off just like he planned. max really does love a good thigh fucking and so do u but he's usually playing with ur clit teasing u until he hits home and fills u up right - this time none of that is happening. u keep whining which just eggs him on more to bully u with "good girls deserve my thick cock but u decided to be a brat hm?" and "brats don't get to cum last time i checked" until he loses his rhythm and shutters as he cums all over ur stomach. he slowly gets out between ur thighs and runs his hands through the mess but ur still whiny so he shushes u with cum slick fingers before he gets up to grab his comlink just leaving the rest to get sticky (so rude)

he calls up void nd hear him say "my hip is acting up could u come look at it later?" with "did ur dumb ass do something again? give me a bit i'll head over" in reply with no idea what is waiting for him when he comes through the door. u have no idea how long it'll b until void comes so u keep trying to plead ur case to max telling him ur "sorry for being annoying and bratty i learned my lesson can i cum now?" but getting a surprising "lets see what void thinks" in return. its at least half an hour until void opens the door to see u tied to max's bed and him hovering over u just taunting and playing with u as he sees fit but honestly at this point nothing can really truly shock void now but this peaked his interest. max tries to explain saying "she was being a br-" "a brat i know i didn't think it would end up like this but" void starts as he takes off his remaining armor and ur begging for SOMETHING since max was so mean not even going near ur pussy (again rude) but thankfully void isn't a sadist (today) and starts teasing u by running his fingers through ur folds, playing with ur clit, and starts opening u up for him.

once he gets u good and wet he starts slowly rocking into u while u keep begging for him to give u permission to cum but he says that "brats don't get to cum they just get used))))" and ur thinkin ur definitely not gonna be cumming anytime soon but this mf just goes straight to pound town w the week/month/whatever he's had and the bratting u've done lol and u start clenching trying to get a rise out of him or get him to say something, ANYTHING but void won't give u the satisfaction of hearing his usual dirty talk, no, this is his version of punishment just letting u hear and feel him fuck u faster as he approaches his orgasm not caring about yours (yet) just feeling u tighten around him until he can't handle it and cums deep inside u just staying there for a minute catching his breath and u think void is done but oh lord no he is very much not lol he unties ur ankles and goes straight for ur pussy eating u out and cleaning up the mess he made inside and out, rutting into the sheets and making u squirm like nothing else maybe max wanders back over to you too and helps him out idk i was just having thots (since everyone is whore knee for wrecker rn i remember sending a wrecker ask a million years ago i can send it again if u want also i have a short fuse thing for u so))))) love being a whore)

ok bye im gonna be checking myself into the fuckin hospital THIS IS PURE GOLD IM

wOw

[lcvenderblues]

i just have to say; when i saw the alert for this fic this morning, i did scream in delight a little bit. what a wonderful surprise to wake up to!!!!!!!!!!

first, just. holy shit!!!!!! i'm in awe of how different poe's voice as the narrator sounds and feels, as opposed to the reader's, in the original 'directions'. and i loved getting poe's perspective on their relationship and seeing the way it shone a whole new light on their dynamic.

one particular area of contrast that really struck me was the way, where she kept her feelings close to her chest, and would hardly admit them to herself; poe's long past admitting he's utterly gone for her, just keeps it to himself for fear of ruining their friendship:

He’d meant it when he told her he thought this would be fun. Because everything is, with her. He thought she’d be giving him shit the whole time. He’d expected her to be unimpressed with him in the way only she ever is; doing what she does best and keeping his feet nailed to solid ground even while his head did tailspins around the sound of her laughing at him.

that last bit made me fucking ache. the diction, the flight metaphor, the sheer pining!!!!! and i love poe's character as someone who's really in touch with his own emotions, and that just felt so authentic and true to him.

Doesn’t she know? Can’t she already fucking tell? He’d worship the ground she walks on if he knew she wouldn’t laugh herself sick at him if he tried.

It would be funny, if it weren’t so painful. That for all of her quick, sharp perception, she’d miss this, so entirely.

this bit had me literally tearing up in the breakroom at work, no word of a lie. and it throws me back so hard to that "you never take me seriously" line in the original— how many times has poe tried to make his feelings known and it just flew right over her head, simply because she couldn't believe that he'd ever be serious about her when he never is about anybody else, not realizing that she's not just the exception, she's the reason?

“What, baby? Talk to me.” He leans up, bracing himself over her. Maybe she’s changed her mind. Maybe she’s had enough and she’s going to tell him to stop, to give her back her pants, to never mention any of this again.

It’s still more than he’d ever imagined he’d get.

this also just stuck out to me so hard, this little glimpse into poe's insecurity because i remember finding him so utterly unflappable throughout the whole thing through her eyes— but of course she'd see him like that. and the way at this exact moment she's holding back her own confessions, just on the other end of vulnerability, not quite brave enough to cross the line because she doesn't know that'd he'd be right there, waiting to meet her in the middle... brb gonna go cry some more

another thing that just delighted me was; how in the original it really illustrates how her automatic, anxiety-driven response to this situation is to start trying so hard, thinking of washing her hair and borrowing something nice to wear, and maybe it's a part of her general anxiety surrounding sex, but specifically about sex with poe— and the way that the exact opposite is true for him;

He’s usually far more thoughtful than this when he has company, but this time he hadn’t unclipped his necklace, or changed his clothes or sheets. The thought simply hadn’t occurred to him. Because she doesn’t feel like—has never felt like—a guest in his bed. In fact, her absences have only ever felt like temporary discomforts to be endured until her return.

he doesn't clean up his room or bother to take his necklace off, because it's her. (and then the thought that, at least at first, she takes his casual attitude for being indicative of how inconsequential the whole thing is to him— when that couldn't be more untrue; here, you can see him actively losing his shit because, this thing he's imagined so many times, couldn't help dreaming of despite the guilt he felt for thinking of her in that way, is actually happening and this might be his only chance to have her like this so he better make it count— and the casualness is really about just how comfortable he is with her....... i am WEEPING.)

god i could keep going on and on about this. i think i could write a THESIS about this. but i won't subject you to that 😅 thank you so, so much for sharing this and tagging me in it!!! i already know i'm going to come back to this one so many times... 🤍🤍

okay I'm not sure I'd you're still doing the uh. thing where you write a scene from a different pov but if you are and have time/interest, would you feel like doing poe pov with that part in directions where he asks how many other guys she's been with? I love love love that fic so much btw and I'm gonna go through your masterlist when I get off work <3

Hello! ✨ A little confession: some of these have been sitting in my inbox for months. I secretly didn't plan on fulfilling this request because it meant that I'd need to go re-read Directions, and I very rarely read my own writing again once it's been posted. But I was in the mood for something fun and easy, and then I actually had a great time revisiting this story! So thank you so so much @buckyisdisabled, @lostinwonderland314, @mandaloriandin and sweet Yearning Human anon for asking for this and for your lovely messages. I really hope you have as much fun reading it as I did writing it x

Pairing: Poe Dameron x F!Reader

Word Count: 3.5k

Rating: Explicit 18+

Warnings: PIV, creampie, oral sex (f! receiving), fingering, squirting, feelings, implied cum eating, overstimulation, masturbation, friends to lovers

This is reworking of a scene from this fic, told from Poe’s POV.

from a certain point of view ask game ✨

———

———

Poe sucks his slick fingers into his mouth, and her taste hits his head like spice; sharp and sweet.

She pants up at him from his pillow (his pillow) her eyes wide as a nervous animal’s, her hands curled into fists. It takes everything he has not to blow his load in his pants right then and there.

He feels a little drunk. He needs to course-correct.

Drastically.

He’d meant it when he told her he thought this would be fun. Because everything is, with her. He thought she’d be giving him shit the whole time. He’d expected her to be unimpressed with him in the way only she ever is; doing what she does best and keeping his feet nailed to solid ground even while his head did tailspins around the sound of her laughing at him. 

But she’s not laughing at him. The way she’s looking up at him…

This, right here, is extremely fucking serious for her.

Maybe he should’ve tried to make this nicer. Maybe he should’ve lit candles.

For reasons that are not entirely clear, he catches himself remembering a particularly fucked up day from several months back. His comms and tracking had both shorted out after a hit in the middle of an above-planet dogfight with no visual, and for about two hours, the Resistance network listed him PKIA. 

When he’d eventually landed back in the hanger, it was chaotic with smoking, twisted astromech parts. Unbeknownst to him, Black One was a ghost ship. 

Mechanics and pilots alike had turned and gaped in silent shock as he’d climbed out of his cockpit, and he’d only had a moment to wonder whether there was something growing out of the top of his head before he’d been knocked off his feet by a sobbing projectile stinking of sweat and smoke in an oil-stained flightsuit.

She’d only stopped crying after socking him in the chest, her voice hoarse as she told him how much of an idiot he was for not switching over to his backup signal.

He’d never wanted to see that look on her face ever again, and if he hadn’t pushed her into verbalising the source of her terror here, he’d be too turned off to go any further. He doesn’t go in for that shit; he wants his partners relaxed and comfortable and enthusiastically willing.

But it’s knowing what she’s actually worrying about—stuck in her head as always, thinking about everyone else; what he thinks of her, rather than focusing on how she feels—that makes him determined to stick with her, as long as she says. 

He’s staggered by the amount of trust she’s putting in him. Shit, he doesn’t know whether it makes his heart ache more, or his dick. Like she has anything to be nervous about. Like she isn’t the prettiest fucking girl he knows. Like making her smile isn’t the single greatest source of pride he gets to hold over himself. 

Doesn’t she know? Can’t she already fucking tell? He’d worship the ground she walks on if he knew she wouldn’t laugh herself sick at him if he tried. 

It would be funny, if it weren’t so painful. That for all of her quick, sharp perception, she’d miss this, so entirely.

“Perfect. You’re perfect,” he says softly, and he can see how little she believes him. “Told you. Nothing wrong with you. I wanna try something,” he continues, before she can say anything to piss him off. He can handle her putting shit on him. He isn’t letting her do it to herself. “You’ll like it, I promise. And if you don’t just tell me and we’ll stop. Okay?”

“Okay,” she says, nodding, her eyes still huge. A sudden throb of affection makes his head feel like it’s filled with tibanna gas. 

“I’m gonna take your pants off,” he tells her, grasping each of her ankles to do exactly this.

She lifts her ass toward him as he wriggles her underwear and pants over her legs, giving him a brief glimpse of the most beautiful view he’s ever seen in his life.

His brain’s still catching up when he sees the furtive way her eyes keep flicking down toward where it feels like his dick’s trying to bust through his fly.

“Don’t you want…?” 

“It’s not about me,” he cuts her off. And if you touch me right now I won’t make it, and I’ll ruin my reputation, and kill any chance of living any of this shit down with you ever again, he decides not to add.

He bends, spreading her legs with both hands. Her clit’s so swollen her labia are parted around it, the soft skin inside her thighs smeared with her first orgasm. 

Her first orgasm—the first one another person’s given her, anyway—and it’s his.

And, oh, it had been so easy.

His ego is not immune to this.

But, nice as it is, it doesn’t quite feel like a boost in the traditional sense. It feels something more like a twinge, hard and new, right under his ribcage. Like vindication, maybe, or—and he feels like a fucking moron for even thinking it—fate.

He bows from the waist and nudges into her with his nose, his tongue laving a stripe up the entire length of her pussy. 

Her skin tastes like soap. Somewhere in the dimmest corners of his head he’s annoyed at this; imagines her scouring every inch of herself raw in the showers before coming to him, filled with nerves and doubt under the spray. He presses the muscle of his tongue into her opening in search of more of the her he’d found on his fingers.

The sound she makes zips lightning-hot straight to his guts. 

His eyes roll briefly closed, and he sinks down onto his elbows, the twisted line of the sheets digging into his skin under his weight.

She shifts her thighs together, her fingers twitching at her side. He steals a glance up and finds her watching him, her lips parted, her eyes too-bright.

“Open your legs,” he encourages, his lips barely lifting from her skin. She sinks her teeth into her lip as she lets her knees fall flat to the bed. 

She’s spread out open in front of him, and he dips his head to continue. 

She flinches and tenses and exhales in turn, reacting to every touch of his mouth as though speaking aloud. It makes him feel violently impatient, and so he moves slower, trying to temper himself. 

He wants to be inside her. 

He wants to swallow her, and to be swallowed by her. Fuck, he’s never wanted anything more in his life.

He’s pretty sure he’s leaking precum into his pants; all the blood having long vacated his brain to swell bruise-achingly hard in his cock. He tries to stay focused, but the reality is that Poe’s thoughts ran away from him the second she set foot in his room. The challenge now is to just try not to do something stupid.

Something stupider than fucking his best friend.

She hisses, tossing her head back, her legs twitching so hard his tongue nearly loses its place against the hot nub of her clit. 

He slides both hands beneath her thighs to lift her hips to his face in an attempt to keep her still, barely managing to tamp down the urge to rut helplessly against the mattress in search of relief.

The smell of her, the taste, fills his senses. But it’s still not enough. He wants to bring her to insensibility; to work that softness into the bed, glutting himself until her whimpers turn to those of overstimulation.

He’d never really considered himself a possessive person, but as she quietly sucks in a sharp, shallow breath, he realises he wants that sound all to himself.

He pulls it out of her with his tongue again, and again, his attention unwavering.

He wants her thinking of this, of him, from now on. Every single time she comes, alone or otherwise. He wants her to dream about him inside her; tongue, fingers, cock, he doesn’t give a fuck. At briefings. At meals. Waiting around bored for launch clearance in her fighter, standing alone in the showers, when someone else presses their hands to her skin, and lifts her chin to meet her lips (and fuck, that hurts to think about, like hitting realspace at-speed, hard enough to grind his bones together). 

She comes with a pained-sounding cry, her pubic bone bumping into his nose and pushing his face away. He drags himself up and finds her reaching her hands out as though to stop him. 

“You okay?” he manages.

“Poe, I want…please…”

“What, baby? Talk to me.” He leans up, bracing himself over her. Maybe she’s changed her mind. Maybe she’s had enough and she’s going to tell him to stop, to give her back her pants, to never mention any of this again.

It’s still more than he’d ever imagined he’d get.

Her eyes stay on his and she blinks slowly at him, as though trying to remember who he is. His heart thunks hollowly in his chest, and he waits.

“Fuck me.”

He pauses. It wasn’t what he’d expected her to say. His already-painful cock jumps in his pants at the demand. “You need a break first?”

She answers by trying to drag him down toward her, her hips lifting to press against him, ankles hooked around the backs of his legs. 

He doesn’t wait to be told twice. He shifts his weight, kicking his pants down, settling himself between her legs. 

She ducks her chin and kisses his shoulder.

His head swims. He barely feels the touch of her lips through the material of his shirt, but it hardly matters. The gesture is so small, so careful, so quick, as though she couldn’t help herself.

As though it’s something she’s thought of before.

Which is when it hits him: the one thing he’s never seriously let himself entertain. Does he…actually have a chance? 

Without undue vanity, Poe knows that his looks are the one area, at least, that he can afford not to worry about. He’s not an idiot. He knows exactly how people respond when he flashes his teeth at them, or holds their eyes with his own for a protracted moment from beneath a quirked eyebrow. 

But never her. She’s somehow always been frustratingly, crushingly immune to every single weapon in his arsenal. It had been a source of ire in the early days, while he was still learning the colour of her voice, and the shape of her mind. 

The sadder, slower ache of acceptance had come later; gathering like thunderheads, lingering long.

She wasn’t for him. She didn’t want to be. Letting himself pretend otherwise would have only ever been an exercise in masochism. 

Despite all of this, Poe’s still human. And, as he had come to realise, knowing something intellectually is very different to knowing it physically.

Whenever she smiles at him, and bumps into him, and rolls her eyes at him. Whenever he’s inside somebody else, tasting the sweat on their skin, or stretched out around their pleasure. Whenever he jerks his cock alone in his bunk late at night, ashamed and furious at himself for such a disgraceful breach of their friendship, for the things he’s imagined.

Everything he’s ever done with anybody else; every filthy, beautiful fucking thing, he’d turn himself inside out and crawl over hot coals to do again with her, to her, for her, if she wanted.

And now, here she is.

He might not ever get another shot at this.

He needs to make it count.

“How many other guys’ve you been with?” he says, his voice coming out rough. She looks mortified, but he doesn’t care. “How many?”

“S-six,” she says. 

He nods. He’d already known about Kip and Terrett, and he’d had his suspicions about Rau and Valen. He’s a little disappointed at the knowledge that Rau had let her down with all the others; he wouldn’t have expected it. 

“Then that’s six other times we gotta make up for,” he says, distractedly. 

He presses forward, and the first millimetre he sinks inside her already has him panicking. 

She immediately feels far too hot and close, but the hardest part, the part threatening to undo everything, is the way she’s looking up at him, as though silently pleading with him, and Gods, how she doesn’t need to.

“Oh, sh...shit. You good? I’m good. That’s…ungh, so fucking good.” He’s aware he’s making no sense, but that’s the only thing left in his head, probably the only thing he’ll ever know again: good, good, good.

Her fingers are clenched tight around his forearm, and he thinks she might be holding her breath, but then she lets it go, and the wet bloom of her cunt swallows him fractionally deeper.

“You’re doing so good baby, you’re taking me so well, you feel perfect,” he groans, hoping he doesn’t sound as wrecked as he feels, his guts on fire with need.

She squirms under him, and fuck, she feels incredible. After coming twice he can feel the evidence of how wet she is, the smooth glide of her body gripping close around him, giving way slowly. 

It’s suddenly too fucking hot in his room. He can feel his hair sticking to the back of his neck and around his ears, and it’s vaguely annoying, but he couldn’t give a shit. 

Her warm breath meets his chin, and he follows the line of her attention down the length of his own body, to the place where his hips are flush against hers. Between her parted legs he can see his cock half-sunk inside her, and his face presses to her damp, salty skin as he murmurs to her, pressing forward, enveloped entirely by her.

He has no idea what he’s saying. It just feels important for her to know. 

Whatever it is, he never gets the chance to find out.

Because then she’s kissing him, and her mouth is on his and her lips are parting and they’re soft and her teeth are catching at the dry ege of his lower lip and her breath is hot and it’s hers and it’s in his mouth and it’s in his lungs and it’s oxygenating his fucking blood and pumping through his heart and his brain and searing through every single part of him until she’s all that’s left.

He’s pretty sure he’s dying.

“Holy fuck,” he thinks he’s trying to say, and he feels her smiling, gently biting into his lip, keeping him quiet. 

She rolls her hips up against his, pushing herself off the bed. He can feel himself rapidly losing control as she throws her head back, her brows drawn, teeth cutting into her own lip.

“Baby, wait, wait a sec,” he pants.

“What’s wrong?” she gasps, and of course she doesn’t listen; she never fucking listens to him, rocking up toward him, making him see stars. 

“Just…fuck, hang on.” Cold showers, he thinks, grimly. Freezing cold showers, and depressurised-cockpit earaches. Nine hour-long diplomatic debriefs. The rancid-smelling mucus trail Klaud leaves behind everywhere he goes.

“Is this…not good?” she says, low and weak. “Poe?”

His eyes nearly roll back in his head as she whispers his name, and the sound jolts through him—her voice, the one he knows so well—like this, with him.

Whatever pitiful electricity’s still left in the meat of his brain fizzles out. “Oh shit, say my name again,” he begs, not even waiting for her to do so. 

He’s already moving, needing to feel the walls of her cunt stroking and sucking at his cock. “D’you know how many times I’ve thought about this? About being inside you like this? And I never, ever thought you’d wanna…” 

He shouldn’t be saying this. He’s gotta be real fucking careful, if he doesn’t want to accidentally tell her every shameful daydream he’s ever had about her and disintegrate what’s left of their friendship into dust. 

“You’re fucking perfect,” he tells her instead. “Your pussy is perfect.” 

She recoils, and it’s equal parts adorable and infuriating that even now she’d be embarrassed to hear him say this.

He almost laughs. “Why’s that make you shy? You don’t like me talking about your pussy? You wanna know how good you taste, baby? You’re sweet, so sweet and tight and—” and fuck, he can still taste her on his lips, and he watches her carefully, finding the place that makes her fall boneless and focusing there, right there, until the viselike grip on his arms weakens and she’s coming again.

Her voice breaks, but he doesn’t slow. She can take it. 

He pushes her hips down, fucking her into the mattress, skin clapping on skin. She’s yanking at his hair hard enough to hurt, but he relishes the pain because it keeps his vision clear; exactly where he wants to be. 

Her orgasm tumbles into another, and he seizes her knees, lifting her toward him as he picks up his pace. She moans, belatedly trying to cover the sound with her hand, and it’s the sweetest music he’s ever heard. He is never, ever going to be able to get that sound out of his head again.

“Hey, hey. Let me hear that,” he says, leaning closer, dragging her hand away. “Don’t you cover that up. Come on, baby, I wanna hear you.” She presses her lips together, and he huffs, driving himself into her just a little harder than strictly necessary.

He’s rewarded with a weak, throaty whimper, and he grins at her. “That’s the sexiest fucking thing I’ve ever heard,” he confesses.

Her nipples stand through the thin, sweat-sheer fabric of her tank top, her softness rippling upwards with every stroke. He watches her body greedily, wanting more, wanting everything all at once. 

He wants, very badly, to lick her again, all the way from her neck to her sweet, trembling cunt. He can still taste her on his tongue as he presses his fingers down to her clit, just above the place where he’s still pumping in and out of her.

She cries out, coming again until she’s melting wet into the bed. 

He still doesn’t slow, but his thoughts have run away from him and all of a sudden he realises it’s too late, far too late to stop himself.

He wants her full of his cum, until he’s emptied out all of the ache of himself into her, and her pretty, swollen cunt’s overfull with him until he dribbles out from between her lips and onto his fingers, making a mess of the sheets so he can start all over again.

Right at the precipice of his climax, she opens her eyes and looks up at him. There are tears of overstimulation clinging to her eyelashes, and her fingers are clutching gently at the back of his shirt. 

Nobody has ever laid me down as low as you, he thinks, surprised at the strength of his emotion, willing her to understand.

But then he’s coming so hard his limbs go numb, and he isn’t thinking anything anymore. 

He presses himself deep, deep inside, shaking violently as she swallows every pulse of his orgasm. His heart is thunderous in his ears, his muscles liquefied. He slumps, panting.

If she objects to the deadweight of his body over hers, she doesn’t say anything. He stays there, smothering her, trying to regain his breath, until he can feel her beginning to shift uncomfortably beneath him.

“Was that…okay?” she says, ridiculously, like his soul didn’t just leave his body.

He doesn’t even bother responding to the question. “You’re crazy,” he muses instead. “She’s crazy.”

He’s lifting himself off her when his chain swings from the neck of his shirt, clocking her between the eyes. “Oh, shit,” he says, as she gasps in pain. “Sorry, baby.” He presses his fingers to the spot, feeling guilty. “Normally I’d’ve taken that off.”

He’s usually far more thoughtful than this when he has company, but this time he hadn’t unclipped his necklace, or changed his clothes or sheets. The thought simply hadn’t occurred to him. Because she doesn't feel like—has never felt like—a guest in his bed. In fact, her absences have only ever felt like temporary discomforts to be endured until her return.

She’s scowling at him, her nose wrinkled up like a Weequay’s, and it’s so fucking cute he wants to kiss her again. “Why didn’t you?” she says.

She needs to ask? “Because it’s you.”

As he crawls back down between her legs, he finds a spectacular mess of cum and sweat and the evidence of her orgasms on the sheets, and fuck, it’s soaking down here. He wonders whether she even realises what she’s done.

He’s disappointed he didn’t get to watch. He’s sure he can get her to do it again, though.

She blinks down at him, her eyes glassy. “What are you doing?”

His mouth waters watching the way her wet skin shines and he feels an answering twitch in his recently-softened cock. “Cleaning you up. We’re not done yet.”

Her eyes widen, but whatever she does next, he misses it.

He’s preoccupied.

Just tagging a couple of the lovely people who commented on the original and might be interested in this, absolutely no pressure of course! x

@saradika @oscarseyebrow @the-little-ewok @bacarasbabe @writeforfandoms @hardc0rehaylz @moonlight-prose @lcvenderblues @onfiretakemehigher @littlemousedroid @viceofdionysus @grufflepuff-writes-stuff @ifimayhaveaword @millllenniawrites @liamakorn @lilhawkeye3 @grumpymuffinmama @dailyreverie @mandelirious

[bettsfic]

i'm rereading honeycomb, and one thing that's always bothered me is rey's behavior after leia shows up. why does she leave to go stay with leia, after she showed up unannounced? I know kylo's outburst freaked her out, that's understandable, but it seems cruel for her to blame that same outburst on kylo and take leia's side, as though leia was being reasonable. rey knows kylo best, knew it would upset him when leia showed up announced, even finn who doesn't like kylo said recognized leia's

presence was triggering? i guess it's less, why did she stay with leia but why would she say i'm staying with leia bc she is hurting and you keep hurting her and not doing enough to reconnect? leia called kylo a traitor to their family and then the country like? leia isn't physically violent, but emotionally she's awful in honeycomb and it's like rey refuses to see that but will analyze ben carelessly

this is a great, insightful question. thank you for asking.

honeycomb is the first story i’ve written with the aim to transgress. that is to say, i wanted to complicate the nature of abuse by viewing it through the lens of an abused abuser seeking consensual physical pain. the intent of this, when it’s done well (and i’m not necessarily saying it’s done well here, seeing as it was my first attempt), is to make you question your own moral stance and understanding of cruelty and harm. 

it may be obvious to you that rey should have stayed with ben instead of leia, but to someone else, maybe not. that scene was meant to thread doubt into rey’s mind, that maybe she’s in over her head taking care of ben, and maybe she’s in more danger than she realized. it fractured her trust in him. i’ve never been in ben’s shoes; i’ve only been at the bad end of people like him, people who lose their temper and lash out. i was pretty surprised to see in the comments how many people not only sided with ben but related to him in this scene, because i think his behavior is abhorrent and unsympathetic. i thought everyone would be all, cool motive, still murder about it, but instead i heard a lot of sympathy and understanding that, in my mind, wasn’t deserved. 

being in ben’s lens gives us bias toward him. he’s the protagonist. we want him to win, get the guy, get away from his abuser, and be happy. it’s a romance, after all. but if i had written honeycomb from leia’s perspective as, say, original fiction, about a mother estranged from her children, ben would become the antagonist, the son hellbent on hurting her, who puts her on the defense, who can’t see she’s suffering and needs help.  

yes, leia triggered ben. but ben refuses to take agency over his own actions and behavior. in the scene, he admits he’s completely sound of mind, but just no longer cares whether or not he hurts anyone. to me, that’s terrifying, that someone can disconnect from their empathy like that, and yet we still retain our sympathy for ben and his plight against his mother. but rey can’t see it like that. she can only see that ben lost his shit and started destroying things, and even though leia is an emotional abuser, she at least knows leia will never lash out at her the way ben did. and so rey, the habitual rescuer, suddenly aligns with the person at the bad end of the abuse. 

and i just can’t buy that anyone on the outside would side with ben here. in fact i found myself in this exact situation recently, a solid year after honeycomb finished, a good person being triggered and baited into physical lashing out by someone whose aim was to emotionally abuse, and when the shit hit the fan, it was their fault for acting, and it had astronomical social effects involving being excommunicated from their entire social net, while the emotional abuser got nothing but sympathy and support. i see post after post on this site about no forgiveness for abusers, this black and white victim-perpetrator rhetoric, and i wanted to write a story where we could see the bigger context.

maybe i didn’t succeed in my intention here, but the idea is to make you question the situation (exactly as you’ve done) and try to see it from multiple angles. and then the idea is to make you question why you’re seeing abuse from multiple angles, why you’re siding with someone who uses his physical stature to intimidate and is not only capable of immense physical harm, but will use it if pushed far enough. 

if i had all the time and energy available to me, i would rewrite honeycomb from different perspectives to make the situation more believably complicated. it’s difficult when you’re trapped in the POV of an extremely biased narrator. he’s not unreliable, but he’s self-absorbed, and that makes it hard to complicate the scenario in the way i intended.