#needless to say i slept on the bottom bunk from that day on

[light-yaers]

The Hating Game [Poe Dameron x Reader]

Everyone knows it; you and Poe Dameron hate each other.

Or do you?

Warnings: explicit sexual content and mature themes.

Word Count - 8k+

This fic is inspired by The Bet by @no-droids

Read it on AO3 here!

Find my masterlist here!

You know that game “chicken”? Yeah, the one where you run across a road or stand in the middle of a target or purposefully try to pull off the hardest X-Wing manoeuvre in a ship that hasn’t had a new coolant compartment fitted since 30 ABY?

That’s what being in the Resistance was like.

But it was made even worse by Poe fucking Dameron.

From day one, there was something about the pilot that had got underneath your skin. Whether it was his incessant need to be the best, his overwhelming narcissism or the fact he still managed to get laid despite all those traits, you didn’t know.

All that you knew was that you hated the guy; with his stupid face; his shiny curls; and his pretty boy perfect teeth.

It was bad enough being locked within a never-ending competition with a fellow pilot, but being locked in it with Dameron meant that everyone on base knew. The rats that scurried around the base at night even knew the fucking wager that yourself and Dameron had somehow found yourselves in. And it was too late to back down now.

It had started out as a method of breaking the hatred between you two, some healthy competition to find a middle ground or something you had in common, when instead it only added fuel to each of your fires—

Essentially, it was a battle of who could piss off who the most. It was childish, it was stupid, but it was impossible for either of you to stop now that it’d begun.

Well, it was a lot easier than betting on who would kill Kylo Ren first.

You’d lost count how many days this had been going on, with each day bringing about a new bet amongst cadets. Needless to say, Dameron was favoured well. You didn’t exactly have haters, but it was clear that Dameron’s overbearing charm and his affinity to sleeping around had worked in his favour.

“Good morning, hot-shot,” he said, sliding up next to you and matching your pace as you strolled to the mess hall. “I trust you slept well?”

No. You hadn’t. He was asking because he knew you hadn’t.

“Despite the rewired clearance droid, stationed outside my dorm, that’d been instructed by a Commander to beep all night; I slept like a baby,” you let out, sending him an overly sweet smile. You upped your pace as he fell back behind you, grin covering the bottom half of his face.

He jogged to catch up. “Just can’t find the parts these days,”

“Can’t find solid roommates either, it seems,”

“No,” Poe let out, widening his eyes. “Blue-Seven bailed?”

“Applied for a room transfer this morning,” you muttered, your jaw clenched. It was all his fucking fault, you both knew it, but you also knew Poe well enough to see that he didn’t give a fuck. This was between you and him, no one else. If people removed themselves from the situation, he didn’t care.

“One is the loneliest number,” he said, awash with some form of fake sadness that was supposed to make you believe he was sorry. It only grated on you more. “You know, we could bunk together?”

You let out an abrupt scoff. “Fuck off, Dameron. I think I’ve made it abundantly clear that I would smother you in your sleep if I got the chance,”

“Oh baby, give me a warning next time you’re gonna make such an offer,” his shit-eating grin was enough to make you scowl. As the two of you entered the mess hall, you forced yourself to look in front of you, too afraid to look elsewhere.

To the right was a corkboard, erected at the start of this little ordeal between you and Dameron. That’s where the bets were, the running bets. Many had been crossed out, having been finished and cashed out.

Beat the other in training. Ignore the other for a day. Swap roles until one of you can’t continue, etcetera and so forth...

The day someone wrote up the challenge of steal the other’s clothes you knew you had to get to it first. No way in hell would Dameron catch you out like that, not in a place as feral as this base. Poe was more than comfortable showing some skin and you were more than happy to oblige if it meant no one saw too much of you.

At the time, stealing his clothes, while he was in the fresher, and forcing him to return to his dorm in nothing but a towel draped around his waist had seemed entertaining—

Until the bastard had instead gone straight to the mess hall, chest glistening, curls drenched, zero fucks given. He sauntered up to your table, one hand keeping the towel up as he leant down with the other. You peered up at him as he stood over you, a few drips of fresher water trickling down his clavicle.

“It seems my clothes have gone missing,” he said, only having eyes for you while the entire room buzzed with playful energy. You refrained from following the lines of his chest down to his abdomen, acting nonchalant as you tapped a mug of caf nervously.

“That’s unfortunate, Commander,” you knew calling him by his rank fucked him off. He hated the formality of it all, especially from you.

The whoops and hollers hadn’t phased the pilot; he’d only come in there to do one thing. Intimidate you, threaten you, remind you that everyone knew he was hot shit, whatever.

He loomed closer towards you, until you were overwhelmed by the sandalwood scent of his soap. It was unavoidable; you had to look at the exposed pilot. He smiled at you.

“Who’d you get to go inside the fresher, huh? Red-Two? Someone who’s not afraid of a little skin?” he questioned. You let out a scoff, amused by his accusation.

“It’s funny that you think I’d get giddy over a naked man,”

“Can’t get giddy over something you’ve never seen before, sweetheart,”

“And how do you know what I’ve seen? You stalking me?” you quipped back and forth pointlessly, yet neither one had the self-control to give up the fight.

“Don’t flatter yourself, baby,” he let out, lowering his voice until it was nothing but vibrations rolling through you. “Though I’d love to know who you’re shacking up with,”

“I tend to lean towards men that don’t hate my guts,” you landed on. Poe let out a long breath, smiling as he plucked his next retort.

“That’s what hate sex is for,” he said it so plainly that it caught you off guard. He leaned ever so slightly closer, so close that he could hear how hard you swallowed. “You should try it sometime,”

You hated to admit it, but the fine line between hatred and horn had started eroding away since that moment. Dameron was so intentional about it. He wanted to get you heated, he wanted to get you mad, as if some part of him got off on seeing how much he worked you up.

Some sadistic part of yourself could understand that, as with every annoyed scowl or blush of embarrassment you caused Dameron actually satisfied you. It made you unnecessarily happy, it fuelled you to keep going, despite the small nagging feeling that this fight was getting old.

This was the third time a bunkmate of yours had requested a transfer.

The third time someone had resented sleeping on the bed below yours just because of the ongoing fight that you and Dameron were in.

Maybe, just maybe, it had run its course—

Until you finally looked at the corkboard, where a new bet idea had been put up by one of the cadets.

“Well, would you look at that,” Dameron announced, just to grab your attention from further inside the hall.

Share a bunk for a week.

No fucking way.

“How does that benefit either of us? That’s just mutually assured tortured,” you said, trying not to show off just how annoyed you were. If you did that, you knew Poe would pounce on the idea immediately just to make you suffer.

“You really think it’s torturous to sleep next to me?” Poe questioned, and you knew you’d already fucked up. He was looking at you with his signature grin, the one that conveyed exactly what he was feeling; playful. Poe fucking Dameron always felt fucking playful.

It was insufferable.

“You say that like it wouldn’t be torturous sleeping next to me in return,” you quip quickly, trying to keep your unbothered expression.

“Oh? You a snorer? A restless sleeper?” he asked like he really couldn’t wait to find out. It was excruciating, and with every word he said that you upright ignored, you knew he was going to win this. It was only a matter of seconds until he “So!” Shit. “Whoever put up this idea, I love you. Get ready, hot-shot,” he turned to you, strolling closer until you were face to face, noses almost touching.

Maker, why did he smell so fucking good all the time?

“You’ve just found a replacement bunkmate,”

Denying Poe Dameron at the best of times was hard, even for you. So, denying Poe Dameron in this moment was instantly impossible. He had the attention of the entire room, hanging onto his every word. You had no choice but to accept the challenge, despite how much you wanted throw in the towel for this one.

A week with Dameron on the mattress below you. A week with quite possibly the worst bunkmate you’d ever had. Maker, when would it end? When would someone actually stick?

Later that night, while Dameron retrieved his belongings from his dorm, you thought back to when you’d first met him. Transferred from another Resistance base, you were the newbie for a while. Maybe things would have been different if Dameron hadn’t given you the tour, chatting away like he ran the entire place and making it obvious that he would flirt with any beautiful woman that came his way.

What made him even more indigestible was when you saw him fly.

Effortless, a true pilot. He knew the controls like the back of his hand, could perform the training circuit in his sleep; every protocol, every movement, every curve and harsh edge of the controls were engrained in his brain.

Poe wasn’t a particularly humble person, choosing a different approach that revolved around always needing to be the fucking centre of attention. That’s what made the two of you different.

You valued the quiet over a roaring celebration after missions. You studied your ship as if it were another being, not like it was something to be controlled. As soon as Dameron saw you fly the circuit, narrowly missing his personal best, his face had dropped.

He was threatened. And that’s when the hatred began for both of you.

To you, he was a self-centred, sex obsessed fiend that would do anything to remind you that you were beneath him.

To him, you were a prudish, self-righteous, goody-two-shoes who didn’t know how to put up a fight to save her life.

You’d been playing this stupid game with him since you’d landed on D’Qar; it’d been well over a year. Maybe you didn’t know how to stop, despite wanting to pack this all in sometimes when your nerves were shot. Maybe some part of you liked this back and forth with the pilot. Maybe.

The static whoosh of the door ascended, and Poe stepped in then, duffle bag over his shoulder and a succulent under his arm. He sauntered in, as if he already owned the place, while you sat at the small regulation desk, going through your data pad for the next week.

You sighed when he dropped his bag to the floor. “Good evening, Commander,” you let out, and Poe’s irritation was immediate.

“I think you secretly like calling me by my rank,” he let out, trying to conceal his mass annoyance.

“No,” you replied instantly, scrolling down on the data pad. “I just know how much you love it,” you swivelled the chair towards him, hitting his eye and giving him a sweet smile. He gave you a lazy knowing look, before squatting to the floor to unpack his belongings.

As much as you knew Poe was in this to piss you off, there was something oddly serene about your dorm an hour later. Poe laid on the bottom bunk, data pad in hand as he followed suit in remembering his itinerary for the next week. You’d never seen him so relaxed, so switched off, wearing sweatpants that draped over his hips and a tank top. His gold chain poked over the neckline.

Though, of course, Poe was a lot more slammed for time. As a Commander, he oversaw hand-to-hand training as well as getting behind the controls of an X-wing three or four times a week. He was also a conduit for cadets to get across changes they wanted. More time between missions, new parts for blasters and ships, new this, new that—

Poe listened to all of them, writing each comment down one by one to pass over to General Organa and the rest of the higher-ups. Sometimes, when you caught him looking calm and collected and understanding, you wondered why you hated his guts so much.

Until he opened his damn mouth again.

“Take a picture, baby. It’ll last longer,” he let out, upon noticing you staring at him from across the room. You kissed your teeth, leaning back in your chair.

“You just had to open your fucking mouth. For a second, I was actually admiring how thoughtful you looked,”

“Oh baby,” Poe put down his data pad, shuffling on the mattress until his bare feet pattered on the floor and his elbows leaned against his thighs. “Catching feelings?”

“In your fucking dreams,” you said harshly, scrolling onto the next page of your past mission analytics.

“Maybe that’s why you agreed to letting me sleep below you,” Poe continued, after finding another one of your buttons to press until it stopped working altogether.

“You were the one that couldn’t wait to be my roomie, asshole,” you quipped back.

“You could have refused,”

“And let you win? Fuck off,” you muttered, getting verbally more annoyed. Having more than a ten second conversation with the pilot made you want a blaster shot through your temple.

Poe sat in silent contemplation for almost a minute. He scuttled his eyes over you, tracing the line of your jaw and down your arms until he made his way back up again, his eyes in a constant squint, as if you were a circuit board he had to rewire.

You could feel his gaze all over you. It made your skin crawl. “Take a picture, baby. It’ll last longer,” you snapped, stealing the words straight from his mouth.

“You really hate me, don’t you?”

His question took you aback. You sucked in a deep breath, putting down your data pad slowly as you pondered why he’d even asked. What did he mean, don’t you? Was this him genuinely questioning your hatred, or was the oddly flirtatious way you quipped with each other confusing his tiny pea brain?

You turned your stare on him, catching his eye and staying there, as if you were frozen. You allowed yourself to analyse his gaze for a few seconds, taking in the way his shoulders slumped ever so slightly and his forehead wrinkles questioned if this was all real.

This game, this hating game—it was real, right? It wasn’t just a joke to mask how either of you felt for one another, right?

“You hate me, Dameron,” you finally said, but the words felt odd falling off your tongue. “Why shouldn’t I hate you in return?”

His reply was to sigh, before getting himself comfortable under the covers of his new bunk. He switched off the small light by the top railing and turned towards the wall, signalling he was done for the night.

When you clattered up the ladder to your own mattress, you found yourself holding your breath and moving slow, aa not to wake up the pilot. You put out your own light and stared at the ceiling, all too aware of Dameron’s presence not a meter below you.

Maker, why had you done this again? Was spending every waking minute thinking about how to get Dameron pissed off not enough, that now you had to think of him before you slept?

Before you closed your eyes, you wondered if he was still awake. And if he was, was he thinking about you?

By the third day under the same dorm room roof, the teasing had fully begun, courtesy of members of Black squadron.

Maybe Poe had been blabbing during perimeter searches, but Black squad literally couldn’t get enough of this little battle between yourself and Dameron. Your own squad, Green, didn’t seem to care much, having been fed up of you ranting about the pilot from six months in. You never really discussed him with your team anymore, and to be honest, it was nice.

It was almost like you weren’t trapped in this game with him when you were up in space, far away from D’Qar below.

“Greenie!” Black-Three hollered from their table, two away from where you sat eating lunch. “Seen Dameron’s dick yet?” she let out, prompting a childish laugh to travel around the room.

“If I do, I’ll be sure to tell you how small it is,” you replied, not really putting much effort into your response. It still garnered laughter and chuckles, but they didn’t affect you anymore.

Maker, you didn’t want to say it, you didn’t even want to think it, but since Dameron had started sleeping below you—the game didn’t feel as fun.

It felt forced. It felt fake. Since seeing the pilot be calm, collected, thoughtful, sleepy, absolutely exhausted after a draining mission, you found less enjoyment in adding more annoyance to his life. It felt like he was feeling the same, as well.

“You mean, you want to see it?” Black-Six chimed in, but you were getting to the end of your tether. There was a difference between you and Dameron playing the game and others getting involved. There was a different between one pilot ruining your day and twenty of his close colleagues also joining in.

You stood abruptly, carrying your tray to the nearest trash can and angrily throwing away the contents. “Getting worked up, Two?” Green-Two, your rank. “Did I hit the nail on the head about how you’re secretly obsessed with Dameron?”

“Maker, give it a fucking rest, Six,” you snapped quickly, turning back to the table and picking up your data pad in a huff. Six only let out a low whistle, as his team oversaw how annoyed you were getting. He stood up then, and you silently cursed the Maker. You really didn’t need this today, not when you hadn’t slept properly since Dameron’s arrival.

It was impossible to sleep when you couldn’t avoid listening to his soft breathing.

He sauntered over, standing before you and peering down at you. The fucker was, like, 6”7. You wondered how he even fit his fucking legs in an X-wing. “Know what I think? What we all think?” you swallowed as he got in your face. “Being jealous really suits you. This game you and Dameron play? It’s the only shit that keeps you relevant enough to be around him. It’s sad, if you really think about it,”

You swallowed down your heart then. You swallowed so hard that you were scared the air would bubble in your stomach and push everything up and out of your oesophagus.

Instead, you forced yourself to breathe. You’d been in this position before, you’d bit down your tiredness and your feelings and retorted to some fucker who thought he was hot shit. You could do it again.

“You know what’s really sad, Six?” you began, not backing away from the obvious way he was trying to intimidate you by peering down at you so. “That you think I’d ever let your convoluted words get to me. I stopped listening after the first word,”

If he were Dameron, you would have added a sweet smile just for effect, but it wasn’t him. The scowl on your face turned into a grimace as you stepped backwards, showing nothing but contempt and disgust for the pilot before you. The grown man before you, who’d took it upon himself to get involved in a game that he knew fuck all about.

Poe was never actually mean to you. It was like... a fake meanness. One reserved only to make you pissed off before he backed the fuck up and let you have a crack at him. It was meanness laced with subtle admiration for the other’s ability to keep fucking going, to not take the other’s bait, to quip back with the best comeback.

This? This was just straight up fuckery. This was Six trying to knock you down when you hadn’t even said two fucking words to the pilot.

You backed away further, turning around until you were strolling towards the exit of the mess hall. Black-Six was seething behind you, huffing and puffing as he thought up a reply, but you were sure he was done.

Until he wasn’t.

“No, Green-Two, I’ll tell you what the saddest fucking thing I’ve ever heard is—,” he yelled and you stopped, turning back to the pilot with a bigger frown but unbothered eyes. “This bet, where Dameron bunks with your boring ass for a week? There’s a second level to it,”

A second level? What in the Maker is he talking about?

You stayed silent, still not convinced that what he was about to say would actually mean anything to you. “Everyone here is betting on how long it’ll take you to give in and let him fuck you. Which is why it’s so fucking sad seeing you commit to this long-time hatred, when everyone knows that you love the fucking attention. You live for it. You live for this,”

Now that. That stings you. It stings so bad that you don’t really know what to feel.

It was one thing to play this game, but it was another thing to have people betting on your body.

Your nostrils flared as you tried not to succumb to the tears that were welling in your eyes. This was the first time you’d ever felt fucking dumb, the first time you’d ever wanted to run out of a room and lock yourself away.

This wasn’t a game anymore. You didn’t want to fucking play if this was what everyone fucking thought of you. You’d never cared before about what they’d thought; it was just you and Dameron, butting heads and finding something to distract yourselves from the shit storm of the war that surrounded you, but this?

No. This was cruel.

“Black-Six,” Dameron boomed from behind you, forcing you to intake a sharp breath. “Sit the fuck down,”

You turned around slowly, meeting his eye despite not wanting to ever see his pretty boy face again. His gaze hit yours, and you could see the cogs in his brain turning. He regarded you, your glassy eyes, your tense stance and the way you were gripping the data pad so tight that your knuckles were turning white. He swallowed painfully.

“Two—,”

“Get the fuck out of my room,”

You left. He didn’t try and make you stay, dropping his head to the floor and balling his fists as you shoved past him and out of the mess hall.

You paced it back to your dorm, taking long striding steps and upping your pace to sprint when the tears finally overflowed from your eyes. Was this all they gave a shit about? A bet to see if Dameron could break down your walls? To see if he could be the one to pop your base cherry? Fucking pathetic.

You knew you were above this behaviour, yet you felt idiotic for stringing the game out for this long. There had been ample opportunity for you to throw in the towel, cut it off, break it all apart, but you’d stayed. You stayed in it despite the annoyance and the fucking attention.

Why?

Why had you continued?

This game? It’s the only shit that keeps you relevant enough to be around him.

The realisation hits you like a tonne of bricks, breaking open your skull until all of the thoughts you’d pushed to the back of your brain tumble forward and all you can think is Poe Poe Poe. With his stupid curls and boyish charm and pretty by face that you indulged in every time he got in close to your own—

You threw the data pad onto your bunk as soon as you arrived in your dorm, not noticing the door whooshing down as you took to breathing in and out heavily to calm yourself down. Never had you been so humiliated in your life, let alone in this game with Dameron. You didn’t want to believe that he’d be involved in a bet as damaging as this—you wanted to believe that he didn’t hate you that much.

You slump onto his mattress, not finding the strength to climb up to ladder rungs to your own bed. As soon as you sit, sandalwood encases you. His smell, he always smelled so fucking good. You didn’t even think it was his soap; it was just Poe. And Poe smelled like fresh eucalyptus and sandalwood combined.

Were you fucked up? Fucked up for not realising that you actually didn’t hate the man that you’d been in a hating game with since day one. Were you fucked up for feeling hurt despite knowing that he’d hated you this entire time?

Secretly liking the man who hated your guts was by far the most embarrassing thing of this entire situation.

You heard his boots on the ground outside before the door even whooshed up. Poe ran inside, breathless, brow dotted with sweat, eyes a frenzy of many emotions, before he punched the control panel and the door whooshed down once more.

The room was plunged back into semi darkness, lit only by the half open port shade and the afternoon light. He didn’t lock the door, even though he always did. He didn’t lock the door because he knew you didn’t want to be around him currently.

“Two,” he started, meeting your eye as soon as you found strength to stand. He stepped forward, but you retreated immediately.

“Don’t fucking touch me,” you said strongly, hugging yourself as you backed away. Poe stuck his hands in the air, indicating he wouldn’t do whatever you didn’t want him to.

“I didn’t know, Two. I didn’t fucking know Six had set up that bet. That’s... so fucked up. It’s fucking disgraceful,” he said breathlessly, trying to fit as many words into one sentence as he could in case you cut him off.

You frowned at him, unknowing of what to reply when you could tell he was being truthful. Poe was an asshole, a cocky bastard, but he was never cruel. He wasn’t cruel to his teammates, he knew exactly what it felt like to be fighting this currently losing battle just as much as you did—

He wouldn’t make something like that up. Maker, he wouldn’t.

You clamped your eyes shut, tightening your grip on your arms as you allowed a few tear to crawl down your cheeks, flicking off from beneath your chin until they descended to the ground below. You didn’t even know why you were still crying; the shock of this, the humiliation, or the fact that you were relieved that Poe Dameron wasn’t one of these horrible people.

“Look at me, Two. Please, look at me,” he said desperately, stepping forward in trepidation as you forced your eyes open. You landed yours upon his own, noticing how glassy his were at the same time.

Was he... about to cry?

“I’m so fucking sorry. That’s unforgiveable—it’s, it’s—fucking horrible,” his voice shook as he spoke, so much so that you could see his fingers trembling as he tried to keep himself composed.

“I believe you, Dameron,” you said suddenly, not wanting him to hurt anymore. The game was never about this. “I know this wasn’t you,”

“You scared me,” he said quickly, and you hardly had time to compute his words before he kept talking. “This game—like—what are we even fucking doing anymore?”

You swallowed, loosening your grip on yourself as you felt more comfortable around him by the second. “What do you mean?” Poe stepped forward once.

“The other day I asked you if you really hated me,” he said, and you remembered it well. You remembered the look on his face that really wanted to know the truth. “You didn’t answer,”

“Yes, I did,” you replied quickly, taking a step forward yourself and finding strength once more. “I said... I said—,”

“I know what you said,” Poe continued. “You avoided the question,”

“No, I didn’t—,”

“Do you hate me, Two?” he asked again, more desperate this time. His eyes were wide as they traced your face, looking deep down for the truth that he knew was true. When you didn’t answer, he licked his lips in thought. “Because I’ve never hated you. Not once, not from the beginning or now or ever—,”

“I’m—just, wait—,” you spoke through confused swallows that scratched your throat uncomfortably. Poe took another step forward, until you were as close as you knew was normal. Nose to nose, so close that you could inhale his sandalwood scent and run your fingers through his curls if you had the nerve.

“Do you know why I keep playing this game with you?” his voice dropped to a whisper, and you had no choice but to latch onto his every word. The urge to reach out and grab hold of his fingers was overwhelming. “Because it gives me an excuse to see you every day,”

That’s when you scoffed, overwhelmed by the truth bombs he was spilling that you were sure he was joking now. “Poe—come on—,” you let out, amusement laced within your words as a disguise for how fast your heart was beating.

Poe immediately turned away, beginning to pace the room as he brought his fingers up to run through his hair. He looked pained. “Maker—you. You always think you’re fucking right,” he growled suddenly, his tone hitting some deep point in your stomach that you didn’t even know existed.

He stopped abruptly, pulling his fingers from his hair and leaving it looking wild. “You drive me fucking insane, Two. Have since you stepped off that fucking lander with your confident strides and don’t-give-a-fuck-about-anyone attitude and piloting skills that could definitely leave me in your fucking dust,” you ceased to breathe as he let everything out, each word cascading from his mouth like he’d been waiting so long to spit everything out onto a plate and hand it to you. “But you hated me, resented me, I could tell from the first moment we spoke. The way you frowned and your eyes hit me with that unbothered and uncaring stare—,”

“I don’t—,” you let out, but were mortified to hear how high pitched your voice was, cracking upon the second word. You swallowed. “I don’t hate you,”

You didn’t hate him. He was a pain in your ass, a thorn in your side, but even you couldn’t stomp down the obvious like you had for the pilot. That’s why you continued this fucked up game. That’s why you kept pushing on his buttons.

“And I don’t hate you,” Poe replied, relaxing ever so slightly as he started to calm down from his outburst. He shrugged, letting out an exhausted sigh as his arms smacked back down against his sides. “So, what the fuck are we doing?”

You were at a loss for words. “You—you were the one that kept pushing,” you let out, ignoring how badly you were whining. “Kept one-upping every bet and kept needing to win. You kept going until we got into this fucking mess and now we sleep in the same room—,”

“I made up this bet idea, Two,” he admitted.

The breath hitched in your throat. “What?” you whispered. It sounded threatening.

“Not because I wanted to see if you’d fuck me,” he added, and you knew he wasn’t lying. “I could tell that every roommate transfer was fucking you up,” he said, softer this time. “I thought if I bunked with you for a bit, then—I don’t know—you wouldn’t be as lonely. All your bunkmates left because of me in the first place,”

It all fell into place as he explained. The weird questions, the definite confirmation of him easing on the hating game reins, the absolute mind-fuck of him admitting that he’d never hated you at all.

That he likes you. That you drive him insane. That he only ever wanted to be around you, whether he had to fake hate you or not.

All his bets suddenly added up. His incessant repetition of calling you baby, his impressive flirtatious retorts that you now realised he’d wanted to say to you for real, instead of within some sadistic game.

You breathed heavily for a minute, keeping your eyes glued to the ground as silence descended over your dorm. Poe was still right in front of you, flicking his eyes around your face to gage exactly how you were feeling.

“Say something, baby,”

Baby.

You sucked in a sharp breath. Poe internally punched himself. “Shit, I’m sorry—I just blurted it out—,”

“I like it,” you said, words wobbling off your tongue clumsily. You swallowed down your nerves and suspended all your inhibitions as you caught his eye. It was surprisingly easy to switch off your anxiety when Poe Dameron was stood before you, pouring his heart onto his sleeve about the past year of interactions you’d both had. “Baby, hot-shot, sweetheart. I like them all,”

“Pretty boy,” he replied, and you couldn’t help but smile at the way he looked at you. “You’re the only person allowed to call me that,”

Your heart soared. It was a feeling you’d never fucking experienced before. Before you could say anything in return, Poe lunged towards you, wrapping you in his arms before you could object. Not that you would’ve.

You allowed him to pull you forward, encasing you in his arms until you caught his hint—he was slowly but surely lifting your feet off the ground, as his hands trailed down to your waist in an attempt to get to you to jump up onto his hips. You jumped up, wrapping your legs around his torso and squeezing him with such force until you felt his pulse radiate throughout your body.

Poe walked forward then, until your back was rested against the wall. He pulled back so you were face to face, chest to chest. You’d never seen him this up close, never felt the muscles beneath his skin.

“Poe,” you breathed out, still not used to his first name despite the few times it had slipped out of your mouth when you were annoyed. Poe smiled radiantly, his chest bobbing up and down faster as he got more worked up about what was happening.

You bit your bottom lip on instinct, and he crumbled. “Fuck,”

He smashed his lips against yours.

Immediately you were engulfed by a warmth you’d never felt. Poe held you so tightly that you had no worry of him letting go, leaving your focus to rest on the sweet taste of his lips and the raging butterflies that were destroying your gut.

He kissed you like he’d been waiting to for over a year; with a fervour and a craving that you hadn’t known possible until you felt it in the pit of your stomach now.

The line between hate and lust had well and truly collapsed in on itself, but you didn’t care. Feeling Poe’s body pressed against yours was the perfect way to end this game that you’d both played for so long.

You pulled away suddenly when you remembered something— “Does this mean we can’t have hate sex?” you breathed out. Poe’s face collapsed into a smile of epic proportions.

“You pulled away just to ask that?” he let out. You tilted your head in response, testing to see how he reacted to something so bratty. “Maker—you still piss me off, but it’s fucking hot,”

When got bored of the wall, he carried you over to his bunk, laying you down on his mattress so he could kneel over you comfortably. He had you exactly where he wanted you, hands roaming your body hungrily and skimming your breasts as you tried not to moan into his mouth.

This want, you realised, had been buried deep within you for a long time. As soon as Poe had mentioned hate sex while half-naked and pissed off, your mind had fantasied wonderful things. The dreams had been intense, and seeing the pilot from thereafter had been almost impossible to perform without slipping something out.

You’d managed though, but with every further annoyance, with every roll of his eyes, with every successful attempt at pissing him off, you felt a satisfaction that immediately had you imagining the pilot’s clothes upon your floor.

Poe pulled away then, breathing heavily as he dropped his hand to fiddle gently with the fabric of your tank top. “Can I?” he asked, and he swallowed quickly with what you knew was nerves. “This isn’t about before, fuck that bet—I just wanted to—,”

“Fuck me?” you finished his sentence in a much less gentle way. His Adam’s apple bobbed in shock, his heart rate accelerated as it pumped blood to other places.

“Saints,” he said lowly, as you raised your hand to press against his chest warmly. You started tracing your fingers over his collarbones. “You drive me fucking crazy,”

“In a good way or a bad way?”

“Both. Definitely both,”

He pulled at your clothes until you lifted your arms above your head and accepted him tugging them off. You undid your pants and slid them off while he pulled off his shirt in one tug, straight over his head. There was something about men pulling off their shirts like that made your stomach drop, but Poe doing it was enough to make you plunge your tongue in his mouth.

Spreading your legs apart, he slotted himself between them until you could feel his cock, throbbing hard beneath his pants. He wanted you, Maker, he’d wanted you since the first insult you’d fired at him. He’d wanted you since the first bet he’d ever suggested.

It tickled when his fingers hooked on the waistband of your panties. You sucked in a sudden breath at the sensation, not having felt anyone but yourself between your legs in well over a year. You tried not to worry that you were out of practice, choosing to focus on the rapid way Poe was breathing and the almost drunk way his eyes were pouring over your bare skin.

Slow, intentionally, he inched himself down your body, planting kisses on the journey until his chin hovered above your pussy. He didn’t bother taking off the panties, too excited by what was in front of him that he simply pulled them to the side and latched his mouth over your aching clit.

He moaned into you as you experienced a full body flush. The urge to push him off immediately was insurmountable, but he’d weighed himself down that you could hardly move your thighs, let alone have the strength to pull him off your pussy.

When he came up for air you could hardly move. Every muscle in your body was tensed to oblivion, praying to feel the sweet release that Poe was inching ever closer to. The way he navigated your bud was like nothing you’d experienced before, his tongue soft and welcoming, drowning you in ecstasy while he couldn’t get enough.

“Fuck,” he let out, laying gentle kisses upon the inside of your thighs as he caught his breath. “You taste... so fucking good,”

You dragged your fingers through his hair, still riding the long wave of pleasure Poe had rattled through you. It wouldn’t be long until you came undone when he got back to it. You let out a single breathy laugh. “How the fuck do you do that?”

Poe raised up once more, peering down at you, chain dangling around his neck. He donned an amused smile. “You like that?”

Yes, Maker, fucking yes.

You could only nod.

“I’ve never seen you speechless, baby,” he dipped down and placed a soft kiss against your lips. You closed your eyes, clutching his curls between your fingers as he roamed your mouth.

“You’ll find I don’t have much to say when I’m not fighting you,” you whispered breathily, shooting a challenging look at the pretty boy pilot before you.

“Pretty baby, you better conserve your energy,” he let out, dropping his mouth to your neck and pecking small bites beneath your jaw.

He tugged off his pants like he’d done it a thousand times before, bringing a hand to his cock before he plunged another longing kiss upon your lips. You didn’t move your eyes off of his when he positioned himself before you entrance, but helped by opening your legs for him willingly.

“You sure?” he asked once more. Your response was a simple nod, but it got across everything you wanted. Him, his cock, to feel him after so long not knowing. You wanted him to feel you, to know what your bodies were capable of doing together.

You were wet enough for it to slide in with no problem, and the sensation ripped a hole through your stomach. His cock found your g-spot in record time, as if he’d been made just for you and you just for him.

He stuttered and started like an X-wing engine, moaning as the veins on his forehead popped out in pleasure. “Ffffucking— baby, my fucking god,”

You mimicked his moans, not knowing how else to get across the immense pleasure you were feeling. It reverberated throughout your entire body, sending shivers of adrenaline through your limbs and making your muscles tense immensely.

He started slow, using his core to pump in and out slowly as the two of you got used to this new sensation, this feeling of being intertwined. It was impossible not to smack him when he went all the way in, so deep that you could feel his cock in your fucking stomach.

You hissed at him, pressing a hand over his heart as you winced through the indescribable feeling. He was hesitant the first time you reacted this way, stopped abruptly and asking if you were okay, only to be met with your lips grappling upon his. You inhaled him just because you could.

Now, he didn’t stop. When you let out that hiss and smacked him half-heartedly, he smiled. He smiled like he was about to make your life hell in the most delicious of ways—

He smashed down once, hard and fast, jolting you awake from mind fog of arousal that you’d been in for the past twenty minutes. Your body curled up immediately, but Poe used that to his advantage, gripping his fingers under your left knee and pushing down until it was bent into your chest.

“Nothing to say?” he asked, and you knew that tone well. That was his hating game tone, the one he’d spoken to you in for the past year, the one that triggered a fight in you like no other before; but now?

You needed him to fuck you. You needed him to fuck you so badly.

“Go and fuckyourself,” you spat, faking as much venom as you could despite feeling nothing but lust for the pilot inside you.

Poe took your bait. “I’m busy,”

Maker, he was rough. When he started, he didn’t stop. He pounded you with a ferocity that you knew he’d been wanting for a while. He’d wanted to see you like this, beneath him, broken, mouth open from the incessant moaning that you simply couldn’t contain.

He hit your g-spot each time, until an unfamiliar sensation hit you right in the gut. You thought you were going to pass out. You tensed your entire body, your toes curling as Poe’s grip stayed unmoving on your knee, keeping you in place.

As if on cue, he let out a devious laugh. “Oh baby, you’re gonna cum. I can feel it,”

You flopped an arm over your face, wanting to cover up as much of yourself as you could while this new feeling ripped through you, but Poe didn’t let you. He grabbed your arm swiftly and pinned it down above your head, exposing your wobbling breasts, the radiant heat from your cheeks, the drunk look in your eyes that was only building every time he thrust deep inside you.

“You want to, don’t you?” he said again, ramming his cock into you once more and relishing in the delirious way you tensed and squirmed.

“Shut—up,” you stuttered out, and Poe dropped down to your lips.

“You want me to stop?” he asked threateningly. “You want me to stop fucking you, baby?”

You had to dig deep to find the strength to say the words. “No— fuck no—,”

You sucked in another breath as Poe picked up the pace, repositioning his entire body to gain more momentum. This was the final stretch before the race was over, you knew it, as the arousal in your stomach began to spread until you were sure it would overflow.

Gripping onto Poe’s thighs, you kept him flush to your pussy. It only served to make him more restless, prompting him to pound you until you were sure his back was going to crack from the force.

“Come for me,” he let out, and his voice alone was enough to tip you over the edge. You stopped breathing before it was all released, before a wave of buzzing energy the size of the oceans of Kamino bombarded through your entire body.

You think your eyes roll back, because all of a sudden you can’t see. But you can feel Poe’s lips on yours, you can hear his moans as he comes undone at the same time as you do, you can feel his chest losing power as his limbs go jelloid and he falls on you, absolutely exhausted.

Catching your breath had never felt so good. Poe’s full bodyweight on yours, with your arms wrapped around his neck and his strong breathing tickling your neck had never felt so needed. This was a different kind of intimacy that you’d never expected to perform with the pilot.

And Maker, you hoped this wasn’t the only time.

It was a good ten minutes before either of you had the strength to sit up, but when you did Poe was on hand to help you with everything. He grabbed the closest item of clothing he could, one of his winter jumpers, and shoved it over your head gently.

His fingers were soft as he helped you dress yourself, helped you clean yourself up, helped you strip the sheets from his bed. All the while, his soft and relaxed breaths tickled your skin and offered you comfort.

When all was done, the two of you slumped down on Poe’s bunk. The pilot spread himself and gestured for you to lay upon his chest. Still tired, you scoffed.

“Is this going to become a thing?” you questioned jokingly.

Poe huffed. “Only if you want it to, baby,”

You leant back into him, so much so that he laid his other hand to lay upon your belly. The two of you relaxed into a comfortable conversation that was so far from what you used to speak like. You spoke about life, you spoke about the actions you’d both just performed, you spoke about the bets.

“No more bets,” Poe proposed. You nodded once, smiling as you leant your head back and looked up at him, upside-down.

“No more bets,” you agreed.

“More sex though?”

You smacked him once.

That meant yes.

[oohnoniall]

Bonding [Niall Horan x Reader]

            The thing stared up at them, warning them from coming near it. Its big, brown eyes seemed to be glaring into their very souls. With a sharp beak and those glaring eyes it made a terrifying predator that neither wanted to deal with. Yet the bright pink fur that covered the body of the furry little creature made her want to hold it and play with it.

“What are we naming it?” She questioned her best friend.

            “I don’t know. Probably something like Moonflesh or Cynthia the Devourer of Souls.” He said with a shrug of his shoulders. “They’re kind of like those names on tumblr.”

            “God, we can’t even come up with a good name!” She sank down into the seat beside her sewing machine.

            Niall had brought up the idea of getting Furbies about a month ago. She had one upped him. They had bought the Furby two weeks before, it had just come in the mail two days prior. She had made sure to procure the necessary equipment in order to create the hellbeast known as a Long Furby.

            Needless to say they hadn’t slept in days, too busy sketching up designs and arguing over what the damn thing should look like. They’d also spent ample amounts of time trying to figure out who would own the cute little guy once it was complete.

            “Hand me the scissors,” Niall said as he sat down across from her. The two were in her living room. It was small, cramped and smelled like her favorite pecan pie candle. It didn’t matter what time of year it was she was always burning that damned candle. Niall often wondered how she had so many of them. But he wouldn’t put it past her to stock up on the damn things during fall.

            She had brought as many lamps as she could into her living room, cramping the already cramped space. She had made sure they would have plenty of light. Although she had kept the curtains closed as she had told him it would be easier for her to see what she was doing with a constant light source instead of one that was constantly changing. Niall had just assumed she didn’t want anyone able to see what they were doing to a children’s toy.

            She handed him the scissors. As she did he couldn’t help but notice that she held a needle between her lips. He was somewhat worried that she would end up accidentally swallowing it. With a lack of sleep and her normal accident-prone self he was certain that she would do something stupid.

            “Careful with that,” he stated as he began to make a cut along the seam of the Furby.

            She did not say anything, instead just flipped him off. It was obvious that she wasn’t in the mood for him teasing her like that. She never was. He just always found it rather amusing.

            The two worked in silence, Niall cutting the Furby into small pieces and making sure to be careful of the electronic elements and the face plate. He was certain that if he even scrapped the eye with the blade of the scissors, she would kill him. He wouldn’t even feel bad about it. She would have every right. They had been looking forward to this for weeks now.

            Making bad decisions was the height of their friendship.

            “That’s starting to look good,” she said as she began to trace some lines in chalk on what would be the body of their Long Furby.

            He looked up from what he was doing, the face plate had just fallen into his palm. “What does?”

            “The demon eyes that are staring up from your hand.” She gestured once towards the face plate in his hands. “Seriously, I’m going to have nightmares about that for months.”

            He would have been offended had she not started to giggle afterwards. A bright grin spread across his face. “Oh yeah? I’m gonna have nightmares about the faceless Furby.”

            The two looked each other in the eyes for approximately ten seconds before they both began to laugh about the whole thing.

            “Hand me the spine,” Niall said after his laughter had subsided. She continued to giggle as she handed over the long, five foot spine. He had joked that the Furby was going to be taller than she was. She had told him to fuck off.

            As Niall glued the face plate to the spine, she began to sew the panels of the back together.

            Once the two had finished their prospective tasks they decided to call it a night.

            “Are you bunking over?” She questioned as she walked back into the living room. She had disappeared into the kitchen five minutes before. He’d listened as she made several clanging noises and had cried out when she stubbed her toe.

            “Might as well,” he said as she handed him a beer. He gave her a grin as he popped the cap. “Thanks.”

            “Don’t mention it. Do you want some dinner? I have literally nothing in my fridge but I do have pizza coupons,” she sank into her recliner in a cross-legged position.

            “We really have to talk about your food habits.” He shook his head once as she took her phone off the coffee table. She paid him no attention as she began to order their usual.

            Sleepovers had been a near constant thing when the two had been growing up. They had both assumed they would be over after his time on the X-Factor. Then they had thought it would change after they grew up. It hadn’t. They were still the same people that they had been when they were kids. Best friends who were unable to be away from each other for long.

            Niall had always appreciated her friendship. She had always been certain that he was going to be by her side forever. This was just another reason why they had decided to make this stupid thing. It was going to be a long, hard task but it was worth it to spend some time with each other.

            The pair soon ate their pizza, talking and joking about whatever they possibly could. Niall ended up passing out on her sofa while she texted some guy that she was interested in. Niall hadn’t thought he was good enough but he didn’t think any of the guys she was interested in were good enough for her. He just hadn’t told her about it.

                        The morning light hit him in the face, causing him to blink twice as he began to wake up. He wasn’t sure what had led her to opening up the curtains but he was happy to see the sunlight. He looked over, ignoring the crick in his neck as he did so. She was sitting at the sewing machine, finishing up the panels and sewing it onto the headpiece.

            The sunlight glinted off of her hair, turning it almost golden in the light. He had never actually seen her in this lighting before. He’d never seen her so focused on something before. He knew that her work ethic was one of the most amazing things about her but he’d never actually seen her in the midst of things. His experience with her work ethic was her telling him to stop sending her messages as she was working on homework.

            She didn’t notice him for a while. Instead, he had enough time to just watch as she worked. He had enough time to take in the way she moved, the way she breathed. He’d never noticed just how beautiful she was. He’d never noticed the way her hair fell over her shoulder, hiding part of her face as she worked. He had never noticed the crinkle by her eyes and the way she would chew on her lip while she concentrated.

            God, he wished that he had noticed it before.

            He cleared his throat once as he stood up from her sofa. She jumped slightly, turning her head to look at him as he slid on his jacket.

            “Uh, I’m going for coffee. You want anything?”

            “Yeah, can you get me my usual?” She pushed the hair that had hidden her face behind her ear. His stomach flipped wildly and he wondered why he had never noticed the way she smiled at him before.

            He figured this whole thing was because they’d been staying in close quarters for the past few days. This damned Furby was changing their relationship. He wasn’t sure if that was a good thing or not.

            “Yeah, course,” his accent was gruffer than normal. He didn’t say more as he left her apartment. His thoughts were running wild as he walked the three blocks down to the nearest coffee shop. It was a local place that they’d been going to since they’d moved to London. He was certain that it was the best coffee in the world. However, he was not thinking about the robust dark roast. Instead, he was thinking seriously about the way she had looked in her pajamas working on their Furby son.

            He was a mess.

            It took Niall about twenty minutes to get their coffees and head back to the apartment. He wasn’t sure if he was going to say anything about his current feelings and the wild thoughts that he was having.

            “You’re a lifesaver, Horan,” she stated as he handed her the coffee. She took a sip of it, a look of pure bliss crossing her features.

            “Yeah, I know it,” he winked at her before he sat down on the sofa. “Did you get any sleep last night?”

            “Uh,” he shook his head slightly as he heard her. Of course, she hadn’t.

            “Let me guess, you were too preoccupied with the Furby thing?” Niall questioned, grabbing the open bag of polyfill from where it sat on the recliner.

            “You know me far too well.” She stated as she brought the Furby’s body over to the sofa. She sat beside him, moving to rest her legs on his lap. It was a normal action, but it made him pause for just a moment. If only because he had not been expecting her to act so normal.

            “If I didn’t no one would ever yell at you for your sleep habits.” As he spoke the two began to fill the Furby with the polyfill, making sure to make it as huggable as possible.

            The two worked in silence, which was broken occasionally when she yawned. He was concerned that she wasn’t getting enough sleep but he also knew that she wouldn’t sleep until she was damn well ready. That was one of the many things that he loved about her.

            She began to stitch the bottom of the Furby, closing it up and making sure that none of the stuffing would fall from their adorable little monster.

            “Just like that, we’ve created a hellbeast.” He said with a light laugh, looking over at her for a moment.

            “Cynthia the Devourer of Souls,” she said sleepily.

            Niall looked over at her, watching as her eyes fluttered for a moment. He took his jacket from where it laid over the arm of the couch, laying it across her shoulders. “Get some sleep. We can celebrate later.”

            Without thinking about it, he leaned over and kissed her forehead. He wouldn’t say a word about his feelings or the thoughts that he had been having about her. Their friendship meant more than anything to him.

            It was why he had brought up the idea of the Long Furby. It was a bonding experience. One that they had both needed.

[fromcrossroadstoking]

Roe and the Christmas Miracle

Part 10 (the final part!) of Welcome to the 5061st

**I`m not the greatest writer and this isn`t exactly the most popular AU, so please know that if you have ever reblogged, commented, or liked any part of this, it has meant the absolute world to me and I love you for it. Thank you so much for reading this 💙💙💙**

Tags: @gottapenny @itisjustmethistime @indigosandviolets @scarecrowmax 

-------------

December 24th, 1000

Mistletoe hung in every doorway of every tent and every building of the entire 5061st. No one was entirely sure who was responsible for the mistletoe invasion (although smart money was on Luz) but plenty of people were taking full advantage of the new decorations. Needless to say kissing was at an all time high in the unit, not that anyone was complaining. Nurses, doctors, medics, regular Army, hell, even the MPs, were getting in on the fun. Even Liebgott and Grant managed to have plenty of fun under the mistletoe while no one was looking. Roe knew that for a fact. Because he had caught them. More than once.

Roe, himself, had politely avoided all full on kisses in favor of cheek kisses. Not that he was a prude, it was just that there was only one person in the entire MASH he cared to kiss and it happened to be the one person he hadn't managed to catch under mistletoe yet.

But besides that frustrating development, things were going surprisingly well at the 5061st. It had been almost a full 24 hours since they last had a patient. It was damn near unheard of.

December 24th, 1030

Another development at the 5061st was the arrival of Saint Luz. That morning, Luz had donned a Santa hat and started going around with an Army duffel full of gifts, quickly earning himself a new nickname. Everyone got something from the newly dubbed Saint Luz.

Winters got a fancy pen.

Grant got a kitchen knife.

Talbert got a deck of cards.

Liebgott got a Flash Gordon comic book.

Sisk got a new wrench and screwdriver.

And so it went - each gift small, but unexpected and deeply appreciated.

Someone pointed out that he was a day early on the gifts to which Luz happily responded that they had all been such good boys and girls that they had earned early gifts. (Roe suspected Luz was also taking advantage of the lull in patients - who knew how long that would last.)

Roe watched in amusement as Luz made his way around the camp giving out gifts with a cheerfulness that seemed to light up the whole place. He started to get fidgety waiting for his turn.

"Gene, you playin' or what?"

"Yeah, yeah, sorry Ralph. Just thinkin'"

Roe`s eyes darted over the chess board, trying to figure out his next move.

December 24th, 1045

Spina absolutely crushed Roe at chess that round. Not that it was surprising, given how distracted Roe was.

After the game ended, Roe stretched out on his cot and picked up a book from the crate turned nightstand of sorts next to him. Out of the corner of his eye, he could see Spina staring at the door, face pulled into a frown.

"You okay?"

"Yeah, I`m alright. It`s just... it seems too quiet, ya know?"

Roe`s mouth twitched down into a small frown too as he thought about what Spina was saying. Not having a single patient of any sort was a bit unnerving in a way. But why look a gift horse in the mouth?

"Anyway, I`m gonna hit the showers."

"Good, you stink."

"Jerk," Spina playfully tossed a dirty sock at Roe, "How`s that for stinky?"

December 24th, 1100

Roe was sitting cross legged on the floor next to his cot when Spina returned from the showers.

"The hell you doin'?"

"Nothin'"

"Nothin'?? You`re feedin' carrots to somethin' under your cot!"

"Guess, that`s what I`m doin' then."

"Gene..." At the hint of exasperation in his voice, Roe looked up at his friend.

"It`s a bunny."

"Shit, is it Scruffy? The hell`s it doin' under your cot?"

"Ain`t Scruffy an' I`m hidin' him so Luz don`t see him before Christmas."

Roe had turned back to keep feeding the bunny but he could feel Spina`s eyes on the back of his neck.

"Are you two...?"

"No," Roe prayed that his cheeks weren`t turning as red as they felt, "we ain`t."

"You two still aren`t?! Jesus, Gene, the way you two flirt like two goddamn little school girls -"

"Ralph."

"Really, Gene, the hell`s takin' so long?"

Roe didn`t have an answer for that because, really, what was taking so long?

December 24th, 1630

It wasn't until right before dinner that Roe spotted Luz making his way toward his tent. Roe was perched on the edge of his bed, waiting. As soon as Luz opened the door, Roe was up in a flash. Roe grabbed Luz by the front of his jacket and slammed his mouth against Luz`s before he could say a word.

When he finally pulled away and let go of Luz`s jacket, Luz stood there speechless.

"Mistletoe," it was all Gene could get out at the moment. They both looked up at the mistletoe hanging above their heads.

"Oh."

"Mhmm."

"Well," Luz chewed on his bottom lip, "I am still standing under the mistletoe and, uh, I think that means you should still be kissing me."

Roe smirked a bit as his fingers once again curled in to the front of Luz`s jacket, pulling him closer, "Think you might be right."

December 25th, 0700

"Ralph? Hey, Ralph. Come on, get up."

Some days trying to get Spina up was the hardest thing Roe had to do. Spina slept like the dead (there had been a few times Roe had actually checked for a pulse). Thankfully, today Spina got up without too much prodding.

"Alright, I`m up, I`m up. What time is it?"

"It`s Christmas."

"That ain`t a time."

"Ralph."

Spina finally sat up. He reached out and ruffled Roe`s hair, "Just kiddin' Gene. I know what day it is. Merry Christmas bud."

Spina reached in to the trunk beside his bed and pulled out a small present, offering it to Roe. Roe smiled and produced Spina`s present from behind him. Neither of them could rip into the presents fast enough.

Spina gaped slightly as he unwrapped a hand-carved wooden frame with a picture he hadn`t seen before of his wife and daughter inside.

"Made it myself. An' I wrote an' asked 'em to send a picture that you didn`t have yet."

"Jesus, Gene, I..." Spina felt himself choking up and he swallowed hard, "I love it Gene."

Roe couldn`t help but feel a little proud at Spina`s reaction.

Turning his attention to the present in his hands, he finished unwrapping what Spina had got him. What he unwrapped was a book of Cajun folktales. A memory surfaced of him telling Spina briefly several months ago about how his grandma used to tell him all these stories when he was a kid and how he wished he could remember them better. It had been a small moment, but apparently Spina hadn`t forgotten it. Tearing his eyes away from his new book, he looked up at his best friend with a giant smile.

"Thanks Ralph," Roe squeezed Spina in a tight hug. 

December 25th, 0730

Roe had one other present to give today. He made his way to the 5061st`s headquarters where Luz both worked and bunked. He was happy to find Luz was already wide awake, sitting on the edge of the bed, lacing up his boots.

"Merry Christmas George!"

Luz hopped up from the bed with a grin to kiss Roe, "Merry Christmas Gene." As he went to kiss Roe again, Roe moved back, "Hold on. Present first. Close your eyes."

Luz did as he was told, butterflies in his stomach as he thought about what on earth Roe could have gotten him.

"Alright. Open 'em."

Luz opened his eyes to see Roe holding out a cage to him. A cage that contained a bunny.

"I know it ain`t Scruffy but I thought you might like a new bunny."

"Gene! I love him!" The thousand watt smile on Luz`s face made Roe`s heart melt.

December 25th, 2100

Another day came and went without a single patient. It was highly unusual but it was hardly mentioned by anyone in the 5061st. Perhaps they were all afraid of jinxing such a streak of luck, especially at Christmastime. And now night had arrived and with it, the 5061st`s Big Christmas Extravaganza.

Everyone was crowded in to the mess tent which had been decorated with balloons and streamers - none of which were Christmas colors but during the Korean War, you work with what you can get. Grant and Talbert managed to make a cake - a cake! Everyone was wearing homemade party hats. There was music and dancing and lots and lots of alcohol. It was a real, honest to god, party.

Spina, who had already had a few drinks, was bear hugging everyone in sight. He had already squeezed Roe so hard a couple of times that Roe thought his lungs would burst. Sisk was having trouble standing up already. Liebgott, who had declared several times that he didn`t "celebrate this shit", also declared he was still up for a party and if everyone else was getting drunk, then dammit, he was too. Babe was attempting some kind of dance on top of a table and Talbert was egging him on (Roe was almost willing to put money on Babe being the first casualty of the night). Even Nixon from I Corp had showed up. He and Winters were laughing about something over in the corner.

Luz, of course, was fully in his element. He was the life of the party, cracking jokes, starting sing-alongs, making sure everyone had drinks. Good ol' Saint Luz - effortlessly making sure everyone was having a good time. 

Roe was damn near entranced watching Luz make his way around the room and when Luz`s path finally crossed Roe`s, Roe simply couldn`t keep himself from reaching out and pulling him closer.

December 25th, 2358

"You realize that once that clock strikes midnight, we`ll have had no wounded for 3 days? 3 days! It`ll be a goddamn Christmas miracle!"

At Spina`s proclamation, all the eyes in the room locked on to the clock`s hands, watching with bated breath as the hands steadily counted down the last minute until their official miracle. Many, if not all of them, stood there with a small knot of worry in their stomachs that at the very last second a chopper or ambulance would come racing in and ruin their precious moment.

Roe was almost positive that two minutes had never passed so slowly. But they passed. And without incident.

As the clock struck midnight, cheers erupted all around. The 5061st had just experienced a certifiable miracle and they were about to celebrate the hell out of it.

In the midst of all the noise and excitement, Roe managed to pull Luz outside. With Luz`s hand clutched firmly in his own, he led Luz to a quiet spot just behind his own tent.

Stopping in his tracks, he turned towards Luz and smiled, "George."

"Gene." Luz returned the smile.

Roe moved closer to Luz, the distance between them shrinking to mere inches. "Or should I be callin' you Saint Luz?"

Luz`s bright eyes peered up at Roe, "I`m not always such a saint, you know."

"Well then, Saint Luz," Roe leaned forward and pressed quick hungry kisses to Luz`s lips as he began to lead him in to his tent, "Let`s see how un-saintly you can be."

[eurusholmmes]

angel || p.d.

Requested by @valeriariosarevalo

Prompt:  Hi!!! I saw that your request are open. Could you do a one-shot/ imagine with Poe in the last Jedi where reader is Leia’s daughter and they’re married and the reader is pregnant and Poe is just really overprotective of her. Thanks?

The only thing I changed about this fic was that it’s not taking place in the Last Jedi. I can’t write fics for this movie yet because I don’t have a solid grasp on the plot, and not everyone has seen it. Come Wednesday, I will begin writing TLJ fics for you guys. 

I GOT CARRIED AWAY WITH THIS SO BEWARE IT IS INSANELY LONG 

I was SO tempted to turn this into a Christmas oneshot.. but why not just go for a crap ton of fluff. I hope you guys enjoy! This is mainly composed of snippets: Ex - First meeting, first date, proposal, marriage.. pregnancy. well, you’ll see. 

REMEMBER: Feedback is critical to keep writers writing. Please.. tell me something. Anything goes! I promise I don’t bite! 

 Age 6

Night had long since fallen upon the Resistance base, and from where you slept in the quarters you shared with your family tightly nestled under a pile of blankets, you slept on. It had been a long day of training with your mother on the schematics of TIE fighters and other cruisers, and as soon as your father had ushered you to bed, you were out like a light. 

Your older brother Ben crept along the labyrinth of hallways that lead to the Solo-Organa Quarters. Most of the crew members of the Resistance base were fast asleep in preparations for early shifts, while his mother and uncle were reuniting for the first time since Luke had taken him away for his training to be a Jedi. He was anxious to see his baby sister, but the moment he saw the familiar raven curls of young Poe Dameron, he knew that you’d be more eager to see the son of Kes Dameron then himself. 

  “Y/n!” He hissed, peering through the door of the familiar quarters to see you tightly nestled into a pile of blankets on the bottom bunk, surrounded by stuffed Wookies and even a makeshift Yoda that Luke had given to you upon your birth. “Force, y/n.. Wake up!” 

You shrieked as the pile of blankets was ripped away from you, slowly opening your eyes and grinning widely at the familiar form of your older brother. “Ben!” You cried, extending your arms in greeting to the eldest Solo child as he took you into his embrace. “That was a mean way to wake me up..” 

  “Well, I thought you’d be interested in knowing that Uncle Luke and I just returned home from the Temple.” He whispered in your ear as he wrapped his arms tightly around your waist, sighing as you buried your face in the crook of his neck. The love you felt for him was a constant in his life - A reassurance that someone out there still cared for him. “And when we landed, I may or may not have seen Poe.” 

You wrenched yourself out of his grasps and sprinted through the base without a second thought as to how you were most likely going to be punished for getting out of bed, but you didn’t care. As long as you got to see your best friend. 

It was Ben’s fault for waking you up anyway.

That day also happened to be the same day where Poe had given you an official nickname. Angel. Whether or not it was because you were pretty or you were in fact Poe Damerons guardian angel, you weren’t sure. 

He’d tell you at some point, right? 

Age 16

  “How am I supposed to just ask her?” Poe wailed dramatically, burying his face in his hands as Leia Organa quietly ate across from him. It was nearing the end of the lunch rounds in the mess-hall, and you had yet to return from your afternoon meditation in what you liked to call The Jedi Temple My Brother Didn’t Burn To The Ground. “This is way too hard!” 

  “Poe, honey.. You have got to take a chill pill.” Leia coaxed. She knew you as well as she had known Ben, both before and after he had turned, and somewhere deep in her heart Leia knew that you would say yes to his inquiry of a date without a second thought. “You two have been best friends for years. I’ve known for a long time that you love her-” 

The statement made him blanch, and Leia couldn’t help but laugh as she stared at the wide eyed, flabbergasted teenage boy. “Love?!” He hissed, almost as if he didn’t want anyone else to hear him. “What-” 

  “Call it a mother’s intuition, dear one.” 

Poe ran a shaking hand through his hair as you finally emerged through the mess-hall doors, a sheen of sweat covering your forehead and your lightsaber clipped to your tunic as you snatched the bag that your mother always set by the door for when you were late. “Thank my lucky stars, Poe!” You exclaimed, grinning widely when he flashed you that signature smile that never failed to make your heart flutter. With his olive skin and stunning eyes that always seemed to be adoring you from afar, you would’ve been lying if you said you hadn’t developed feelings for your best friend. “Do you wanna see what I was doing during all that time I hid from you?” 

He quirked an eyebrow as you took a seat across from him, completely oblivious to the fact that Leia had somehow managed to leave before you had noticed her presence. “I don’t know.” He drawled, smirking as you ripped open the paper bag to reveal her infamous casserole and brownies she always made as a job well done for your success in training with the Force. By yourself. “I always had this suspicion you were off hanging with someone better looking then myself-” 

  “Sunshine,” You interjected, outstretching a hand before you could control yourself to play with the ends of his curls. Poe felt his breathing hitch in his chest as the laughter died between the two of you, your fingers grazing the side of his face as he found himself visibly frozen by your touch. “There’s no one better looking then you.” 

Leave it to him to be completely tongue-tied in front of the Generals daughter. 

  “Will you go out with me, Angel?” 

Needless to say that you ended the day safely tucked in Poe’s X-Wing, his arms loosely wrapped around your waist and face buried in your hair as you were lost amidst a sea of stars. 

Age 20 

Proposing. It can’t be that hard.. can it? Concoct some sentimental, romantic speech amidst a beautiful setting, kneel on one knee, present a ring. Boom. It was that easy. 

So why was Poe in the midst of nearly giving himself a coronary over the thought of proposing to you? He was Poe Dameron, the best pilot in the Resistance, and the 4 years running boyfriend of Y/n Organa - The Generals second in command and one of three living Jedi in the entire galaxy. 

Force.. He had a serious expectation to live up to. You weren’t just some girl who had crossed his path and only slept with him for sex.. You were y/n. His angel, and the woman he loved more then anything in the entire galaxy. 

Lucky enough for him, the base they’d moved to upon her twentieth birthday had just received its first new fallen snow in the time they had been there. It just so happened that Winter was your favorite season, and you nearly went giddy with excitement every single time you came face to face with land blanketed by it.

So of course, he enlisted the help of his most trusted friends from the Black Squadron and set to work on winning your heart with the sappiest proposal ever. 

By the time you had emerged from your new training room with Jessika Pava, you were soaked in sweat and grinning so widely she was sure that your face would remain that way. “If I didn’t know any better, I would have assumed that you just got the best lay of your-” 

  “Jessika.” You groaned out of annoyance, completely missing her victory dance as you trudged through the hangar to the halls that interconnected the living quarters. “I’m going to sleep!! Goodnight you-” 

  “NO!” You gasped as she lunged at you from behind and knocked your lightsaber completely from your grasps, simultaneously knocking the air from your lungs as you collided with the cold floors. “No-I mean, you can’t! You still owe me that drink from Christmas, remember?! When I said that Poe wouldn’t make out with you in front of the entire-” 

  “In front of the entire base, and he did?” You questioned, gasping as she pried herself away from you and dusted off her Resistance uniform. “My mother had a fit when I got home that night. Said it was unlady like to make out with your boyfriend in front of all his friends.” 

  “Didn’t she do that with your father a billion times? In front of your Uncle and the Republic’s highest ranking officers?” Your face slowly broke into a vicious grin as you remembered the story that your father Han had finally told you on your sixteenth birthday. You would never forget how hard the two of you had laughed on the couch that night, how it had finally pulled you both out of your grief over losing Ben and Luke. 

  “Only a billion times. Maybe that’s why my uncle went into hiding and inevitably became a hermit.” You jabbed your thumb into the keypad and gaped at the sight that greeted you in your apartment - or more particularly, the steaming shower and new outfit that hung on the door. “What is this?” 

  “You’ve got an hour to get ready, Organa! Meet me out here when you’re done!” 

After an hour of painstaking work to make yourself look presentable, you slipped on your knee high winter boots despite your confusion and took one last glance in the mirror. If this was Poe’s inconspicuous way of getting you ready for a date, then you had to accompany it by wearing the only lipstick you’d ever seen make a mans knees go weak. 

   “Jess? Do I get my re-” You huffed a sigh of annoyance at the sight of an empty hallway before your eyes fell on a notecard that had fluttered to the floor upon you opening the door to your quarters. Just as you had suspected, your name was legibly scrawled in what could’ve only been Poes immaculate handwriting. “Oh Dameron.. what have you got planned for me today?” 

Dearest Y/n... 

What was that favorite poem you used to read to me about two people who fell in love? I think it went a little something like this... 

“Two things I’ll forever be sure of. The sun will always fall for the moon, and I will always fall for you.” 

Follow the rose petals to the front door of the base, angel. Then meet me outside for the time of your life. 

Yours, 

Poe

After a trail of rose petals and grinning pilots, you found yourself just outside the front door of the base, gazing upon the winter in all its majesty. Your y/e/c softened at the contrast between the evergreens that made up the forest around you against the snow, shivering beneath your sweater and scarf as you trekked through in hopes of finding your boyfriend. 

  “There she is!” Poe cried, sprinting towards you with BB8 on his heels; The droid seemed less then pleased that he was having to roll through snow just to appease to his makers wishes. “You look.. Wow. I sure do pick ‘em.” Grinning widely, you lightly kissed his lips before turning to gaze at the frozen lake behind you. 

  “This place is beautiful.” You whispered, hands resting on his neck as the two of you intently stared into one anothers eyes. “Why have I never been here before?” 

Poe inhaled deeply and pried himself away from the familiarity of your body, his trembling hands reaching into his pocket where he’d tucked the velvet box away earlier that morning. “Because it’s never been important until now, y/n.” He replied, grinning as he knelt to one knee and opened it to you. It was a simple yet stunning band, with a sapphire neatly tucked in the center and two diamonds parallel to either side of the gem. “I’ve been thinking about how to do this for months but I was so kriffing afraid-” 

You couldn’t help the tears falling down your face  at the sight of him. Poe Dameron - Your best friend, your rock, the love of your life kneeling in the snow despite how cold it was; The tip of his nose reddened by the blistering wind, and all for a proposal. “Poe-” 

  ‘’But then I said to myself, who cares? Y/n isn’t fond of big romantic acts, so I’ll settle for being me.” He lifted his eyes to gaze upon your face; Your y/e/c staring so deeply back into his own, hand plastered over your mouth to silence your sobs as you waited for him to continue. “We’ve been best friends since we were kids, and it wasn’t until we were 16 that I finally realized how head over heels I was in love with you. Stubborn, hard headed, grieving y/n Organa who came to me in her most trialing times, and I to her upon the loss of my parents. I knew from the minute you said yes to our first date and how fascinated you were by the stars that I was gonna marry you. My angel..” Poe swept his hand over his face to wipe away the wetness gathering on his cheekbones, cursing under his breath as he saw Leia and Jessika duck behind the nearest tree, camera poised in hand. “I adore you. I adore all of you.. I love you, I am loving you until the day I say farewell or death takes me first. Every inch, every broken piece of your being is craving to be loved... and there’s nothing else I’d rather do for the rest of my life then make you the happiest woman in the galaxy. Y/n Solo-Organa, will you marry me?” 

  “Yes.” 

Age 22

Unfortunately, the impending war against the First Order kept you from having the wedding that both you and Poe wanted, but you didn’t care. With your mother as your witness, you and Poe Dameron were married within the week of Star Killer Base being destroyed, and life was good. It was peaceful.

It got even better when you found yourself staring at the II signs of your third pregnancy test. Rey had gone off to rescue Luke from the island, you had only just returned from battling your brother alongside the scavenger, and you were exhausted. 

But the sight of those two lines, the confirmation that you were indeed carrying Poe Damerons baby, turned your exhaustion into this exhilarating feeling that coursed through your veins until you were sprinting through the base, crying out “Sorry!” every time you nearly crashed into another pilot or staff member.

As your feet skidded to a stop in the back of the hangar, you were greeted with the sight of your husband on his X-Wing performing maintenance work after his latest mission. “Poe!” 

BB8 extended his only appendage in his wiring that worked as an arm, pricking his masters skin with an electrical shock to pull him from his trance, followed by a slew of irritable beeps. “Geez!” Poe cried out, lightly smacking the droid as he tightened his grip on the wing. “BB8, can you-” His eyes fell upon you directly beneath him, eagerly rocking on the balls of your feet as you waved the white stick upwards. “Are you-” 

  “This is my third one, and all three are positive!” 

He jumped down from the ship without a second thought, joyous laughter breaking past his lips as you jumped into his arms and hooked your legs around his waist. Rumors had been circulating around the base that you were anticipating the results of a pregnancy test, thus putting you under strict orders from your mother that you were not to do anything until you had a confirmation. 

  “We-We’re gonna be parents!” Poe cried out, setting you back on the ground and peppering your face with kisses as other pilots awkwardly swerved around you. “Hey-Guess what?” You grinned widely as you clung to his arm, taking note of the pride in his expression as he flaunted his new found fatherhood to his subordinates. “I’m gonna be a dad!” 

  “The best freakin’ pilot dad the Resistance has ever seen!” 

Poes head snapped over to you as his hand subconsciously shifted to your waist, forehead pressing against your own as you tangled your fingers in his hair. “You’re going to be the sexiest Jedi Mama in the galaxy, angel.” He whispered, grinning widely as your eyes lit up at the nickname. 

  “I’m gonna hold you to that.” 

  “You better.” 

Age 23 

And now here you were, less then two months away from the birth of your daughter, and Poe was being more irritating then usual. Despite his reluctance to allow you to collect data on the First Order and manipulate the Force Bond that had been created between you and your brother, you were insistent on doing something other then lounging around all day. 

  “No!” You snapped angrily, storming out of your quarters as fast as you possibly could and down the hall to the control room where you were sure your mother was waiting for your answer to her inquiry. “I can at least gather data and talk to Kylo, Poe! You don’t.. You don’t know my brother like I do. There is still good in him!” 

  “He’s a snake! A First Order snake with no good intentions other then saving his own skin!” Poe cast an exasperated glance at Leia as you moved past the other pilots and sat down in her chair, leaning your head backward for her to run her fingers through your hair. “Leia, can you give me a hand here? Your daughter won’t listen to me!” 

  “She’s got her fathers stubbornness, Dameron. I warned you about this years ago.” Leia winked at your husband before bending her head downward to softly brush her lips against your forehead, sending a wave of ease through your aching body. “Go easy on him y/n.. Your hormones are raging and all he wants to do is keep you safe.” 

You exhaled deeply and tilted your head back up to meet the concerned gaze of the man you loved, who then took it upon himself to part your knees and kneel between them. He placed his calloused hands over the growing swell of your stomach before resting his forehead against your baby’s home. “You know all I want to do is keep my girls safe. That’s all I’ve ever wanted to do.” You tucked a stray curl behind his ear as he brought his gaze up to meet your own; Y/e/c shining with an unspoken adoration and deeply rooted love for the man you had known your entire life. “Just.. for my sanity, stay near your mother, okay? Be careful when talking to Kylo. He may be Astrids uncle, but we’re not letting him near her until we are sure-” 

You pressed your fingers against his lips as the smile died on your face. “You’ve got a galaxy to save, Dameron.” You chided, softly kissing the corner of his mouth. “And just so you know, we’re not naming her Astrid. That’s almost like naming your child after a pet Bantha.” 

Poe turned around to gaze at your form as pilots rushed past him to return to their stations, but he didn’t dare move a muscle as he drank you in. Y/n Organa Dameron - His best friend, the mother to his child, the only woman he loved. His angel. You were the most beautiful creation in the galaxy, and he made sure that you knew it every single time he looked at you like nothing else in that moment mattered.

To say you were stunned at his next statement would’ve made you seem like a total sap. “What about Padme?” 

You ran your hands over your stomach as you were greeted with a memory - A single picture of a field on Naboo that your mother had shown you so long ago; Where two men and a woman had spent a final summer together before the darkness broke them apart. Anakin Skywalker, Padme Amidala, and Obi Wan Kenobi. 

The damned, the brave, and the honorable. It would be a shame not to follow the legacy of the foundation that started your family. 

  “Padme it is.” 

[nadiafayrosemelham-blog]

I’d like to say I’m generally a lucky person. Nothing too misfortunate has ever happened during my 23 years of existence, I try to stay an honest and good human as much as possible, I don’t tempt the devil too often, and I’m a big believer in karma. What goes around comes around right? I’m basically a Buddhist.

Let me just go back to the first sentence of the last paragraph there, where I’ve written ‘I’m generally a lucky person’, and finish this sentence with, in Cambodia I was NOT a lucky person! My Buddhist belief is slightly wavering as I sit on my plane that can’t leave Cambodia quick enough, and think to myself… surely I’ve don’t nothing TOO dramatic to deserve THAT?

At the same time, I’ve recently adapted a new life motto thanks to one of my favourite people in life, the inspirational Lisa Wiltshire. It started out a few months back as ‘live a life worth writing a novel about’ and currently stands a little closer to ‘live a life worth writing a series about’. So on the other shoe (not currently wearing shoes because who keeps their shoes on during a flight), I also believe everything happens for a reason! Very firm firm believer in that one, not questioning this motto at all!

So let me tell you about my memorable trip to Cambodia. I’ll also point out that I’ve used the word memorable, because memorable is a word you use when it wasn’t great, and it wasn’t shit, but you just won’t ever forget it!

It started very innocently with my time in Siem Reap. I took a visit to the Angkor Wat Temples which are absolutely amazing, and wandered around the night market in the evenings. It was drama free and very chilled. I think the starting point in my series of unfortunate events begins with my night bus from Siem Reap to Sihanoukeville, where I was then due to board a ferry to the picturesque island of Koh Rong.

The night bus was a weird hotel bus where you literally share a single bed with a stranger (word of warning you could NEVER travel SEA if you are overweight.. sorry to crush any hopes and dreams but there are just too many tight spaces to deal with and it ain’t gonna happen). I was lucky enough to be put next to a nice young Canadian gal and we both pretty much slept the whole way. At one point I woke up to the bus driver changing the front tyre (NOTE: I think this could be where the series of unfortunate events begins). Not sure how long we were there for but obviously a while as the bus arrived late and I managed to miss my ferry to the island.

I headed to the Buva Sea Ferry office to get on board the next, and seeing as Asia is just organised chaos anyway, I chicken scratched the ferry time off my ticket so I didn’t have to pay more. I had already mentally blamed the receptionist from the hostel for this if anyone was to question my ticket. Soon enough I was on the list for the 11am ferry and was waiting eagerly by the pier. By 12.30 a substitute ferry finally rolled in to take us to the island, as apparently seas were too rough for our small speed ferry.

Sitting front and centre in the ferry, I was dreaming of the white sandy beaches I would soon be lounging upon. As I gazed ahead into the blue sea, I could see waves the size of Africa, which were soon met with the sound of the motor cutting. One giant wave came over the front of the boat and under the front doors into the cabin. Straight after the first wave, a second GIANT wave came rolling over the front of the boat, in through the windows, and absolutely SOAKED the front two rows including lil’ old me. Just to clarify I’m talking a tsunami style wave, and a whole ocean of water inside the boat.

Now has anyone ever told you to make sure you keep all your valuables close to you when travelling? Of course they have, it is absolutely drilled in to you by anyone who cares, and yes of course I had all of my valuables with me including my new MacBook Air and my IPhone 6. I quickly headed straight to the back of the boat where I pulled out my laptop and phone. Water pouring out of both, I wiped them down with a cloth of some sort but my hopes had pretty much been washed away with that wave.

After arriving to the island I managed to buy 2 kilos of rice off an elderly woman for $2, based on the promise that I would eventually return it to her to use for her cooking. Needless to say I was not eating at her restaurant during my stay in Koh Rong. I briefly attempted to save the electronics but the laptop was 100% fried, and the phone only half touch responsive. I held out hope that I could get the phone fixed when I eventually landed in Phnom Penh.

On the ferry, I met a few other girls who were also headed to a secluded hostel on the island called ‘Suns of Beaches’ which was apparently so super chill that you had to take a long tail boat to get there. After climbing off the ferry slightly defeated by the rough ride, we soon found out that there were no boats running to this part of the island due once again to the rough waters. So now I’ve got a fried laptop, a phone that barely works, I’m feeling like a broken woman from the rough ferry ride, AND I can’t get to my hostel (which I’m secretly happy about because I don’t want to look at another boat). I was the first to cut my losses, and soon enough we all decided to check into a hostel in the central area of the island.

We went out for a few drinks to soothe our souls, and eventually headed to bed in our dorm room. I buddied up with a lovely German girl, who I will here on refer to as Germany, not in a racist way, but just because I like that name (her real name was Mirjam). She would be my new partner in crime over the coming days. The first hour of attempted sleep in my dorm bed involved itching, rolling around, applying insect repellant, and giving up on the cause. The following hours of my night involved finding a late night restaurant to sit at and make use of their wifi (on Germany’s iPad that she had so kindly let me borrow because remember my electronics hate me). By the time morning came around I had lodged my travel insurance claim, googled fancy hotels to stay in, had finished my book, and managed to photograph the sunrise! Maybe things weren’t so bad after all!

That day Germany and I enjoyed the gorgeous beaches, and found a double room next door that was clean and perfect for $10 a night. On our 3rd day Miriam convinced me to hike to Suns of Beaches (the hostel we were meant to be staying at), which was about an hours walk from the main village. The first 45 minutes were so beautiful that I wouldn’t even call it a hike. We were just wandering along the beach bare feet with huge backpacks on our back.

In the last what should have been 15 minutes however, things took a turn for the worst. We came to the final section of the hike where you walk through a trail in the jungle. Part way in the trail split in two, and as we stood there wondering which way to go, Miriam said left and I said right. Left we went, as I’d decided I didn’t always need to be right (excuse the pun)! The path started to look super dodgy and I questioned the decision endlessly as we pressed forward under Germany’s lead. After climbing over fallen trees and manoeuvring over boulders we came to a second path, which also split both left and right. Once again Germany chose left, and I chose right. Germany pulled out her frozen map and convinced me once again that left was the way – don’t trust a German with a broken map.

As we wandered down the dry path, about half an hour later we sighted a wooden hut in the distance. That must be it we shouted for joy! But as we neared closer it was actually just a locals house surrounded by chickens, stray dogs, week old garbage and with an entire family perched up on the front verandah. We tried to ask for directions but needless to say, we were soo far out of the tourist zone that their English was definitely not permitting. We stood there for about 10 minutes while a pre-teen boy gave us false hope, staring into his phone in a manner that turned out to be aimless. ‘Maps’ I said pointing to his phone, hoping he would pull up a google map and show us where we were, but that would have been wayyyy too good to be true. He just shrugged his child sized shoulders and gazed up at us with lost eyes.

At this point I took charge as I looked around with no sign of anything marine. ‘We’re going back to the second fork in the path and headed right’. Miriam hesitantly followed me back along the long path we had wandered, and we continued to the right. Did I already point out that we’re in Cambodian heat carrying our entire life on our back? Well we were… but soon enough we came to the waters edge, and simultaneously to a sign that read ‘SUNS OF BEACHES’. Thank the bloody lord for that!

Stumbling up to the hostel check-in area, we told the young Scottish chap we were there to check in and stated our names. Miriam had been emailing them on our behalf during my unplanned technology cleanse, and she had informed them know we would be arriving. Good ole Scotland sat perched up behind the counter and exclaimed ‘I’ve got one bed for Miriam, and no beds for Nadia.’ Ohhh.. perfect! So you’ve got no beds then? ‘Nope, no beds tonight. But your welcome to sleep in a hammock for free. Or go head to toe with Miriam!’ Oh wonderful, the curse of Cambodia continues.

That night we went swimming with the bioluminescent plankton once the sun had set, and watched the water light up around us as we splashed about. What a gorgeous sight it was, and one of the reasons I was determined to go to the island. Once bed time arrived we ended up settling for the head to toe option, and arranged ourselves on the bottom bunk. At about 4am I awoke feeling pretty ‘shitty’ if ya know what I mean, and vomited my life away. Each hour I awoke to visit the bathroom, then resumed head to toe positioning. Of course I had managed to pick up a bug or gastro or whatever it wanted to call itself as it slowly consumed me from the inside.

When morning came I took the first long tail boat back to the main village area, where I would stay a final night back in the double room to sort myself out before the traumatic ferry ride back to the mainland. That morning I’d put on fresh clothes in an attempt to make myself feel wonderful, and tried to convince myself I would make it through the long tail trip without pooping my pants. After heading down to the boat, I soon discovered it was anchored 30m out to sea, and we had to wade over to it with our bags above our head. By this point I really would not have been phased if I dropped my entire bag in the ocean. In fact I probably would have just left it there if I had. But nevertheless I made it to the boat with my fresh clothes soaked and my belly hating life, and my bag made it too.

Soon the boat took off and I realised that once again, I was actually sitting at the front of the boat. Wonderful! I warned the lad next to me that sitting there was probably a terrible mistake as I was currently a series of unfortunate events, and he laughed it off with a slightly scared look left on his face once he realised how serious I was.

I made it back to the main village, and again waded through the breast deep water with my bags above my head. I checked back into the double room and came across the pals I’d made a few days ago, ready to entertain them with my stories. Andrew (aka. England) got a real kick out of my misfortune, and showed me a little sympathy by allowing me the share his laptop and indulge in a movie for some entertainment in my sick state. He fetched me water and noodles, and kept me entertained with his dodgy English humour. Did I mention that on this afternoon I also managed to disable my phone by tapping excessively at the screen to work and entering the pin incorrectly one too many times? So my phone now says ‘connect to iTunes’, but I can’t do that because my computer is fried isn’t it! So the comforting thought of still having the contents of my phone is now shattered as I realise I will have to factory reset the phone after fixing the screen. WHAT-IS-TECHNOLOGY?

The next day I sat at the dodgiest pier of the four on the island with my stomach feeling just as dodgy. England had come along to send me off, and we joked about how the tiny boat that looked like it held two people at the end of the pier would be my boat. Safe to say that god damn boat was indeed my Buva Sea Ferry. On board I climbed, or rather leaped as the boat bounced around everywhere, and stood there trying to calculate which seat would be best to sit in, in the case of another rogue wave.

The boat took off and I can 100% say it was the most outrageous experience yet. It would be no exaggeration to say that I would pay a lot of money at Sydney Harbour to experience that same boat ride. The only difference is that I would receive a life jacket and a seat belt, and the boat would be labelled ‘The JetSpinner’. I sat there gripping at the handles tighter then mum used to grip the car handles when I was a learner driver, and thinking to myself, it’s been a nice life! I think I made eye contact with every single person on that boat, just to check if they were filled with the same fears as I was. My previous dramatic ferry ride had taught me that when the motor cuts, it is NOT a good sign, and by the time I could sight land in the distance I think the motor had cut about 16 times and we had become proper airborne at least 5 of those times. There were 2 vomits, 12 shaken passengers, and 24 wobbly knees onboard.

I sat at the cafe I was due to be collected from, and recovered from the experience whilst mentally preparing for my bus ride ahead. As pickup time came close I confirmed with a few too many waitstaff that I would definitely be getting collected from that cafe. A feeling in my belly told me things were not improving, and I asked one final person about the pickup, who responded ‘Oh, the driver has already been and collected everyone!’ Of course he bloody has! With a few minutes to spare, I hopped on the back of a motorbike and headed for the bus departure point, where a phone call had been made to ask the driver to wait for me. Finally I was on the bus, and NOTHING ELSE COULD POSSIBLY GO WRONG.

I made it to Phnom Penh, where I continued to suffer gastro from my Koh Rong visit. I took my phone to the night market where it was fixed within 15 minutes, and then managed to lock myself out of every bank account and email account I own by entering incorrect passwords. Touch recognition on iPhones is a blessing and a curse, as if I would remember the 9 million different passwords I’ve got for each account.

To be fair apart from the above, Phnom Penh was mostly drama free – and I was soon headed to the airport to take my flight to Indonesia and leave this cursed land of Cambodia! Very conscious of how my luck had been panning out, I decided to leave for the airport excessively early. I sat, waiting for the check in counter to open, and when it did, I jumped in the line. After about a 40 minute wait to the front (and after feeling very content in the line about my luck improving), I was faced by a Cambodian man. He asked for my departure flight details from Indonesia and I informed him I was yet to book a flight, but was only staying a week or so. The kind sir proceeded to tell me that he was unable to check me in for the flight until I had a departure flight FROM Indonesia. So let me just clarify this for you quickly… I’m due to fly Cambodia to Indonesia, with a layover in Malaysia, and this dude cares about my DEPARTURE flight from INDONESIA?…. Excuse me, but why on God’s earth do YOU Cambooodia, care when or as a matter of fact, IF I ever leave Indonesia?

I’ve learnt mostly by observation that you will get absolutely nowhere by arguing or back and forth-ing with anyone in Asia, so I accepted defeat and stepped to the side in order to book my flight leaving Indonesia. I had one hour to book the flight which seemed easy enough, but of course with Nadia’s lucky this wasn’t the case. I could feel myself floating further and further up shit creek with a dodgy airport wifi connection and a ticking clock staring me in the face. Time passed and the check-in line slowly disappeared. I literally had 4 minutes left to check in, and I looked at the Cambodian man with the saddest puppy dog eyes you’ve ever seen in your life, thinking to myself he is for sure a dad or an uncle or at least has a bloody soul! He took a look at my eyes slowly filling with tears from the past two weeks, and said ‘Well, you did TRY to book a flight so I’ll check you in. But just make sure you book a departure flight before you get to Indonesia or you might have trouble.’ I thanked him one too many times not really knowing what the hell for, and sprinted to my gate to get on that god damn plane.

I was pretty much the last person to board, and I could see my row up ahead with two people filling the seats next to mine. In front, row 25 sat entirely empty from A through C, and I said to myself “Fuck it!” I sat in that row all by myself and spread out across the three seats absolutely stoking the blazing fire that was my fate whilst the wheels smoothly lifted off the tarmac. I could practically feel the Cambodian curse being lifted as we ascended further into the air, and I could finally rest easy.

Summary of unfortunate events:

Bus arrived late to Sihanoukeville and missed my ferry

Managed to board a later ferry involving tsunami waves, wet bums, and fried electronics

Couldn’t get to secluded island hostel due to rough seas

Bed at substitute hostel filled with biting bugs = sleepless night

Got lost in the Cambodian jungle with no ocean in sight in attempt to find original hostel

Caught a gastro bug after swimming with the plankton in the lush Koh Rong water

Bounced around for an hour on return ferry ride to mainland as surrounding passengers chucked up and winced around me

Missed pick up to deliver me to my bus to Phnom Penh

Just about missed my flight out of Cambodia due to weird Cambodian airport regulations that I still don’t understand

(Hold tight for my next post, to see if the Cambodian curse really had been lifted, or if it was just the altitude playing havoc on my senses.)

[randrvstheworld]

The Bogotá Diaries, & a passage to Ecuador

So far, Bogotá had been extremely chill.

After a shopping day & a stir fry (home cooked by us; we have been eating extremely well especially since hanging out with so many vegetarians) we relocated from the Airbnb to a hostel, Lucy in tow as she cancelled her flight & decided to hang with us some more. Hooray!

We’re now back in a Fatima Hostel, the same as Santa Marta; one of the biggest we’ve stayed in & v nice too. You come to appreciate all sorts of trivial things when you don’t live in a house of your own - having plug sockets next to your bunk (this hostel has none), showers with nice hot water & good pressure (this hostel does indeed have these & they are worth a thousand plug sockets). 

Bogota passed in a bit of a blur - Lucy’s last days with us were very well spent but also involved a lot of drinking as we kept going out to celebrate her ‘last night’ & then every morning she’d change her mind & travel plans hahaha. I also wrote a long passage about our trip to the Museo Nacional but tumblr bungled it right up so I’ve only just realised that it did not post - CHEERS TUMBLR. I do enjoy writing about our travels but I’ve been a bit slack about doing it every day of late, too busy having fun but I don’t want to forget anything so I’m gonna try & be a bit more disciplined. Also need to cut back on the drinking & sobriety & being productive do make great bedfellows so I’m gonna get all my business back on track.

So. Bogota. We visited the Museo Nacional - I can’t tell you on what day because as I have learned it’s virtually impossible to keep track of days of the week when you’re unemployed & your life has no structure. But we did. It’s a museum dedicated to the history of Colombia, containing many interesting artefacts & info & art works from hundreds of years of history of the country; a history blighted by Colonisation, & conflict, drug wars & violence but also incredible resilience & art & traditional & a whole indigenous history of it’s own that makes for a truly rich tapestry. One of the things I am enjoying the most about travelling is learning about world history although it is highlighting that my current level of knowledge is embarrassingly poor. Anyway. The museum is housed in an old prison so the building itself is very cool, also slightly eerie, but housed a very varied & interesting collections of stuffs. We inadvertently ended up in some college students’ projects on account of being English. We participated in an interactive & collaborative art installation that involved writing words that we felt related to Colombia on the walls in chalk.

On our way home we attempted to stop for coffee but what we thought was a cafe was actually a Cuban inspired salsa bar that only sold alcoholic beverages & so I was tricked, TRICKED into drinking a very large gin. The bar was very cool, called La Bembe, it was like a 70s disco curiosity shoppe with mirrored walls & neon signs & disco lights & crazy colourful patterns everywhere & a life-size white tiger made of plaster guarding the bottom of a spiral staircase. Precisely my kind of place, a riot of colour & pattern & kitschy motifs.

The following day we took a daytrip out of Bogota into a small town called Zipaquira to visit El Catedral de Sal, a cathedral in an active underground salt mine & the only underground cathedral in the world. It was very eerie, I find churches & places of worship & religious iconography somewhat creepy at the best of times & the fact that it was all underground & spookily lit gave off a very Parisian Catacombes kind of vibe that freaked me out a little because I kept thinking we were going to imminently find ourselves in a horror film, however it was very interesting & a truly unique experience. There were all these corridors & pathways that wound around & further underground; along the way all these big stone cross sculptures lit up in different ways, sculptures of angels & also knaves where mass is still held regularly - they also apparently have weddings there. At the end there is a truly inexplicable light show. My favourite part was the Espejo de Agua, which is a pool only 10cm deep that looks 20m deep because the water inside is so full of sodium that it reflects the ceiling like a giant silver mirror. It was beautiful, like a pool of mercury. We all took turns blowing on it to create ripples to prove it was actually water. 

That evening was Lucy’s actual last night for real this time, so we popped to the hostel bar next door for ‘a couple of quick drinks’, met a hilarious guy from Chicago & before we knew it it was 3am & we were smashed on Aguardiente (a typical Colombian liquor that tastes like aniseed), trying repeatedly to make Chicago dude (real name: Emmanuel) understand the rules of shithead (”WHAT DO YOU MEAN I CAN’T PLAY A 4 THERE”). The next day we woke up with heads so sore we sacked off the hostel breakfast (fruit & toast) in favour of a hangover-curing feast at a cute place down the road, where we dined on veggie omelettes & croissants & papaya & fresh OJ & coffee until we felt slightly better, or at least better enough to laze about in the hostel TV room under blankets. Chicago reappeared & bought us all pizza & moaned with us. And then the moment we had been dreading - Lucy left us for Santa Marta. I miss her. She is one of the coolest people I have met & someone I clicked with much quicker than I normally do with people. I’m so glad she lives in London so I’ll be able to hang out with her on the regs when I finally, eventually go home.

Roxy & I were leaving the next day but managed to cram a trip on the funicular up to Montserrate into the morning before we had to leave. Montserrate is a ginormous hill overlooking the whole of Bogota - there’s a church at the top & a beautiful garden & a little market, you take a kind of hillside tram up there & a cable car back down. Needless to say the views were spectacular: Bogota as far as the eye can see on one side, beautiful green luscious hillside on the other. Colombia is truly one of the most beautiful, breathtaking & constantly surprising places I have ever been, my word. I am sad we had to go. I keep thinking back to all the places we visited & getting all emotional that we’re not there any more. It’s also been the setting of the start of many glorious friendships, we’ve met some really lovely people there & partied super hard. Our time in Colombia has been pretty wild so I guess like all good things it had to come to an end but I am quite sad about it. Whenever I start feeling sad about leaving a country it reminds me of how sad I was to leave the UK & all the people I love that live there & I suddenly get struck with a homesickness that aches my heart. I know I will be back at some point but I’m currently wrestling with the idea of whether or not to get a working visa for Australia to prolong the travelling for a bit & also hopefully not return home completely destitute. My only concern is what if I want to come home. I WISH I had enough money to go home for a couple of weeks & just spend 14 days hugging people. I can’t though.

And now, I am in Quito, capital city of Ecuador, where it is cold & I have no towel because I left it hanging on a tree to dry in our hostel in Bogota. We are staying in an AirBnB/guesthouse with very sweet hosts & eagerly awaiting the return of Gabby back into our lives tomorrow evening. Today was spent in my very best way to spend a first day in a new city - a free walking tour. It’s a great way to learn the lay of the land & a lot of history & cultural norms & traditional tips as well. Today I learned about the messy political history of Ecuador & also about the prevalence of blackberries in various juices & dishes which I am now obsessed with trying. Quito is extremely hilly & much prettier than I had expected, not that I was really expecting anything as we ended up here completely by accident due to a flight-booking snafu. But what a happy accident it has transpired to be.

Someone I care about very much said to me the other day that he suspected I may come back from travelling a completely different person. I hope if that is true that I will have only changed for the better. Travelling is certainly making me more confident & a little less uptight, also more humble, & I feel I now have a clearer mind about what I want out of the rest of my life. But I am still me, or at least I hope so. 

Anyway. It’s getting late here & I slept super badly last night on account of my bad knee which is getting worse by the day, keeping me up at night in agonising pain. It’s cold here so I’m wearing my warm clothes for the first time in 4 months. I don’t know what we’re going to do tomorrow, which is a first for me, not having a plan. I kinda like it though. I am naturally a planner - I like knowing what I’m going to do tomorrow, & the next day. But in a way I think it’s good not to know. The only thing that lies ahead is exactly what I choose in that moment.