#not realising just how well they'd click. and that it might even turn into -gasp- feelings adjacent to love

[love-killed-the-superstar]

*peppers my turtletitanshipping playlist with some break up songs because of the inevitability of them having to part ways when the time portal is completed*

[border-spam]

Leech Lord - Beginnings and regrets

The single least Seifa thing Seifa has ever done, is probably also the most actual Seifa thing she's ever done, and that's extremely Seifa of her.

It was going against every lesson survival had beaten into her so far in her life, and helping Tyreen instead of walking away all those years ago.

(Pre CoV)

Pandora is a terrible place.

The whole Galaxy is, Pandora just has a reputation that's honest about it.

The Edens, Athenas, Promethea, Tantalus, every city on every settled planet is built on a foundation of bones, nowhere's really safe or actually wants the humans that settled uninvited and ruined the neighborhood. Can't really expect an ecosystem to welcome you with open arms when you immediately start destroying it for profit, and life ain't easy anywhere. Nowhere is good. Nowhere is nice.

You can't live for long without finding out how dangerous "caring" is.

Small family units survive, yeah, clans scrabble out a living on rock plains and migrant space-rigs, but if you hold out a hand to a stranger in need you need to know the risks, need to really understand how likely it is that there's a knife behind their back and a couple of crosshairs already trained on you.

You have to be harsh, you have to be cruel. Everyone who makes it on the border planets knows the unwritten rules.

Unless you've the backing of a town militia or a hell of a lot of weaponry, you can't afford to risk your own safety for others - and Sei has walked past more people who gasped out a desperate plea for help with one of the few breaths they had left then she could ever, ever let herself acknowledge. Fuck man, everyone has. It's one of the sad truths of living at the knifepoint everyone balances on out here at the fringe.

...It's no different really on the corporate ones, the blades waiting to land in your back are just better dressed there.

So, when Seifa went to walk away from that filthy kid in the junkyard with the busted SMG and found herself stopping as the girl pleaded for medicine, that was beyond out of character.

That was weird. That was impossible to justify, and she lost plenty of nights to trying to do so after - long ones, with tears and far too much whiskey.

It's hard to think back on, how unsettling and stomach turning that first month had been. The whole thing feels like a blur, some grease smeared memory that's mostly lost to the desperately anxious conflict that was going on in her head the entire time. She can remember specific points, but they're half images half feeling, nerves and worry all tangled together into something she hates dwelling on.

She remembers the heat mirages swirling above the desert sands as Elpis set on the horizon, driving the girl out across the salt flats as Ty panicked and urged Sei to go faster, all while she was trying to explain to herself WHY she hadn't slapped this stranger out of her buggy and throttled in the opposite direction. What had gotten into her?

She doesn't remember anything that the kid had said as she was lead by her into that dark shack, still battling with why she wasn't turning around, why she was gingerly picking through debris to reach what looked like a hastily set up camp surrounded by rusting sheet metal and pieces that used to be the hovel - but she remembers the stink of fever sweat that wrinkled her nose and that sad mound of sharp angles heaped at the center by a burnt out fire pit, and the shock of realising it was a man when Tyreen had dropped to her knees and begged through sobs for him to keep breathing.

That she had "Found someone to help."

Recalls fighting back the equal disgust she felt with herself for helping carry the nothing he weighed out of that shithole, and for the fact he was still alive in this state. Covered in filth, blood, chunks of.. something, and reeking of puke and god knows what else. How she chewed at her lip till she tasted copper as the buggy engine rattled in complaint under them, flooring it when she knew the shoddy weld job on the left axle wasn't going to take this strain and would need another couple of hundred dollars she didn't have in repairs by the time she got these pathetic kids back to her ship - and she remembers wincing hours later at her empty medical cabinet after gutting it to keep the boy alive.

Saline stock sucked dry, bactum wasted, and she was saving those health kits for when she might need them...

It was a bad decision. It was a stupid decision, and she'd spent that first night when the girl had cried herself to sleep and he'd finally stabilised, sitting on the cold floor of her quarters with her back pressed against the repurposed mag-lock door, cradling her pistol in her lap as she gnawed at her nails.

They were Sirens.

Sirens.

Moron. Stupid fucking twat, If Boss found out, he'd kill her before these two could get the chance.

Helping them had been idiot move enough, had gone against every fiber of who she'd built herself into, but she couldn't have known. Tyreen had been covered in rags, and Troy's markings too dim and caked in muck to even see before they'd gotten him cleaned up and stable.

She hadn't known. She didn't know, nothing about Sirens anyway, just that you didn't fuck with 'em in the first place. Sirens were bad news, Sirens were the bane of Pandora in the last few years and everyone knew the stories. They were monsters who could turn you inside out or roast you alive without needing to point a gun first, and now she had two in her home with no defenses bar a shitty Jacobs she knew damn well she could barely aim, and hopefully enough faux confidence to seem in control of the situation.

That first night had been the worst.

The twins slept fine, Troy out cold and Ty having cried herself unconscious shortly after his heart beat had become something possible to confuse with normal if you squinted at the scan display from the right angle, but Sei didn't close her eyes once.

Sat awake all night in the clunking, humming, rattling silence of her home as she thumbed the revolver's cylinder slowly, considering how each click marked another second she'd left them both alive instead of doing the right thing and emptying a round into each of their skulls. Pandora would take care of the bodies and she'd fix a serious mistake she was walking straight into... but the suns rose in the end, and the twins were none the wiser about how close the decision had actually been.

It didn't really get better. The fear did, that passed over the next couple of days, but not the worry, not the regret. Two more mouths to feed when she only had the funds for herself? The girl was going to have to learn how to work. The cash she'd put aside was for her junker colony, not strangers, and the boy still couldn't even stand... and how were things going to pan out even if they so far didn't seem to be quite as monstrous as she'd been told so many times in no name dive bars in settler towns?

What if she took Tyreen out on a barter run and her markings got noticed? That mad corporate fuckwad Sexy George or fuckin whatever had just been running some reward scheme for Sirens, right? Would the lowbrows she dealt with on a daily basis here comprehend that wasn't a thing anymore, or would Sei be shanked and Ty abducted within hours of setting foot in a trade dock?

And him...

What the fuck was she going to do with him.

He wouldn't talk, wouldn’t even look at her, just some massive, gangly, awkward, nervous child that ghosted around the edge of her vision and scurried out of the room like a panicked Skag pup if she made the mistake of looking directly at him.

Sick still, even if he was trying to stay in his crew cubby for less every day, the one she'd told him was his and still had not a word of thanks for yet. Shaky, delicate, and in no physical condition to be able to help around the ship yet alone have a chance of bringing in some extra dollars, even if he hadn't been missing such a huge chunk of himself. Pity wasn't going to keep him fed, and she was pissed with herself for feeling it for him in the first place.

She figured that's what had done it really... them being siblings.

That raw desperation in Tyreen's voice as she'd begged Seifa to help when she'd turned to walk away. That her brother was so sick and she didn't know what to do. Siblings gut punched her in ways she knew were a weakness out here. The twin thing? That had just cemented it really. Helping wasn't in Seifa's nature, but leaving kids to die wasn't in her bones.

Still, she'd make it work, she always did. They'd survive, and she'd come out of this in profit one way or another, that was as sure as an Athenian monk lowballing an offer.

She'd train the girl up and run some deals with her, cover the costs of helping them out with a tidy margin for herself - then she'd leave 'em with the tools to survive, a couple of hundred bucks to get started and never have to see them again.

She'd be fine. She was always fine.

That's very Seifa of her.

Asks are Open!

[mithranqueersmusings]

I Think I'll Love You Too I

Chapter: 1/?

Rating: E

Summary: George and Ringo have been going out officially for a couple of months. Ringo anticipated that dating a stripper would be complicated, but he didn't understand exactly how complicated it would be.

Tags: Modern AU, Smut

Pairing: George Harrison/Ringo Starr (Background McLennon)

AO3 link here / Fic masterlist here

"Are you sure about this?" Ringo asked tentatively, running the strips of leather through his fingers gently.

George gave him a look which needed no further explanation, the severity of his gaze enough to silence Ringo's worries. It hadn't been too long ago that Ringo had fantasised about having George all to himself yet now that dream had become a reality, he was nervous. Nervous about what exactly, Ringo didn't know, but ever since George had decided to reveal his extensive sex toy collection Ringo had been dreading the day he'd actually be required to use any of them. It wasn't that he didn't want to use these array of objects on George - the images they conjured in his mind kept him up late on several occasions - but he worried he wouldn't know how to do it properly. George seemed far more experienced with kinks and toys and everything really.

"We can try something else if you like." George was lying on his bed in nothing but a silk - Ringo couldn't tell whether it was real or not - dressing gown that was a deep shade of blue.

"Like what?" Ringo put the whip he'd been holding down onto the bed gently as though it had a mind of its own then scooted around to peruse through George's box once more.

"How about..." George began, scooting down the bed to get a better view "Wax?"

It took Ringo a few moments before he spotted the candles tucked away in the corner, they were thick and red like ones you might see in a horror film. Candles didn't seem that intimidating, at least compared to some of the other contraptions in here. Ringo wasn't even sure what some of them were called, and he was far too embarrassed to ask in this moment.

"Have you ever done it before?" George asked, his voice soft and sultry.

Ringo shook his head and chuckled "How hard can it be? I mean... It's candles."

"Precisely my thinking." George smiled at Ringo, quieting any anxiety he had.

"So... Uh- how do you wanna do this?" Ringo asked feeling rather helpless, picking up two of the candles from the box and giving them a smell - cherry scented, he guessed.

"Well." George began, the excitement in his voice evident, getting up from the bed and crouching beside the box "We're gonna need these."

These referred to a pair of handcuffs and two pieces of ribbon-like material which were a dark maroon colour. Ringo couldn't help himself from staring at George's face as he concentrated, his dark brows knitting together with his expression serious. Even though they'd been dating for a month or two now, Ringo still couldn't believe his luck that he was able to tie down - no pun intended - someone as stunning as George. Light stubble was brushed along his sharp jaw, only accentuating the bone further, his hair was messy yet still enticing and the paleness of his skin was clear to see as the robe slipped over his skin freely.

"We could do a blindfold too, if you wanted." George lowered his voice in concentration "Maybe some... No, I'm getting carried away."

George laughed to himself and returned back to his full height, clutching the aforementioned items before chucking them onto the bed with little consideration. Then he rummaged through his bedside table for a lighter, there was always one in the bedroom due to the cigarettes they tended to smoke after sex. Successful in his search, George threw the lighter to Ringo without warning but he managed to catch it all the same. Ringo cursed himself for feeling so flustered, but it was difficult knowing what was to come. No matter how many times he slept with George, no matter what kind of depraved acts they got up to, he still felt as anxious as the very first time; that was just the effect George had on him.

"I'm gonna hop in the bath real quick, then we can start. Okay?" George threw off his robe casually, letting the fabric slide from his smooth skin into a pile on the floor.

"Sounds like a plan." Ringo nodded, finally putting the candles down beside the bed.

Ringo watched George with hungry eyes as he sauntered off into the bathroom, the way he swung his hips made it clear to Ringo that he knew he was being looked at. The door shut with a gentle thud, leaving Ringo alone to gather his thoughts and prepare for what was to come.

"Comfortable?" Ringo asked after clicking the handcuffs together, pulling George's slim wrists to the top of the bed.

George nodded with a small smile, wiggling his limbs to test the strength of the restraints then nodded again. This was a small moment of intimacy that occurred every time they ventured into kinky territory, the calm before the storm in many ways. Ringo smiled back then flicked the lights off, leaving nothing but a lamp in the corner to light the suppleness of George's body. Ringo's nerves seemed to dissipate in the relative darkness, his breath steadying as he moved back over to the bed. First, he captured George's soft lips in a gentle kiss that quickly grew heated. George wasn't the most patient when it came to the bedroom, his teeth already pulling at Ringo's bottom lip. It took a great deal of strength for Ringo to pull away, fighting the temptation to forget all about the candles and to start spreading George open.

The candles had already been lit, sitting on the bedside table flickering slightly, and it was now that Ringo made his way over to pick one of them up. The sweet smell of cherry wafted around the room, something usually so innocent now suddenly turned erotic. The look in George's eyes was hungry, his hands were already fiddling with the handcuffs as best they could from the awkward angle, watching Ringo experimentally tilt the candle sideways so that the wax began to drip down. First it fell onto the bed, Ringo didn't want to try it directly onto George's skin at first. How much was this going to hurt? Ringo supposed he didn't really have to know, George knew and more importantly wanted desperately to feel the sensation.

"Come on..." George whined, rattling his handcuffs against the metal bedframe in protest.

Ringo moved his hand further, hovering the candle over George's hairless stomach before tilting it once more. The wax dripped down instantly, burning the soft skin for a moment before solidifying; its rich red colour made it appear almost like blood, a sight which no doubt spurred further depraved fantasies in George's mind.

"More." George demanded, his pupils dilated both from the darkness and his exponentially growing lust "And take your fucking clothes off."

Ringo gulped, unsure as to which command he was meant to follow first. It was difficult to think with this enticing display laid out before him: George's cock was beginning to harden and it made Ringo's mouth water. He decided to carry on with the candle for a few more moments, teasingly tilting the candle back and forth so that the wax never fell when George was expecting it. Ringo slowly began making a pattern which gradually grew closer to George's erection, each drop pulling a sharp hiss from his lips.

"Clothes." George repeated impatiently, it was moments like this that reminded Ringo why he'd been so intimidated by George when they'd first crossed paths.

Ringo didn't wait to be told a third time, even though George was helpless to administer any punishment even if he'd wanted to, undoing his trousers and shirt sloppily and tossing them behind him. He hadn't realised how hard he'd become until his erection sprang free from his boxers, evidently George wasn't the only one enjoying this little experiment. Candle back in hand, Ringo carefully shifted himself onto the bed to straddle George's thighs - careful to ensure they were never close enough for their cocks to brush together, that'd be making things too easy - before he tilted the candle once more. This time Ringo aimed for George's nipples which were hard with the coldness of the room, only missing by an inch or two. The second attempt was successful, landing directly onto the target, leading George to groan breathlessly.

"Feel good?" Ringo asked with a raised eyebrow, his free hand rubbing over the clean nipple.

George nodded "Stop holding back. I can take it."

Ringo smirked, jerking his wrist swiftly to administer another hot drop of wax onto his nipples "You wanna tell me where you want it, baby?"

George growled in response, a noise Ringo only heard every so often "My cock." The word sounding so filthy in George's rough tone, his tongue playing with his sharp teeth.

"You sure?" Ringo asked after a pause, his nervousness returning only slightly.

"Yes, I'm sure." George whined, thrusting his hips upwards as best he could to demonstrate his desperation "Now, do it."

Ringo couldn't deny that George's bossiness was a complete turn on, although he'd never let George know exactly how much of a turn on it truly was. He tried his best to silence the anxious thoughts plaguing his mind. Before committing to George's demand, Ringo wrapped his fingers gently around George's erection which earned him a few soft pants. Now or never, Ringo told himself before tilting the thick candle once more and letting the wax fall onto the hard cock gripped in his hand.

The noise that left George's mouth was something Ringo had never heard before, a mixture between a gasp and a deep moan, though it was certainly one he wanted to hear again (and again, and again...) It was difficult to not admire the strange beauty of the wax trickling down George's erection, which was now rock hard.

"Fuck..." Ringo couldn't keep the words from spilling from his lips, only waiting a moment or two before spilling more hot wax onto the reddening skin.

George let out a grunt, sounding far more in pain than he had previously, and for a moment Ringo worried he'd taken it too far but the look on his face was of pure ecstasy.

"More." George moaned, his wrists struggling in the constraints.

"Now, now." Ringo teased, a sly grin on his lips "There's a nicer way of asking that."

The look George gave Ringo made him very appreciative of the restraints for without them, George might've slapped him. He knew George's aggression wasn't genuine, it was just sexual frustration, but that didn't make it any less terrifying. A few moments passed in which the two of them just looked at each other, George's mouth tight with anger as he waited for Ringo to give up this act and carry on following his orders, but the time never came. Ringo only raised his eyebrows further, tilting the candle just so that it never dropped any wax.

"I'm waiting." Ringo spoke with a lilt, his grin widening.

George rolled his eyes and scoffed, looking like a disgruntled child "Please give me more, Ringo..."

"More of... what?" Ringo pushed his luck, he decided he may as well make use of George being helpless like this for as long as he could.

George's stare was deadly but it melted away when Ringo gave his cock a few loose jerks "Please pour that hot wax on my cock, please. I've been good, haven't I?"

Ringo found it difficult to refuse George whenever he opted for the mock-innocent route, so he decided to stop the teasing and snapped his wrist suddenly which led to three separate droplets of wax falling onto the sensitive skin of George's cock. George practically shrieked, his body jerking upwards but failing to move more than a few inches off the bed.

"Fuuuuck." George breathed, his eyes struggling to focus "Do that again."

For a moment Ringo debated teasing George further, but his own erection was growing uncomfortably hard and he wouldn't be able to ignore it for much longer. In a quick motion Ringo grabbed the second candle, unleashing a shower of wax down onto George. The noises were pained yet still erotic, Ringo couldn't help moaning himself as he watched the pain and pleasure washing over George's face. When George and Ringo's eyes finally met once more, Ringo could tell that George's vision was a little fuzzy.

"Can you use wax as lube?" Ringo asked, his mouth opening before he'd even considered what he was saying.

George's hazy eyes lit up "We can try."

Only now did Ringo realise the commitment he was making with that question, although it would have been foolish to pretend the idea didn't excite him thoroughly. It wasn't the smoothest transition but Ringo managed to undo the restraints on George's legs and get him into a position where the wax could drop directly onto his entrance.

"Are you sure?" Ringo asked cautiously, his free hand running circles up and down George's thigh to soothe him.

"Do it." George ordered once more, biting down on his lip.

Ringo shut off the barrage of voices telling him to stop, that this was taking things too far, and let his wrist flop down. George was incapable of making a sound, his mouth agape with only sharp breaths pouring out. However much it hurt, Ringo was certain he didn't want to know, but it was clear that George approved of whatever it was he was experiencing.

"Jesus." George panted "Feels so fucking good."

"Oh yeah?" Ringo asked, letting another two drops fall onto his hole "Tell me."

"Fuck!" George yelped, his wrists rattling in the handcuffs "Hurts so much... Don't stop."

Ringo tried to ignore the potential contradiction, pressing his finger roughly inside before spilling more wax from above; a drop fell onto Ringo's finger and stung for a moment or two before the pain subsided. George was falling apart before him, sweat dripping from his forehead and sticking his dark hair onto the skin in strands.

"I don't need your fingers." George squirmed "I want your cock, Ringo. Now."

"It's not-" Ringo began but George silenced him with a glare "Alright."

Ringo shifted himself on his knees, pumping his finger a few more times before pulling it out entirely. It didn't take too long for Ringo to learn the telling signs of when George was getting close: his toes would start curling, he'd bite his lip just hard enough to draw a drop or two of blood and his eyes would grow so dark, the pupil engulfing the iris completely.

Even Ringo was getting too frustrated to be overtly considerate, letting the wax fall liberally down onto George's arse, coating his cock and his entrance as a cacophony of moans and shrieks filled the room. It was getting to a point that Ringo was concerned that George might break the handcuffs completely, the skin on his wrists clearly irritated.

"Ringo..." George cooed, it was impossible for Ringo not to be enticed by his own name being said so sweetly "I want you inside me."

No further words were needed, Ringo spit into his hand and lathered up his cock before lining up with George's entrance, now covered with red wax. Fortunately it hadn't solidified completely and Ringo was able to fashion a makeshift lube out of the soft wax and his own spit, it wasn't his most dignified moment but in the heat of the moment all he needed was to feel his cock stretching George out. As the head pushed past the tight ring of muscle George began clawing at the bedframe, sweat dripping from his skin as he moaned at the sensation.

"I swear you get fucking bigger every time." George breathed, his hand gripping the metal frame to expel some tension.

"I'm not getting bigger, you're getting tighter." Ringo groaned, thrusting himself in deeper as the smell of cherries wafted into his nose.

It was difficult to move at first, the lube was hardly effective and without any preparation it was a struggle. More spit was needed and eventually more wax, Ringo was as careful as he could manage to not drop any onto his own cock but it was only possible to a certain extent; the further they went the more he found himself enjoying the burning sensation although he was certain he wouldn't be able to endure as much as George had.

"Not complaining are you?" George cocked an eyebrow and pulling Ringo closer towards him with his legs.

Ringo moaned gruffly "You know I'm not."

"Fuck me harder, then." George began writhing again, desperate for his own cock to be touched.

It was a complete sensory overload: the cherry scent so strong now that Ringo's head was swimming, the wax occasionally catching on his skin which would cause him to suddenly thrust forward into George who was so tight that Ringo wanted to scream. George was practically wailing at this point, his lip smeared with red as he tried to keep his eyes locked on Ringo's as he fucked him deeper.

"I feel like I'm gonna pass out." Ringo admitted, the fuzziness of his mind slurring his speech just slightly.

George looked concerned for a moment, it wasn't often that his sultry persona was shaken but it was difficult to hide; Ringo reassured him with a weak smile, gripping onto George's thigh and quickening his thrusts. He was getting close, George seemed to have been on the edge of orgasm for an impossible amount of time.

"I'm close, I'm close." Ringo repeated, cascading more wax down onto the few areas of George's chest that were still bare before blowing out the candle entirely and chucking it onto the bedside table as accurately as he could manage.

"Touch me." George pleaded, barely able to keep his eyes open.

Ringo wrapped his hand once more around George's coated cock, the wax had started to crumble and create a mess all over the bed but neither of them paid any attention. The intensity of his incoming orgasm almost scared Ringo, he'd never felt anything like it before. George hadn't stopped babbling, whether he was whining for release or muttering incoherent yet clearly filthy things.

"Need your fucking cum." George managed to speak with some clarity "Fuck! Give it to me, give it to me... I want your cum."

Ringo gripped George's leg tighter for some stability, expelling his final burst of energy as he fucked into him roughly and sloppily. Both were groaning, dripping with sweat and wax and desperation. If Ringo had known this experience would be this enjoyable, he would've suggested it sooner.

"Shit, shit." Ringo panted "I'm close."

"Mmmm." George whined, his voice nearly wrecked "Come on, baby, give it to me. I wanna feel your hot cum deep inside me. Please, please, please, make me dirty. I wanna be dirty for you."

"Fuuuucking hell." Ringo's hips stuttered as he chased his orgasm, his eyes shut tight as the ever-familiar sensation began deep in his stomach "You're unbelievable, George."

Then he was coming, the orgasm striking Ringo with such an intensity that he released a noise he didn't even know he was capable of making. With these final shreds of energy Ringo desperately jerked George's cock until he was finishing too, shooting cum all over his wax-covered skin. The climax hit like a huge wave, crashing into the both of them as utter ecstasy washed over their sweaty bodies. It took several moments for the both of them to recover, Ringo hadn't even pulled out while they tried to catch their breath.

When Ringo finally felt capable of opening his eyes and returning to reality, George was looking directly at him with a smug expression.

"What?" Ringo asked, sitting down onto the bed and brushing his sweaty hair away from his forehead.

"Nothing." George replied innocently "I just can't believe you did all that."

"Is it really that surprising?" Ringo leaned over to finally release George's aching wrists from the handcuffs.

"Maybe not." George let his arms flop onto the bed "But if you'll do this, maybe there's some more shit in that box we can try."

"I'm gonna need at least 3-5 working days to recover from this." Ringo huffed, lying himself down beside George "Then we can talk."