#take me down a peg why don’t ya

[smoreboi]

anyone wanna send me anon hate so that hubris doesn’t become my downfall?

[thetriumphantpanda]

she a bad lil bitch, she a rebel | joel miller

Summary | Joel has to teach you a damn lesson, just like always.

Pairing | Brat Tamer!Joel x F!Reader

Word Count | 4K

Warnings | brat tamer!Joel, softdom!Joel, praise kink, implied age gap, spanking, use of rope restraints, hair-pulling, edging, orgasm denial, squirting, (1) singular pussy slap, unprotected PiV sex, rough sex, oral sex (M&F receiving), face-fucking, fingering, dirty talk, breath play, biting, cum play/cum eating, reader is a bratty menace, aftercare(!), no use of y/n.

Authors Note | All I'm going to say is this came to me in a dream and I had to get it down on paper. Mostly written on my phone with very little proofreading, so any mistakes are my own and I will live and die by them. This is basically just pure filth. Enjoy, and happy birthday to that old man. I love him but I would give him the hardest time, just like reader.

Main Masterlist | Ko-Fi

If there was one thing that you lived for, it was pushing Joel Miller’s patience. The poor man had wandered into Jackson, little girl in tow, looking worn and weary almost a year ago, and from the moment you set eyes on him, you just knew you had to give this old man a run for his money. 

You’d started subtle, flirting with him on patrol, taking his distaste at your attempt to talk to him at every second as a personal challenge to break him, to work him down just enough to make your move. After a couple of weeks, he’s started talking, mainly in single word answers, but you’d managed to slowly chip him down. 

Then came the weekly drinks at The Tipsy Bison, everyone on patrol usually went, apart from those scheduled to be out that day, but he’d started laughing at your jokes and had even opted to sit next to you on occasion. Then one night, he’d walked you home, you’d had one too many glasses of whiskey, kissed him on the porch but agreed it wasn’t right to fuck right then, but he’d come back, that next night, both of you sober, and you’d kissed him again, and the rest really was history. 

It’s late afternoon when he comes through his front door, toeing his boots off as the door slams behind him. You’ve been led on his couch for most of the afternoon, reading a book you’d plucked from his shelf – some nonsense Western that did nothing to keep your attention, but was enough to keep you occupied whilst you waited for him to come home. 

“Afternoon,” You sing to him as he shrugs his jacket off, hanging it on the coat stand near the door, “Good patrol?” 

“Was fine,” He grumbles, just like he always does, he swats at your legs to get you to move them enough for him to sit down, “Scoot,” You lift them up just long enough for him to ease himself onto the couch, before you put them back down on his lap, abandoning the book on the coffee table, “You sort the stuff in the kitchen like I asked?” 

“No.” You say simply, shaking your head, subtly digging the heel of your foot into the front of his jeans. 

His big palm circles your ankle, gripping in warning, “What about the sheets, you wash ‘em?”

“Did you see them pegged out when you came home?” You ask, sweetly, using your other foot now to dig into his jeans. 

“Will you fuckin’ quit it?” He seethes a little, other hand gripping your other ankle to still you, “What have you done all day, huh?” He implores, “I don’t keep ya around to lounge about lookin’ pretty.” 

You chuckle, “That’s exactly why you keep me around, old man.” 

“Shut up,” He squeezes at your ankles, “I asked you a question, you gonna answer me?” 

You shrug, “Woke up late,” You hold up one finger, “Felt horny so I got myself off,” Another finger, “Had a shower, used the last of that nice soap,” Another finger, “Made lunch,” Another finger, “And then led here reading one of your stupid books until you came home.” A final finger raised so you’re holding up and entire hand, palm facing towards him. 

You’re looking at him, all scowling face and dark eyes as his fingers wrap even tighter around your ankles. If you didn’t know him like you did, you’d be frightened, but you know he’s just thinking about the best way to deal with you. You wonder which of his lessons he’s going to bring out today as the look he’s giving you shoots straight down to your core. 

“I ask you to do two things,” He sighs, like he’s tired, “I ain’t exactly expectin’ slave labour from you, and you sit here and treat it like the Hilton?” 

“What’s the Hilton?” You ask, genuinely curious, thinking it must have been something from the times before all this, the times you were too young to remember. 

“Forget it.” He growls, and you think any minute now he’s gonna move to drag you off and show you just how bad you’ve been, but he doesn’t move, just sits with your ankles clasped in his hands, staring at the wall in front of him. 

“I’ve been so bad Joel,” You goad, trying to wriggle your ankles free, “Aren’t you going to teach me a lesson?” 

“No,” He spits, “I ain’t, because you like it too damn much, ain’t teachin’ you anythin’ because you never learn.” 

You pout a little, looking up at him through your eyelashes, “Promise to listen real hard this time Joel,” You promise, “Try and learn and much as possible.” 

“No,” He speaks, stern tone, with a warning squeeze to your ankles again, “Been a long day, don’t have the energy to bring you into line.” 

“Ah, I see,” You muse, “You’re feeling too old today.” 

“What did you just say t’me?” He’s incredulous now, good, you’ve got him just where you want him. 

“Oh, nothing,” You giggle, “Don’t worry.” 

It seems to do the trick though, because he’s pushing himself up from the couch, gripping at your wrist now to pull you up as well. He pushes you gently by the small of your back to get you to walk in front of him, “Upstairs.” Is the only instruction he gives, along with a playful swat to your bottom as you start up the stairs. 

He’s crowding behind you, always following just one step behind as you make your way to his bedroom, suddenly aware that you didn’t make the bed when you rolled out of this morning. That’s surely another black mark to your name, you think, as he sits down on the edge of the bed. 

“Get undressed.” 

This is new, normally Joel liked to be the one to unwrap you, but you start working on the buttons of your shirt, undoing it and dropping it to the floor, followed closely behind by your jeans, leaving you standing in front of him in your underwear, “All of it.” He demands. 

Your hands shakily reach behind you to unclasp your bra, dragging it from your body to land with the rest of your clothes. You drag your panties down your legs and step out of them, wrapping your arms across your chest to try and cover yourself a little. Joel reaches out a hand to you, which you take timidly, expecting him to pull you into him so he could put his mouth on you, anywhere, but instead, you find yourself pulled to him and folded over his lap so quickly you let out a surprised yelp. 

“So fuckin’ naughty, all the damn time baby,” He speaks softly, running his fingers down the length of your spine, “Don’t ever think you’ll learn how to be good.” 

His hand trails down to your bare ass, gripping the skin with his hands, using his other arm to press you down into his lap, rough material of his jeans rubbing against the sensitive peaks of your tits and the soft skin of your tummy. He rubs his rough palm over the globes of your ass, anticipation building in your body. Then, he pulls away, bringing his palm down onto your ass with a satisfying ‘smack’ ringing through the air. It takes a while for your brain to catch up with what’s just happened, but then the stinging sensation settles across your skin and has you wriggling to get away. 

“Keep still,” Joel chastises, free hand digging further into the small of your back to keep you from moving, “That’s one, how many do you think you deserve baby?” He muses, “Fifty?” 

“W-what?!” You exclaim, “N-no Joel, that’s too much.” 

“Forty then?” His palm is cradling at the skin he’s just spanked. 

“T-ten?” You offer feebly. 

“Oh baby girl,” He tuts at you, “Aim higher.” 

“Fifteen?” 

“How about we settle for twenty, baby?” He asks, all soft and sweet, “Twenty seems reasonable to me.” 

He doesn’t give you time to agree, it would seem the bargaining time is over, as he brings his palm back down onto your ass, harder than before, but in the same exact place. It jolts you on his lap, makes you cry out. The front of your body dragging against his denim. 

“How many?” He asks, rubbing his hand over the skin he’s just spanked. 

“Two.” You reply quietly, trying to keep the whimper you want to let out to yourself. 

“Good girl,” He praises, raising his hand again, “Keep count for me, okay?” 

Smack.

“Three!” You shriek, as his palm yet again connects with that same patch of skin. 

Smack.

“F-four.” 

Smack.

“Oh fuck,” You groan, trying to wriggle away unsuccessfully, it’s already too much, “Five!”

Smack.

This one doesn’t hurt as much; Joel’s shifted the assault of his palm onto the virgin side of your ass for you. You suck in a deep breath, try and blink away the tears that have formed in your eyes, as his hand massages where it’s just struck. He gives you another four on that cheek, and then switches back to the original, bringing his palm back down onto the skin that you’re sure is reddening by now. 

“Joel!” You cry out, tears dropping from your eyes now, but your body betrays you and arches your back for him, pushing your ass up like you’re asking for it, “E-eleven.” 

It carries on like that, five spanks to each cheek until you’re practically sobbing over his lap. You count the twentieth spank and a feeling of relief washes over you as he bends over you to press a light kiss to the sore skin he’s left. It makes you hiss, the contact, no matter how gentle he is with it. Then, he’s shifting you off his lap and onto the bed, letting you scurry away to the top of the mattress as he stands. 

The stinging of the skin of your ass is still making you sniffle as Joel shuffles to the bedside table, digging around in it. You’re not quite sure what he’s looking for, focusing mainly on trying to keep the red raw skin of your ass off the sheets, when he stands, throwing what he was looking for onto the sheets next to you. You turn your head and see the length of rope that he keeps in his drawer just for moments like this. 

“Arms up.” He short with you, sitting on his knees next to you. 

You do as you’re told, raising your arms above your head, still pushing your ass off the bed, but knowing soon enough you’ll be focused on something else that isn’t the stinging sensation of your ass. He takes your wrists and binds them together deftly, like it’s a walk in the park for him, like it’s something he does all the time. Then, once he’s sure your wrists are safely encased in rope, he takes the other end and ties it to his bed frame. He tugs slightly to make sure the way he’ll have you thrashing soon means that you won’t be able to pull yourself free. 

“That okay?” He asks gruffly, to which you nod, “Words, baby.” 

“Y-yes,” You stammer, “It’s okay.” 

“Remember your word?” He asks, stepping off the bed to partially undress, shucking his jeans and flannel off, but keeping his t-shirt and boxers on. 

“I remember.” 

He hums in approval, settling himself on the bed between your thighs, using wide palms to spread you open for him. You’re absolutely soaked, pussy dripping with slick from his palms and the way he’s trussed you up to his bed. 

Joel lets out a low whistle, letting his thumb rub up the length of your folds, “See,” He murmurs, using his thumb to gently spread the lips of your pussy to reveal your clit, already swollen and begging for attention, “Told ya that ya liked being punished too much,” He lets his thumb make a single swipe over that bundle of nerves, chuckling as you cry out, hips bucking to try and follow his finger, “She’s already fuckin’ soaked for me, baby.” 

You let out a high-pitched mewl, a begging sound that you hope tells him that you need him to touch you, you need to feel the pleasure you know he’s capable of after the pain he’s just inflicted. Mercifully he obliges, pressing the calloused pad of his thumb back to your clit, slick gathered there from before, as he starts rubbing in fast, precise circles. You’ve been so worked up that you can already feel the coil tightening in your tummy, and you know Joel can sense it as well, the way your hips are moving in time to his movements and the way you’re arching your back off the bed are a dead giveaway. 

You can feel yourself reaching that peak, so fucking close to tipping over the edge when he tears his hand away from your core and sits back, watching as you try and move back towards him, moaning in frustration at being left high and dry. You’re wriggling about, trying to close your thighs to rub them together to get yourself off, when he pushes a wide palm into your belly. He’s so powerful in the best way, stilling your movements immediately as you look up at him, face serious. 

“Remind me what the second thing on your list was this mornin’, baby?” He asks, voice as innocent as pie. 

You’re wracking your brain, lust making you more confused about what the fuck he’s even talking about. Then it dawns on you, what you’d told him downstairs. Felt horny so I got myself off. 

“You’ve got a big brain baby,” He coos, one palm squeezing your thigh, “I know you remember, so go on, tell me what you did.” 

“I g-got myself off.” 

“And is that what good girls do?” He asks, hand ghosting back to your pussy, knuckles of his hand brushing over your skin there. 

“N-no?” You question. 

“That’s right,” He hums, fingers slipping between your folds once more to gather some of the insane amount of slick that’s pooling at your aching entrance, “And besides, gettin’ to come is a reward, and I ain’t sure you deserve that right now.” 

His thumb is back on your clit now, moving in exactly the same way as before, with just the right amount of pressure to be building you back up. It feels so fucking good already and you know the way it feels when he tips you over the edge, you know how delicious it is and God, you want it so bad. 

“Please Joel,” You beg, all throaty and lust-filled, “I’ll be so good, I promise.” 

“Maybe ya should’a thought about that earlier,” He growls, “Before you came without me, thought you could do it better than me, huh?” 

“No!” You exclaim, because that’s definitely not true, you could never make yourself feel the way he does, “Oh God, please Joel.” You’re so fucking close, just a few more passes of his thumb and you could do it, you know you could, but so does he, which is why he’s tearing his thumb away from you again. 

You actually cry now, tears of frustration building in the corner of your eyes, threatening to spill over as you thrash around on the bed, hissing when the rope around your wrist digs in but not caring all that much. 

“Quit your cryin’.” He chastises, hand on your hip to keep you still. 

You whimper, lip wobbling, trying to keep your cool. All you want is to reach out to him. You think if you could touch him, he would give you what you want, so you’re pretty sure that’s why he’s got you tied to the damn bed, to keep himself in check, to see this through, because Joel Miller always folds to you when you put your hands on him, weak man that he is. 

“You’re being so mean.” You cry out as he shifts, lying flat on his stomach so you can feel his breath on your aching pussy. 

“You were the one beggin’ to get punished baby,” And it smarts because it’s true, “I’m only givin’ you what you wanted.” 

He leans forward, tongue licking a stripe through your pussy, all the way up to your clit where he sucks the little bud into his mouth, rolls it between his lips and then lets it pop from his mouth like an ice-pop. He flicks it with the tip of his tongue a few times and you suck in a breath, your fingernails digging painfully into the palm of your hands as you focus on trying to reach the cliff edge and fall over it this time. 

You’re holding your breath, hips working in time with the movements of his mouth, eyes screwed shut just trying to focus on how good it feels. You can hear the rustling of sheets, which means if you were to open your eyes and look down at him, you’d find him grinding himself into the bedsheets for his own relief. He pulls off you, and you’re about to curse him out when he speaks. 

“You wanna come, baby?” He asks, punctuating it with a flick of his tongue. 

“Oh please Joel,” You beg, and even to your ears it sounds wrecked and pathetic, “Please let me come.” 

Then, you’re shrieking because the palm that has dealt so much damage to your ass this evening, has now swatted your aching cunt, “No.” He says simply, pushing himself back up and onto his knees. 

He pulls his t-shirt over his head, throwing it somewhere behind him. You’re squirming as he shucks off his boxers, moving awkwardly to kick them off, before he’s mounting your body, those strong thighs straddling your chest as his throbbing cock rests just millimetres from your mouth. He reaches down, let’s his fingers tangle in your hair as he pulls your head forward roughly. Your mouth, like muscle-memory takes over, opens, and the head of his cock slips over your tongue. You can already taste the salty beads of pre-cum as he shuffles forward a little, easing his cock into your mouth until it’s hitting the back of your throat. 

He holds your head steady with the fingers tangled in your hair as he fucks your throat. The sound is obscene, practically pornographic, the wet sounds that come as the head of his cock meets the back of your throat on every thrust. He pulls out of your mouth every now and then, when he’s thrust too hard and makes you gag on him, but fucking hell it’s turning you on so much. You can feel yourself literally dripping onto the sheets, you don’t think anything has ever made you this wet before. 

He pulls his cock out of your mouth one last time, a string of saliva connecting him to your mouth until he pulls away enough for it break, laying wet across your chin and down your neck. Joel shuffles back down your body and you think finally, you’re going to get some relief. 

He hooks your knees over his arms, pushing them forward to your chest as his throbbing cock slips through your folds. He rocks his hips a few times, the bulbous head of him swiping over your clit, before he unexpectedly buries himself into your soaked cunt in one go. 

You actually sob at the feeling. You’ve been so empty all night, and now you’re so full of him, so crowded by his body, that you finally feel some kind of relief. He’s still for a moment – once it would have been to get you used to the heft of him inside you, but right now, you know it’s because he’s just as fucked as you are, and he wants to make sure you’ve truly learnt your lesson. 

Once he’s collected himself, he sets a bruising pace. Cock dragging out of your slick heat and slamming back into you. He revels in the way your tits bounce with every thrust, so much so that he leans forward and bites at the flesh, sucking bruises into your skin as he pounds himself right into the very depth of you. 

“Doin’ so good for me baby,” He groans out against your skin, sucking your nipple into his mouth, letting it go with a wet pop as he pushes himself back up for me, “Takin’ your punishment so well.” 

The angle he’s got you folded into means the head of his cock is brushing against the spongy spot inside you every time. Your pussy is clenched so tightly around him that it’s a miracle he’s held on for this long. He finally brings his thumb back to your clit and you’re begging this time that he’ll let you finish, because if he doesn’t you’re pretty sure you might actually die. 

“Joel,” You mewl, “I’m g-gonna – holy shit – m’gonna come.” 

“Go on baby,” He finally relents, you let out a sob of relief, “Come on my cock for me, like a good girl.” 

It’s so overwhelming when it finally happens. Your vision blurs and blood rushes to your ears, blocking out any sound that isn’t the beating of your pulse. Your pussy clenches impossibly tight around him as pleasure finally floods through every inch of your body. You feel yourself literally gush on his cock, soaking his skin, your skin, the bedsheets beneath you. You think you might even scream his name as your body convulses and shakes, arches up into him. 

You’re slightly aware of him pulling his cock from inside you, letting your knees drop. You can hear the slap of his fist on his skin as he fists his cock, and then he’s growling out your name, his cum spattering over your tummy, lying hot and thick on your sticky skin. It’s silent for a good few moments, the only thing you can focus on is the sound of you both sucking in breath to your lungs and the burn of the rope around your wrists. 

“Look at me.” Joel demands, and you do, your eyes meeting his, which are almost black with lust, his face flushed, sweat pooling at his hairline. 

He drags a finger through the pools of his cum, bringing his fingers to your mouth. He presses them into the flat of your tongue, letting you swallow, which continues until you’ve cleaned every inch of him from your skin. He then works quickly to untie the knots that have you bound to the bed, freeing your skin from the burning feeling that’s settled there. 

“Stay still,” It’s still demanding, but it’s softer now, as he gets off the bed, dropping the rope to the floor, “I’ll be right back.” 

He comes back moments later with a glass of water and a cool cloth. He rolls you over onto your tummy, pressing the cool material to your ass, trying to soothe the red welts of his handprints that have already started to form. He presses soothing, open-mouth kisses to the skin before he rolls you back over onto your back. 

He moves you because you’re pliant now, to rest against the pillows, handing you the water to drink as he runs the last of the cooling cloth over your lower tummy and through the folds of your spent cunt, then it’s discarded to the floor with everything else, and you’re being pulled to his chest, kiss pressed to your forehead. 

“Too much?” He asks quietly, checking to make sure he hasn’t crossed some line with you. 

“Just perfect.” You reply, eye-lids heavy with sleep. 

He brings one of your wrists to his mouth, letting his tongue lick soothing stripes along the reddened skin there, kissing every now and then, but keeping you pressed tightly to his chest, you own arm draped around his waist.

“You learn your lesson?” He asks then. 

“Probably not,” You hum against the sweaty skin of his chest, “I don’t think you’re ever going to fuck the attitude outta me, Miller.” 

[justin-chapmanswers]

Sorry if this is a bit rude, but how do you consider yourself as he/they or they/he? I am questioning my sexuality and gender at the moment and seeing you (idk if ur lgbt) makes me find comfort, if you can, how did you realise you were not straight and how I can find mine! :3

Oh golly uh. Let's see if I can keep this short and then bury it under other answers. <3

Labels are fun cause they're so funky and ever-changing as you learn more about yourself. So, firstly, don't stress about finding something so perfect right away and bounding yourself to it. You're still you, any way you word it.

Gender-wise I'm in a state of def preferring they but being chill enough with he. Like whateverrrrr. It's hard to get around societal norms and perceptions, so my expectations are calibrated accordingly. I of course feel that for people who feel more strongly about a specific label, it's important to fight for it to be recognized whenever you're in a safe-enough environment to do-so. But for me, the concept of pushing for a specific label or, even more-so, of seeing other people pushing others to use a specific label for me is veryyyy anxiety-inducing. I tend to avoid spotlight when possible. But at the same time, a lot of it just comes down to not wanting to be grouped/perceived gender-ly at all. I tend to use the label agender. But I'm sure a lot of people have similar experiences with different labels. I just, ya'know, wanna be me.

Gender exploration is funnnn. There's no one right way to learning about yourself. Some people know from a young age, almost inherently, some people figure things out a lot later. It's never too late. Some people learn with outfits and styles, some with looking to people/characters who they want to be perceived more-like, some with experimenting through new names/pronouns and feeling-out how being called different things makes them feel. If you have friends you feel safe around with all of this, on or offline, can't hurt to say "hey would ya mind calling me x-name or y-pronoun for a bit?" And if you don't like it, you don't need to stick with it. But really be cognizant of it feels right to you.

Then on the romantic orientation side, that's been a much longer journey haha. I was calling myself straight through middle schooler, bi for a bit in early high school, gay starting in later high school, then for a long while. Nowadays I just say queer. Labels make things easier, until they don’t haha. For me, if you imagine a scale of feminity to masculinity with like little pegs running down the line from 0 to 10, with 5 in the middle, I tend to find myself attracted to people in like the 4 to 8 range? Something like that. But even that's not perfectly consistent! There's never going to be a perfect word for everything. That's why I like queer as an umbrella term. It's also just a cute word, I don't make the rules.

Hence earlier when I mentioned that you should just feel free to keep it open and not close yourself off. Maybe nothing'll change, but what if something does? But of course, I assume you're asking from more of a place of just starting this journey. I'm trying to get my mind back to where I started with that. I think the first time the not-straight realization hit was when a friend of mine didn't show up to an event and I was all like "why am I so miserably sad that he wasn't there?" And then a lightbulb appeared over my head and out-loud I said "aw damnit." And then things have been weird and confusing ever since.

But in terms of giving advice, it's hard to not just be like "uhh idk just hang out with people that makes you feel gooey." But obviously it's more complicated than that. A decade ago, I was taking random "am I gay" tests online. But they're kinda silly cause the questions on those would ask me to fill in information about how I feel, but how am you supposed to know how I feel without the test telling me how I feel??????? So realistically, I'd advise private journaling. Just take some time, even five minutes. Start now. Write out who you are drawn to, in any sense, and how they make you feel. Especially if you're like me and have trouble self-reflecting unless I force myself to. Like. In a Tumblr post.

There's so many ways to explore. It's also nice to look at relationships in life and media and seeing if you connect to any relationship or long to fit into someone's place within a relationship. That's why representation matters, baybeeeee! But also, ya'know, talking to people goes a long way to learning about yourself. Trial 'n error let's gooooo.

And above all: you got this.

[darylmydix]

THE SCARS WE SHARE | daryl dixon - 002

summary: you were the only good thing daryl had in his life. bonded by similar trauma, you suffered abuse at the hands of your stepmother, just as daryl had suffered from his own father. when you finally decide to escape your abusive home life, you're forced to leave behind your best friend in the process. now with the world in an apocalyptic state, you're left wondering if daryl was even alive.

pairings: daryl dixon x f!reader.

warnings: smut, violence, blood and gore, unrequited love, best friends to lovers, mentions of s/a, mentions of abuse, mention of suicidal thoughts/attempts, mention of drug use, use of deadly weapons, fluff, angst, slow burn, strong language, kidnapping, coercion, seasons 5-11, 18+, minors dni.

word count: 1.5k

author’s note: sorry if your name isn’t in the taglist and you asked to be. it wouldn’t let me tag some of you.

You lift your hand, blocking out the sun’s gleaming rays as you watch Daryl mutilate an opossum, removing the poor creature's insides. “Can’t you cook it or something?” You scrunch your face in pure disgust.

Daryl scoffs, eyeing you. “This ain't a damn five star restaurant, princess.” He says as he pops a piece into his mouth. “Well I am not eating that.” You shake your head. Daryl shrugs, making no complaints. “More for me.”

Eating dead animals was a cakewalk for someone like Daryl. He’s had to learn how to survive during times like this when his father would kick him out. At least he knew how to hunt and track thanks to the old man. The one good thing the bastard has done for his son.

You observe in silence while Daryl pigged out like he was enjoying a fine dine meal, even going as far as licking his fingers. “I don’t understand how you can eat raw animal guts. Aren’t you afraid of rabies?”

“It’s survival,” he states. “The world could go to shit one day where we ain’t got a choice but to eat crap like this. Beggars can’t be choosers.”

The thought of that makes you sick to your stomach. You didn’t even wanna imagine a world where you’d have to tear apart defenseless animals to save yourself from hunger. It just wasn’t in your human nature to hurt anything innocent. “I don’t think I could do that no matter the circumstances.” You admit.

“Then you sure as shit better hope the world don’t ever come to an end. You’d be the first to get taken out.” He jokes, but there’s some seriousness to his words. Compared to Daryl’s hardass exterior, you were as soft as a plush toy.

Two different personalities; but that’s why your friendship seemed to work so well. Daryl needed something delicate in his life to take the brute in him down a peg, and you needed a brute to protect you from what you’re too delicate to protect yourself against.

“Maybe you’re right...” You sigh, fiddling with your fingers, well aware of your fragility.

“Best be lucky ya got me then.” He says, standing up, while wiping his bloody hands on his pants. You look up at him, a smile forming your face. Daryl avoids your gaze, which he often does when he says anything remotely soft or caring to you. It was just the brooding man in him wanting to hide any emotional connection, but you knew he cared about you. And he knew you knew.

“I am lucky I have you.” You say softly. His eyes finally lock with yours for a split second before he simply nods and changes the subject. “C’mon, I’ll walk you home.” He holds out his hand for you to take. You bite the inside of your cheek, rejecting the gesture. “I’m not in a rush to go back there.” You glowered.

“I know, but I ain’t tryin’ to get you into trouble again.” Daryl reminds you of the day that not only did you suffer consequences, but he did as well. Last time you avoided going home, you returned only to find cop cars outside of your house and your stepmother pretending to be oh so worried about you.

“Him!” She shouted, pointing to Daryl. “Arrest that inbred thug! He kidnapped my daughter!”

You tried to plead with the officers, telling them that wasn’t true but given the criminal history of the Dixon family it fell upon deaf ears and you had to sadly watch as your best friend was forced into a squad car. Fortunately he didn’t get into much trouble by the police, and was taken home.

His father was another story though.

You sigh, taking his hand and the brunette lifts you off the ground. “For the record, I’m only going because I don’t wanna get you in trouble again.” You inform him. Daryl scoffs. “Yeah whatever.”

“There it is. The house of horrors.” You mumble, staring ahead at the home that no longer brought you joy. “Need me to stick around a bit? Watch over the house?” Daryl suggests, and you look at him with a raised brow. “You’re gonna stakeout my house? What good would that do?” You ask.

“First prick I see walk up there’ll get his ass kicked, that’s what good it’ll do.” He spat. You could feel the anger radiating off of him; you shake your head. “You and Merle got it bad with assault,” Daryl glares at you in response. “If you just a walk up and kick whatever sick fuck comes to my door to get his jollies off then all my stepmom’ll do is call the police and have you arrested for stalking and battery.”

Daryl made a ‘tsk’ sound. “Pigs would be givin’ me a medal if they knew the fuck was goin’ on in there. What those assholes and that bitch was doin’.” He was passionate about your situation, and you appreciated it because you felt the same when it came to him and his own. “Hell am I supposed to do?”

You put your hand on his shoulder, which makes him tense slightly before he’s calm. “Nothing. Like I said, it’s just our reality. Go home, Daryl. Eat a meal better than opossum. For me, please.” You giggle a bit.

“You sure?” He asks.

“That I want you to eat a meal better than opossum? Pretty sure.”

The brunette scowls at your joke. “No. That you want me to go.”

You knew what he meant, but you often deflected questions like that because in the end what you wanted didn’t really matter. Stay or go, your position was all the same. “Yeah. Go home.” You give his shoulder a gentle squeeze before turning to walk away. “Hey,” Daryl calls out, and you look back at him. “I’ll wait out here for a bit.”

You smile, shaking your head. “You’re a stubborn bastard.”

“Yeah, well it takes one to know one.”

You roll your eyes, turning away once again to walk home. You pull your keys from your sweater pockets as you get to the door, but it was suddenly ripped open with your stepmother standing there eyeing daggers at you. “The hell have you been? I almost had to call the law and report you missing again.”

“I’m an adult now, Sandra...”

“Like I give a damn. Get your dumbass in here.” She pointed inside with her thumb. You sigh, stepping into the house. Your stepmom pokes her head out, noticing Daryl standing there on the sidewalk. “What the hell are you doing by my house, you yokel?” She hissed.

“I was walkin’ her home, somebody’s gotta make sure she’s okay.” Daryl spat back. Your stepmother chuckled. “Well, aren't you quite the gentleman.” She snarked. “Well she’s here now, so why don’t you take your hillbilly ass back to the trailer park where you belong and get the hell away from my property before I call the cops.” She slams the door, getting the last word.

You peer at Daryl through the living room window, mouthing for him to ‘just go’. You could see him struggling within himself with the decision before he heads off. Your stepmother shuts the curtains, glaring at you. “Don’t you ever bring that redneck here again or I’ll make you regret it.”

You swallow the lump in your throat, holding back tears. “What do you have against him? He is the only thing in this world that I have that cares about me.”

She laughed mockingly. “You think he cares about you? You’re not even worth a damn to care about. The only thing you’re good for, honey, is making me money to keep this damn roof over our head. And if that little bastard isn’t helping support that, then he has no business here. Next time I see him I’ll get a restraining order and make sure he’ll never step foot here again, do you understand?”

You don’t respond, tears now falling down your face. She roughly grabs your arm, digging her nails into your skin. You yelp in pain. “Do you understand?!” She repeats. “Yes!” You cry out. She lets go of you, throwing your arm from her grasp. “Now go shower. We’ve got a guest coming later tonight.”

You quickly rush to your bedroom, slamming the room door shut. You pace around your room, wiping tears from your eyes. You were full of different emotions. Anger, sadness, sorrow, hate, agony. You wanted to just give up on this life. You had no willingness to live.

You open your drawer, digging through your clothes until you find the razor you keep in your drawer. You eye the tiny blade, twisting it around in your finger. ‘It could just end here’. You thought.

But then the sudden flash of Daryl came into your mind.

Like it always does.

You threw the razor atop of your dresser, the unwillingness fading away. “Daryl Dixon the things I do for you.” You mutter to yourself.

Taglist:

@daryldixmedown, @supernaturalstilinski, @vampiresluv, @myassisasolarsystem, @mosstheshoeshoethemoss, @scripteria, @moonlightreader649, @creepumiku, @filmsbyblair, @ginger-haired-queen, @darylsdollie

[deanbrainrotwritings]

—  SOUTHERN CONSTELLATIONS

SUMMARY : part II of trends and phases. there’s nothing quite like taking dean just the way he takes you. 

PAIRING : dean winchester x fem!reader

CHARACTERS : none

WARNINGS/TAGS :  explicit(18+), smut, pegging, hair pulling, sexy massage, anal fingering, anal sex, somewhat safe sex practices, lube, and cum as lube (come play?) eh

WORD COUNT : 2.5k

A/N : pierce the veil song title. heheh, heheheh, HEHEHEHEH. I’m sleepy actually, enjoy! writing smut is so hard, but that’s okay. for me and you, most of all, @pump-ya-breaks XXXX

Dean had a hot back.

Who knew backs could be attractive? Not her, that’s for sure. It’s the last thing she would imagine being attractive about a person. 

But here she was, biting her lip, tracing the planes of his freckled back with her warm hands. Pressing her fingertips into the dip of his spine made him moan quietly and shiver, his arms tensed as he gripped the pillow beneath his face. 

She smoothed her hands up the hard muscles of his back, thumbs pressing into knots. He groaned loudly, the sound vibrating through her hands, and her pussy just absorbed every sound he made, wet, pulsing, and hot with need for him. 

She slid her hands down, moving them to his sides, down his narrow hip, then pressed into the dimples above his ass. She hummed softly, dropping down to kiss the nape of his neck. 

“Still stressed, baby?” She murmured, ghosting her lips across his broad shoulders. 

“Just horny,” Dean told her, his voice rough and hot with arousal. She inhaled sharply, kissing her way down his spine to playfully squeeze his ass. 

“So am I.” She draped herself dramatically over his back and nibbled on his earlobe. He squirmed, chuckling softly into the pillow, and reached behind him to slap his hand over her ass. “You sure?” 

He leaned over his side, causing her to slide off his back slightly. She laughed, and clung to him, nuzzling her face into his neck before trailing her lips to his. 

“I want this,” he reassured her quietly, pecking her lips, “thinking about the last time turns me on,” he admitted. She smiled at him softly and kissed him again, deeply, pushing up so she could kiss him properly. 

She wrapped her hand around Dean’s neck, fingertips pressing into the veins that carried his pulse. Fast and heavy, his heartbeat thrummed against her fingers. She moaned softly and swiped her tongue across his lips, his little, opened-mouthed moan letting her taste the whiskey flavour on his tongue.

“Please,” he moaned, dropping his face into her pillow, and grinding his hips into the bed. 

She licked her lips of his saliva and giggled, “me first.” She bit his meaty shoulder roughly, moaning at the sound of his aroused hiss. She placed one final kiss behind his ear and pulled away, taking the new, beige strap-on she planned on using for him.

“What do.. what do you mean?” He frowned, turning over onto his back to watch her. He tilted his head and licked his lip, a cute smirk on his lips. 

“You don’t mind, right?” She teased, mirroring his position, legs parted wide. 

“Um,” he chuckled, his eyes flickering away from her face to the way she teased her wetness with the dildo. “‘Course not, I, uh,” Dean chewed on his lip, grabbing her ankles to place them outside his legs, opening her up even more. “I don’t mind at all.” 

She scooted closer to him with a flirtatious smile and wrapped her fingers around his wrist to bring his hand to the dildo connected to a harness. “Why don’t you… help me?”  She leaned back on her hands and held his gaze, wiggling her hips to encourage him.

“Yes, ma’am, anything for you,” Dean grinned boyishly, sliding the dildo through her soaked folds. 

“Hmm, you’re always so good to me,” she praised, watching him focus on repeatedly rubbing her clit with the tip of the dildo after sliding it through her slick heat. “Let’s get to the fun part,” she panted, which made him lift a brow. “Make me finish, I wanna get started on you,” she moaned. 

“Whatever you want, princess.” Dean clicked his tongue against his teeth, repositioning himself with his mouth on her clit. He gently pushed the dildo into her, tilting it inside her so it pressed against her walls, brushing against the sensitive spots he knew resided there. 

“Always going all out,” she laughed breathlessly, brushing his messy hair lovingly as he circled her swollen clit with his hot tongue. He hummed softly, gazing up at her through his thick lashes with a smirk on his face. “Your face looks perfect… right here,” she teased, legs twitching as he shoved the toy perfectly and quickly into her squelching entrance. 

“This really turns you on, too,” he mumbled against her clit, then he began sucking on it, knowing he’s got her right where he wants her. 

“Oh, fuck… Dean,” she moaned, lowering her body onto the bed. Her body focusing on the sensation of the constant bush against her sweet spot and the sparks his tongue sent up her body from stimulating her clit. 

Dean squeezed the inside of her thigh and thrusted the toy into her wet pussy, shallowly and roughly. Pressing his mouth closer to her sex, he flicked and sucked her clit, letting her feel as much of him as she wanted as he brought her to her climax. 

She gripped his short hair tightly, keeping him in place as she shuddered, her orgasm blowing her completely. Body tense and shaking beneath his mouth, breathy moans escaping her throat, his name chanted like an ancient song as she fell apart. Her walls squeezing and gushing around the harnessed toy. 

“No foreplay,” he chuckled, lifting his face from her now sensitive vulva. She basked in the warmth of her orgasm, calming her mind, her heart, as he licked his lips of her release. He slowly pulled the dildo out of her and watched it glisten with her cum. 

“Existing in the same time and space as you is foreplay enough,” she said breathlessly, taking his face gently. He leaned into her touch, green eyes hiding behind his eyelids, relaxing in her tender caress. 

“Fair enough,” he murmured, rising up her body to press his lips against hers. She pushed upwards, guiding him to lay on his back once more, her hands touching, pressing, squeezing every inch of his body. His eyes remained closed, relishing the feeling of her mouth and hands roaming over his body. 

“My love,” she whispered lovingly against his mouth, reaching over to the nightstand where she had lube and a box of white medical gloves to fit her petite hand size. 

“Yes,” he moaned, grasping her face to kiss her as she blindly pulled out a glove from the box. She hummed, smiling against his mouth at the enthusiastic kiss, and slid the glove onto her hand. 

“On your tummy, pretty boy,” she ordered playfully, pulling away from his plump lips with a gentle laugh. He nodded with a grin, watching her gloved hand travel down between her legs. 

“Oh, fuck,” he murmured, turning over onto his stomach as she collected her arousal and her cum from within her walls. He waited patiently with his chin on the pillow and his arms resting under the pillow. 

She grabbed his ass, squeezing one cheek to expose his puckered hole. He gasped, excitement coursing through his veins with every breath and every beat of his heart. Her warm, wet fingers traced the hole, and heat flared up his cheeks.

“Dean?” She checked in quietly, watching his back flex as he gripped the pillow and lowered his face into the softness. She continued to tease the ring with cum-coated, gloved fingers that made him grind into the bed. 

“Good,” he reassured her, squirming, lifting his ass invitingly. She smiled, pushing her fingers into him, observing the muscles of his back as she swirled her fingers around the inside of his tight hole. “So good,” he moaned, pushing his ass back, almost lifting up on his knees to force her fingers deeper.

“Patience,” she murmured, but indulged him anyway. She reached over for the lube and expertly pried the bottle open with her thumb, dropping a good amount of liquid on the rest of her fingers and around his asshole. 

“I need you,” he whined, squirming. She licked her lips, his hole squeezing her fingers as she pushed deeper into him. She mumbled a ‘no’, pumping her fingers into him to prep him, coating the inside of him with cool lube, wasting no time in massaging his prostate with an amazing precision and a look of determination on her face. “Please,” Dean begged, burying his face into the pillow only after pleading, one of his hands moving down where his hip was to clutch the sheets. 

He was tempted to touch himself, but refused, and whined into the pillow once more. 

“Fine,” she grinned, pumping her fingers into him until he inhaled sharply, watching the muscles of his back contract and then release when she pulled her fingers out of him. He panted beneath her, kept his eyes closed while listening to the sound of her glove being removed and thrown into the garbage. 

The jingle of buckles from the strap-on made him squirm excitedly, the clicks of her securing and adjusting the harness made his cock twitch. She shifted behind him, grabbing his hip in one hand to angle his hips properly, pressing the tip of the dildo into his hole. He braced himself as she teased his perineum and then moved back up to his rim.

She just barely pushed the tip of the toy into him, sage coloured nails digging into his hip. He groaned, reaching blindly for his pillow and shoved it beneath his hips. She hummed softly, watching his back as she pushed deeper into him.

“You’re so good, Dean,” she praised, pulling out of him slightly then pushing deeper. He moaned breathily in response, leaning on his arm beneath the pillow to look back at her, hot and naked, and perfect for him. “Keep taking it, baby,” she murmured, licking her lips, gazing down between their bodies as he stretched around the toy, nearly filled all the way, “just like that.” He moaned loudly, his eyes fluttering shut, dropping his forehead once more into the pillow.

“Fuck,” Dean grunted, his hole fluttering around the toy when she pushed all of it into him. 

“There, now my cum will be inside you,” she grinned mischievously, sliding one hand from the top of his firm ass to the centre of his broad, freckled shoulders. 

“Holy shit, babe, please,” Dean moaned, urging her to fuck him.  

“Please what?” She teased, dragging her hands down to grasp his hips, pulling his ass flush against her hips. 

“Oh,” he grunted, his cock throbbing as she ground her hips into him, cool leather pressing into the warm flesh of his butt. “Please, fuck me,” he breathed out, wiggling his ass cutely. 

She chuckled, pulling her hips back. A choked moan rolled through Dean, lips parting in anticipation of her rough thrust back into him, chin tipping up from the pillow. He grunted once her hips slapped against his ass, and he dropped his head back down, reaching beneath his body to squeeze his cock. 

“There are a million ways I could fuck you, Dean,” she panted, thrusting roughly into him. He just moaned in response, breathing heavily as he slowly fisted his cock, the leaking tip brushing delightfully against the sheets. “I could bend you over the impala next time,” she suggested smugly. 

Dean laughed breathlessly, grunting as she continually slammed into him, the dildo stretching his hole, massaging his prostate perfectly. One of her hands moved up into his soft hair, pulling roughly on brownish strands until he whined, and pressed his cheek into the pillow instead. 

She gazed down at the side of his face, the dark flush around his neck, up to his cheeks, and his ears. His lips were parted, gasping for breath, moaning pleas for speed and of her name. Occasionally he bit down on them hard, grunting and groaning, focusing on her touch, the pinch of her nails on his hip, the sting in every tug of his hair. His brows were furrowed, eyes screwed shut to focus on the pleasure she made him feel. 

“Or maybe… you can ride me inside the backseat,” she proposed, releasing his hip, her hands skimming up the taut and tightening muscles of his back. He squirmed and moaned her name again, his cock sliding into his tight fist with every thrust of her hips. “Cowboy,” she teased, “I think I’d like that.” 

He chuckled, feeling her shift behind him. Her knees spread his thighs farther apart and she released her grip on his hair to lean back, both hands on his hip to fuck him harder and faster. A strained grunt from Dean rang through her ears, the wind knocked out of his lungs in surprise.

“Fuck, I love you,” he moaned, the final coherent phrase he uttered as she hit the perfect spot inside him repeatedly. His mind went empty, the pleasure felt like warm honey being poured through his veins, building up faster and faster. Until finally, he came on the sheets, floaty and full of love, he moaned her name. Warm cum coated his hand and the sheets of his bed, shameless sounds of pure ecstasy echoed through his room. 

Dean collapsed onto the bed, spent and blissfully exhausted, breathing heavily. His heart pounded in his ears and he grinned against the pillow that smelled just like her raspberry hair. 

“I love you, too,” she murmured, lovingly pressing kisses on his shoulders. She used one hand to unbuckle the leather harness of the strap-on after she pulled out of him. He groaned softly at the loss, vaguely aware of her tossing it to the side, on the floor. “Good?” She asked softly, nibbling his earlobe.

“Mm, yeah,” Dean replied hoarsely, nuzzling the side of his face into her pillow. She hummed with amusement, trailing her lips along his jawline before planting a kiss on the corner of his mouth. “Got the sheets dirty,” he grumbled.

“Thank goodness I’ve got my own room,” she whispered, hilarity clear in her voice. She removed herself from his body and he turned over onto his back, pulling the pillow out from beneath him. 

“I’m invited, right?” He teased, playing with the sticky cum on his fingers. She laughed, admiring his body, her fingertips floating away from the bed to his hot skin. She grazed his nipple, sliding down to his ribcage, his soft stomach, his hipbone. Dean bit his lip, cheeks hot and pink, his breath turning shallow. 

“Sure,” she shrugged casually, gaze flickering up to his flushed face. “You’re beautiful,” she murmured, flattening her hand on his pelvis, slowly sliding down to wrap her hand around his half-hard cock. Dean groaned, wrapping his clean hand around hers, his thumb brushing lovingly against her knuckles. “Bath before bed?” She slowly slid her hand over his cock, thumbing the wet, sensitive head. 

“‘S long as you I get to taste your pretty pussy,” he grinned, only half-serious as he reached between her legs to tease her clit with sticky, cum-coated fingers.

“Sure,” she shrugged once more, gazing down at him nonchalantly. Dean lifted a brow at her half-hearted expression. Then, she cracked a smile and laughed, letting go of his cock to take his wrists and pull him out of bed. “Come on, sexy, we’ve got lots to do still.”

taglist

@rominaszh @livingdeadmak @lanassmarty @murdockscumsock @zepskies @candy-coated-misery0731 @stxrgazer03 @epsilonsagittarii @lyarr24 @spnfamily-j2 @globetrotter28 @deansbbyx @lickmybawls @jackles010378 @winchstrdean @deanwinchestersgirl87 @the-achievementhunter @deanfreakingwinchester @k-slla @madzzz0797 @laylaackles @fanfic-n-tabulous @kristophalis @mrlonelycat @taylortots-world @evznackles @ohnosy @juicyballsworld

main masterlist

dean winchester masterlist

dean’s 45th birthday celebration masterlist

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do not steal, plagiarise, translate, or republish my work on another platform

[justmeinadaze]

We're A Family Part 18 (Steddie X You)

A/N: This one is a wee bit different. They are experimenting in the bedroom but everyone is having a good time :)

Warnings: Dads Steddie and Mom Fem Y/N, SMUT, Pegging is the main thing here with all the regular smut that comes with these three, FLUFF and no angst!

Word Count: 4018

“So for handcuffs and a nightie, you drove two hours out of town?”, Eddie muses as he looks through the clothes at the sex store you three had traveled to. 

“I did because I love you.”, you grin. 

“Aw, that’s cute.” He smiles when you scrunch your nose playfully in his direction. “Is Harrington the test subject again or…?”

“I’m down for anything.”, Steve shrugs.

“Be careful what you say, baby.”, you sing as you hit him lightly with one of the whips you found. He chuckles as he jokingly wrestles it from your grasp and lifts you over his shoulder to carry you to where Eddie was browsing toys. 

“Are we that old? I don’t know what half this stuff is or for.”, the metalhead exhales as he picks up something random and flashes it towards you two before placing it back down. 

“What about this?”, you ask, showing them the strap on you found. “It’s a little intimidating.”

They hear your breathing stutter a bit as you continue to look at with fascination. “What’s intimidating? The thing itself or using it?”

“I mean…I’m not a guy. I’ve never had to…ya know.”

“Holy shit, Steven. It took about 8 years but we finally found something sexual that makes Y/N blush.”

Steve walks up behind you and wraps his arms around your waist as he leans his head on top of yours. “We can show you.”, he whispers making you lick your lips at his words. 

“O-okay.”

Eddie beams as he takes the box from your hands and bends down to kiss you. “So fucking cute.”

*** 

“Shit.”, Robin curses under her breath as Dylan beats her again for the thousandth time at his video game. “I’m not good at this! I have no hand/eye coordination.”

“All I hear are excuses.”, your son laughs. 

“Whatever. I’m going to hang out with the baby who doesn’t talk.”, she grins as she playfully pushes him to the side. 

“Mommy!”, Aurora shouts, running into your arms as you guys walk through the door. 

“Oh God.”, you brace as she jumps and you lift her into the air. “What’s going on, my love? Did you have fun with Robin?”

“Uh huh. Aunt Robin said a bad word.”

“Tattletale.”

“Why are you cursing in front of my kids?”, Steve teases as he plops himself down next to her on the sofa. 

“Why are your kids so mean? Especially that one.” She points towards Dylan who sticks his tongue out at her before focusing back on his game. “At least this one was nice to me. Weren’t you, James?”

He giggles and claps his hands at her smile. From Steve so far, James definitely inherited his big, beautiful grin and scrunched his tiny nose when he laughed which you absolutely adored. His hair was too short right now to see if he had the same smooth locks as his father but at the moment he seemed to be heading in that direction. 

“Can you say Robin? Roooobiiiiiiiiin.” Just like Ro had done when she was a baby, his only response was to headbutt her making her grunt jokingly as she passed the boy to her friend. “Alright that’s my queue to leave. See you buttheads later!”

After she left, you made dinner and then spent the rest of the evening relaxing with your family. Dylan sat in the corner with his headphones on as he strummed his guitar Eddie had given him from his own collection. You and Steve sat on the couch with your legs thrown over his while Eddie laid on the floor with James and Aurora as The Princess Bride played on TV.

“James…James…James, daddy’s hair isn’t like yours, dude. Ow.”, the metalhead whines as he tries to remain calm while the baby pulls at his hair. 

“James! No.”, Ro giggles. “You don’t pull hair. It not nice.”

“Yeah, tell him, sweetheart.”

“Mommy?” She calls your name and you answer with lighthearted hm. “When…when will I meet my…my true love?”

“Never. We’re going to lock you in a tower like Rapunzel.”

Steve tries to hide his laughter at Eddie’s joke as you make a face at his answer. “No, baby. I won’t let daddy do that.”

“You’ll have to catch me first, woman.”

You stick out your tongue as he chuckles. “I don’t know, Ro, when you’ll meet them but when you do I promise you’ll know.”

“How did you know?”

Both men’s eyes shimmer with delight and anticipation as they wait for your answer. 

“I just knew.”, you grin. 

“Oh, baby, come on. I know there’s more to it then that.”, Steve beams as you bite your bottom lip. 

“Was it love at first sight?”

“Yes.”, both boys responded in unison making you blush. Aurora looks at you with wide expectant eyes as she waits for your answer. 

“Yes, but mommy was hardheaded and had to make it complicated.”

“Comp-limated?”

“Complicated. Um, harder.”, Eddie explained. 

“Oh…why?”

“Because… I had Dylan and he was my main concern at the time. I wanted him to be happy.”

Her face furrows in confusion as she fully turns away from the tv. “I don’t get it.”

“What don’t you get, babe?”, Steve asks as he motions for her to come sit on his lap. 

“You…are Dylan’s dada…” Her tiny fingers point to his chest. “But, but, but mommy had him…before she met…met you and daddy?”

Eddie smiled when you heavily exhaled. 

“Oh, I was hoping we could skip the awkward questions stage.”, you mumble as you smirk. “Ed, you want to take this one?”

“Not really.”, he giggles. 

“Hey, Ro.”, Dylan calls her name and she shifts in her dad’s lap to face him. “You remember when you asked why dad calls grandpa Wayne instead of dad and we told you it was because grandpa took dad in when he was older than you?” She adamantly nods her head. “Kind of the same thing.”

“Ooooooooh…ok!”, Aurora exclaims as she shrugs her shoulders and shuffles back down to the floor to continue watching the movie.

“Are you a child spy or something? How do you do that?”, Eddie sarcastically asks as all three adults smile in his direction. 

“You people make it too complicated.”, he chuckles. “Just answer honestly.”

You toss a pillow in his direction that he blocks with his hand and tosses back. 

#############

“What are you smiling about over there?”, Steve asks as he comes into the bedroom and closes the door. 

“Dylan. I’m just always amazed at how smart he is, you know? I’m proud of him.”

“Yeah, he’s a good kid. Always has been.”

“I hope I didn’t make you guys feel bad with my answer to Aurora’s question. I WAS being honest. He was my main priority but I didn’t even think you’d be attracted to me. Two sexy single guys across the way from a single mom in the middle of a divorce…”

While you were talking, Eddie had come out of the bathroom and sat beside you on the bed. 

“I didn’t even really think about it until you came over that first time Charlie bailed on him.” You wrapped your arms around him as you leaned your chin on his shoulder. “You both made him happy. You made ME happy.”

The metalhead turned to kiss your forehead before wrapping his arms around you and lifting you on to his lap as he leaned back. 

“Ok, I’m done being sappy.” 

Steve laughs as he lays down beside the other man and takes your hand in his as he fiddles with your fingers. 

“I like when you get sappy.”, he grins. “That being said, did you two think about who the guineapig was going to be?”

“Why can’t it be both? Unless you think you can’t handle it, baby.” The way Eddie said that was in no way meant to be mocking. Since you got shy about it in the store and even now, they wanted to make sure you were comfortable. 

“God why does this make me nervous!?”, you giggle as you cover your face.

“Because you’re adorable.”, he smiled as he pulled your hands back down to his chest. “How about we go slow and we’ll talk with you the whole way through.”

“I like when you two talk to me especially since Stevie became a teacher. Sometimes you shift into that authoritative tone when your talking dirty and it’s hot.”

“I seriously didn’t even notice.”

“We did.”, Eddie chuckles as he grips your waist and flips you on to your back. “Why don’t you go get the thing while I get this beautiful girl ready?”

Steve playfully rolls his eyes as he gets up to look for the box you hid after coming home from the shop. The metalhead gently kisses you lips as his lifts off your shirt and runs his tongue down your body. 

“Just so fucking gorgeous. Isn’t she, Harrington?”

“Always.”, he winks.

As he slides off your pants with your panties, you squirm as he continues to kiss along your skin on the inside of your thigh, down your calf, and to your feet.

When his mouth wraps around your clit, your nerves melt away as stars cloud your vision. Eddie was always a master between your legs. You assumed it was because since he used his mouth 24/7 to talk to almost anyone and everyone that would listen, he could make it work for him during foreplay. He was also incredibly patient, slowing down and using every moment to taste every part of your sex, driving you wild. 

“Yes, Eddie, please.”

His palms came to up to press down your thighs, holding your legs open wide as he shoved his face deeper into you making you moan. Your fingers threaded through his hair as his tongue flicked in and out of your entrance occasionally shaking his head to allow his nose to brush against your nub. 

“Fuck, baby. Don…don’t stop. M’gonna cum.”

Your legs trembled in his grasp as the coil in your tummy snapped and you whimper his name, tugging at his wavy mane. 

“So fucking good.”, he murmured before glancing at the other boy. “Ready?”

“Yeah. Come here, honey.” Shakily, you slid of the bed and placed yourself between Steve’s legs at the edge. “Ok, step in here.” You cling to his shoulders as he guides your movements until the strap on is secure to your hips. “Good job, baby. Now this end goes inside of you. Let me know when you’re ready.”

“I’m ready.”

They both carefully watched your face as his hands held the base of the silicone material and eased it into your core. Your eyes fluttered closed as you moaned.

“Are you ok?”

“Yeah. You’re going—mmm—to laugh at me but it’s smaller than you two so it doesn’t physically hurt but—fuck—just the excitement of trying this…I feel like I’m going to cum again.”

They do laugh but not at you. They’d lying if they didn’t say they were ready to bust at any moment. Seeing you get nervous and giddy in the store made them hard mostly because they didn’t think they could have that effect on you anymore. Now that you were getting ready to use it and seeing your reaction had them struggling to keep any kind of control as their cocks pushed unbearably so against their pants. 

“Well, we have to get this cock ready since this side isn’t exactly smaller than we are.”

Spinning you around, he places you in his spot at the edge of the bed, removes his clothes, and sinks to his knees in front of you. Gripping the base, Steve spits on the tip of it making you groan at the action.

“How are you doing, princess?”, Eddie asks when the man wraps his lips around the toy and begins bobbing his head. 

“I-I can feel it. He’s making it move ev-every time he goes lower.”

The metalhead smirks as he brushes your hair back from your shoulder. “Deeper the better, right, babe? Go a little faster, Stevie.”

The man does what he suggests causing the dildo in your cunt to steadily move back and forth making you whine in pleasure.

“Fuck, Steve. Please…” Your fingers push through his hair as you pull it firmly making him mewl. Abruptly, you clenched your hand, holding him still as you thrust your hips forward making him gag and drool all over you. 

“Fuck me. That’s fucking hot. Don’t stop, Y/N. Keep-Keep fucking his face.”, Eddie moaned loudly as he pushed off his pants and rapidly began stroking his cock. “I need to cum, baby, I can’t wait.”

“St-Steve? Are you still ok?”, you asked and were met with a rush of his lips as he forcefully came up to passionately kiss you. 

“I’m so fucking fine, honey. Do that again. Make yourself cum.”

Placing your other hand in his hair, you clung to him as you thrust upwards, using him to chase your high. His own fingers dug into the meat of your hips guiding you till your vision was blinded and you came hard. Eddie whimpered next to you as you turned your head to see him release his seed on to his thighs. 

“Steve, baby. You, uh, you’ll have to go first. I need to recharge.”, the metalhead chuckles as he pats the bed beside him. 

Steve climbs up your body, kissing your sweaty frame along the way. “How do you want me?”

He smirks as your face becomes bright red and he leans down to softly kiss your lips. “Tell me, beautiful girl. How do you want to fuck me?”

“I want to see your face. I want to watch your face…” Nodding, he kisses you again before flipping over onto his back. “Eddie, can you help me?”

“Of course, sweetheart.” He gently moves you around till you’re in-between the other boy’s legs who in response opens and lifts them up for you, holding them up at the knee. With his palm on your lower back, he pushes you forward and as you take hold of the base of the toy, pressing it towards his entrance. “There you go, baby. You may feel a bit of resistance but that’s because pretty boy here is tight as fuck. Whenever you’re ready.”

Your eyes meet Steve’s silently asking for permission and when he nods again, you slowly begin to inch forward. 

“Oh fuuuuck…”, he moans as his head falls back against the mattress. “Ke-keep going, babe. It feels really fucking good.”

Your mouth falls open in a silent moan as you watch him squirm and fall apart underneath you. This is because of you and it’s making you clench tightly around the toy inside of you. 

“Yes, baby, you look so fucking sexy right now. You don’t—mmm—you don’t even know. Please…please, Y/N. Take me, baby, I’m yours.”

Your head hangs as you begin thrusting into him until fingers find your chin and tilt your eyes towards the man under you. 

“You said you wanted to watch him, sweetheart. He’s so handsome when he comes apart like this isn’t he?” Eddie leans over Steve’s cock and a line of spit falls on the tip before he reaches down to stroke him, matching your pace. 

“Oh fuck you, Munson.”, he groans as he cranes his neck back.

The metalhead grins as he leans in close and continues to whisper things in your ear. 

“You’re doing so good, baby. So fucking sexy taking him like this with your beautiful tummy glistening as you pump in him. Jesus, your entire body is gorgeous, just like his. Look at what you’re doing to him. You should try rolling your hips and press deeper into him.”

His hand guided you down to Steve’s chest who promptly encases you in his arms as you did what Eddie suggested. 

“Yes, baby. Faster, please. I’m gonna cum. Cum with me.”

Your sides began to burn as you did what he requested but you didn’t care. As your forehead fell on his, his pants warmed your face and you quickly covered his mouth as he moaned loudly. You both came at the same time, your body shuttering against his as you felt his spend hit your stomach. Leaning back, you continued to stroke him, elongating his orgasm as much as you could. 

“Ok, ok, please…please.” Steve reached for your hand as he begged you to stop. 

When you gradually pulled out, you collapsed against Eddie’s chest who in turn fell back against the pillows as he played with your hair and murmured praises.

“You did amazing, princess. Look at him. He’s in heaven right now because of you. Are you ok? Do you need some water or anything? Actually, I don’t know why I’m asking.” He reaches for the glass near the bed and places the rim near your lips. “Drink this, baby.”

You do as he says relishing the cool liquid as it slides down your throat. 

“I want to make you feel good to.”

“We can do again another time—”

“Please, Eddie.”

He chuckles as he kisses your forehead. “Ok, come here, my love.”

Turning you around he places your back against the headboard with pillows behind you so you’d be more comfortable. Steve sluggishly moved out of the way as you extended your legs, lying beside you both as he continued to watch with hooded eyes. 

“Alright, sweetheart, you did so well but I’m going to take more of the control here, ok?”

“I’m ok with that.”, you grin as he straddles his legs on either side of you.  

Reaching behind him, he took hold of the toy and slowly began descending onto it. 

“Fuck me.”

“D-Do you need lube or anything?”

Eddie aggressively shook his head, his hair blocking his face as he continued what he was doing till you felt his body against yours. Keeping most of the weight on his knees he began bouncing on top of you and a strangled moan left both your lips. Your fingers extended up to trail down his chest to his stomach as you took in the sight of him. Is this how they felt when you were riding them?

“F-fuck, Eddie. You look so—mmm—so good.”

Steve’s own fingers reached out trail the sweat down your throat to your tits as he played with your nipples, pinching them between his thumb and index making you whimper. You don’t know if it was seeing him like this or having the other boy touch you the way he was but your second wind suddenly came and took over. 

Grabbing Eddie’s waist, you pushed him off of you and to the side onto his tummy, climbing on top of him, and motioning for him to spread his legs. 

He moaned at your confidence, doing what you asked, and grunting as you slid into his ass. Leaning forward, you thrust your hips as his arm flew back to press his fingers into your thighs trying to guide you. 

“I want you to feel…what he felt…” You kissed along his shoulders, moving some of his hair away from his face. “Tell me what—mmm—what you need, baby. Please.”

“H-harder.”, was all he could get out, his jaw going slack when you pounded your hips into his. 

Pushing up on to your palms, you watched as Steve slid his hand into the boy’s hair behind his head and brought his lips to his. Their tongues mingled together as you fell against his back, rolling your hips as he groaned.

“Fuck, fuck, fuck.”, Eddie whined against the other man’s lips as he came, rutting his hips between you and the mattress. As he pushed back against you, it was enough to send you over the edge again as you pressed your face into his back and came as well. 

After pulling out of him, you tumbled on to your back as you both tried to catch your breath. Your hand blindly slid between your legs as you maneuvered the toy out of your now aching, overstimulated hole. When you finally opened your eyes to glance their way, you found them drunkenly smiling at you with half lidded eyes; Eddie still on his stomach with Steve resting his cheek between the other man’s shoulder blades. 

“I may need to start doing some crunches or something because my abs are sore.” Their grins grow as you giggle. “Did I do okay?”

The metalhead’s arm shot out to tug you closer to them, resting it across you as his palm pets your sweaty head.

“Better than.”, he murmured as Steve nodded in agreement. 

Silently, they roll out of bed and pick you up, bringing you to the bathroom to get clean. As the tub filled up, Eddie sat on the edge and helped you step out of the harnesses of the strap on. Once everything was ready, the three of you piled in as you cocooned yourself against Steve’s chest. 

“How did it feel for you?”, he asked as his palms roamed along your arms.

“I liked it a lot. More so watching what it did to you two. Did you like it because of the toy or because of me?”

“Both.”, Eddie answers. “You became more confident with it. It was sexy.”

“I wouldn’t say confident.”, you laugh. “I just wanted to make you feel good. I—”

“It felt good seeing us cum and knowing it was because of you.”, Steve finished for you. “We know the feeling.”

“I love you both…so much.”

“We love you to, sweetheart.”

The baby monitor in the bedroom pulls everyone from their blissful haze as James’s loudly comes through.

“I got him.” Steve rises as he grips your arm and helps you out as Eddie follows. 

While he changes the sheets, you quickly pull on some underwear and one of the metalhead’s shirts before hiding the strap-on in the bathroom making a mental note to clean it in the morning.

Right as you emerge back into the bedroom, Steve comes back with a wide-eyed baby who promptly falls into your arms. 

“Oof. What’s wrong, baby boy? You miss us?”

Once the bed becomes available, you climb into it and place James on your lap to lean against your knees as Eddie flops down beside you in his sweats. 

“Sir, it is after midnight. You should be asleep.” The baby babbles in his direction and reaches for his finger as the metalhead tries to poke his nose. “Nope. Nothing can stop me!”

As soon as the pad of his index fingers connect, James smiles wide in his direction. 

After you took the baby, Steve disappeared to heat up the bottle, shaking it as he returned and climbed in beside you. As you lay him between you both, he places the end into his mouth, trying to hold it with his little hands as Steve holds the end. 

“I remember a time when this frightened you.”, you smiled. “Obviously, there was no reason to be.”

James’s eyes began to droop as he rubbed his fist against them. You can’t help but giggle when you hear Eddie’s light snores behind you. 

“I think we’re all exhausted.”, Steve grins as he reaches out to pet your head. “Close your eyes, baby. I’ll sit with him till he’s done.”

As you shift your body further into the bed, Eddie flings his arm around your hip and tugs you closer to his chest as his face nuzzles into your shoulder. Steve’s eyes trace along the three faces of his family as his heart swells with pride. He tried remembering a time in his life when he was happier but the only things that came to mind were from the point when Dylan knocked on their door to now. 

When James finally fell asleep, he carried him back to his room and tucked him in. As he climbed back into his own bed, he caressed both your faces before snuggling up in front of you and holding your hand as he closed his eyes. 

############

@adequate-superstar @kalinaselennespeaks @strangerfreak

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@sashaphantomhive @chelebelletx @big-ope-vibes

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[turtletaubwrites]

Hello luv, you wouldn't be willing to write for Red Leg Zeff would you? If not do you know of anyone who would. Thank you, have a great day!

Hi, thank you for the request! I hope you like it! 😊🙏🏼

My Lovely Patron

Pairing: Red Leg Zeff x Fem!Reader

Word Count: 1300

Ao3 Link

Summary: You are a journalist following a story about fishmen attacking a floating restaurant. You try to ply the head chef with wine for some details, but end up getting something else instead.

Rating/Warnings: Explicit Sexual Content, 18+ Only, MDNI, Fem!Reader, Reader Insert, Smut, Fluff, Age Difference, Flirting, Alcohol, Vaginal Fingering, Size Kink, Praise Kink, Shameless Smut, Zeff is just a softie, with very skilled hands

A/N: This is my first request, and I hadn't planned on writing for Zeff, but I had a great time! I hope you enjoy it, and I'd love to try some more requests soon!

The fishmouth bar at the Baratie was emptying, noises drifting as patrons returned to their ships for the night. You’d bought a bottle of red, and given the bartender a hefty tip to let you stay while he closed down the bar. 

You’d asked him for details on the recent events, but it wasn’t enough for your story. 

Why were the fishmen here? Who were the Marines after?

The motivations of the Marines was always a risky subject, and could be even more difficult to publish. But you couldn’t shake the feeling that there was a good story here, something went down at Baratie.

So you waited, hoping to catch staff grabbing an after hours drink. It was always easier to get people gossiping over booze. 

Your heart raced, and you tried to keep your excitement in when the owner himself walked in, his wooden peg leg giving his stride a powerful rhythm. 

Red Leg Zeff.

It didn’t seem to be well known, but you did your research. This head chef once led a pirate crew, and now some pirate chaos just happened in his restaurant. 

You grabbed the opportunity, picked up your bottle of red, and sauntered over. 

“Hello chef, I just wanted to thank you for such a lovely meal. Would you like to share a glass with me?”

Zeff looked like he came out of daze, his braided mustache swinging as he shook his head. 

“Oh, yes, thank you, We live to serve.”

The bartender magically appeared, taking the bottle from your hand to pour his boss a glass. 

You sat beside the older man, realizing just how massive he was compared to you. He must have been a terrifying foe back then. 

‘You’re uh, you’re here late aren't ya?”

You tapped your glass and gave him a shy smile. 

“Yes, chef. The ship I’m staying on gets pretty rowdy at night, your bartender was kind enough to let me relax here for a while.”

“Oh, I’m sure he was.”

Zeff gave the poor bartender a look that could have been teasing or menacing, you couldn’t tell. You touched his forearm gently, which he looked at before turning back to you. 

“Please don’t blame him. I can be very persuasive.”

Zeff huffed a laugh, seeming surprised. 

“Well, my persuasive patron, we’ve got some wine to drink, don’t we?”

Finding yourself laughing, you realized you were enjoying Zeff’s company. You had a feeling he would catch on instantly if you tried to needle him for information too soon. The wine bottle was almost empty.

“So, Chef… I heard that you have an interesting past. I’ve always wanted to hear some real adventure stories.”

Your heart raced, adrenaline pumping for the fear you may have already pushed too far. 

Zeff looked away from you, then gestured to the bartender as he was heading out. With another bottle in hand, Zeff led you to a table. You grinned as he poured another for you, then he leaned toward you with his glass in hand. 

“I just wanted to thank you dear. It’s been a tough week over here, and I appreciate the distraction.”

You tapped your full glasses, and almost jumped at his words. 

“Tough week? Want to talk about it?”

Zeff looked out at the dock, and you almost felt bad about doing your job when you saw the look in his eyes. 

“Oh, it’s nothing. Just, uh... Just an old man letting go of his apprentice. That little eggplant has left me understaffed, and didn’t even have the decency to restock the smoked meats first.”

You tried not to smile. But it was so cute. This scary ex pirate was drowning his sorrows because one of his cooks left. 

Fuck. I’m not going to get anything useful out of him tonight. 

You looked toward the dock. You hadn’t lied about the ship you were paying for. The crew was obnoxiously loud, and you didn’t feel like heading there just yet. 

Besides, I kinda like this old pirate. 

You had cut yourself off, knowing that you couldn’t hold your liquor against Red Leg Zeff. 

But you knew you were both rosy cheeked as he shared his stories, and you laughed when you weren’t sure if they were true or not. 

Zeff sat back in his chair, head tilted as he looked at you with a slow smile.

“Bar’s empty now, pretty thing. How ‘bout you come take a seat on my lap?”

Zeff pushed his chair back, and patted his thigh, while your face burned. 

“I, uh-”

“It’s alright if you don’t want to, sweetheart. I just wanted to thank you for cheering this old man up.” 

Pleasant chills crept over your shoulders at his gruff promise. You almost laughed at yourself when you realized you wanted to. 

You walked around the table, grabbing a sip from his glass before taking a seat. 

The chef had already taken off his uniform, and your shoulder brushed against his soft striped shirt. You sat on his firm thigh, and tried not to look at the wood on his opposite leg.

One of Zeff’s arms circled your back, so warm and steady. A sigh left your lips, and you looked up at his small smile. 

“Hi, Chef,” you breathed, and he laughed before using his free hand to stroke down your cheek to your neck. 

‘You’re a vision, ya know that?”

You felt your cheeks burn more, and tried not to squirm.

Chuckling, he started stroking along your thigh. 

“Now, I hate to have debts, darlin’. Can I repay my lovely patron for her company now?”

“Yes, Chef,” you said, biting your lip.

Zeff kissed along your temple as his fingers slipped under your skirt. The trace of his fingers sent heat right through you, your breath speeding up.

Zeff reached your core, and dragged his knuckles up and down along your panties. Your body bucked slightly and he grinned at you, before moving your panties to graze the wetness that had already built there. 

Zeff brought those fingers to his face, languidly sucking your arousal from his skin. The sight was too much, and you moaned in his arms until his raspy words made your eyes roll back. 

“Mm, you taste delicious, love.”

Zeff stroked along your thighs again before bringing his fingers back where you needed them. This time, he pushed your panties aside, and explored you. His fingers trailed along your folds, then found that bundle of nerves. 

Gasping, you reached for him. You gripped onto him, holding yourself onto his thigh and shoulder while he showed you how skilled his fingers were. 

Zeff leaned you back a bit, and sent one of his large fingers inside. His thumb rubbed along your clit, and your moans were getting louder. 

“You’re being so good, pretty thing. Let me hear ya sing for me.”

Zeff thrust another finger in, reaching deep, hooking to play with that sweet spot that had your toes curling. Zeff’s arms had to hold more of your weight while you twitched in his lap. 

“There ya go, girl. Take your fill.”

Zeffs words rolled over you as his fingers took you over the edge. You screamed into the night sky. Zeff's arm supported you from falling off the chair, while his other hand kept your pleasure dancing through you, helping you ride it out. 

Zeff’s low hums as he stroked your hair and arms made you sigh, warmth and relaxation moving through your body. You tried to move to get out of his lap, but he held you to him gently. 

“I’ve still got a full glass, sweetheart. How about ya stay with me a while longer?”

His request sent warmth through you, and you grinned up at his cheerful face, his mustache wiggling above you. 

“Alright, Chef.”

Thank You For Reading! 💜

| masterlist | about me | rules | ao3 |

Part 2

[sabastory]

Veni, Vidi, Vixi

A “Closed” sign, haphazardly slapped on to the outside of the front door. Even after hours, life at the Liberalia Lounge remains colorful and lively. Muffled laughter and cheers can be heard from within. Clinks of glasses, squeaks of chairs, the stomps of feet as figures of various sizes dance their troubles away in a flurry of boisterous jubilation. 

“...and we will NOT lay down and die!...”

The warm glow of candles bathe the room in a deep saffron. The flicker of which reflects off the watery eyes of a tall Dragonborn with rich blue scales. His face is youthful, kind yet defiant.

“...in DEATH, we show COMPLIANCE…”

One foot up on a chair, his size makes him easily visible among the diverse crowd of like-minded youths.  

“...Nothin’ changes, and the cycle continues…”

A kenku girl, cowl concealing her sullen green eyes, sits entranced by the speech. Her tea has gotten cold.

“...Now, lads. Tomorrow, we break that cycle!”

Tankards of beer, fists, hats, and more are thrust into the air as a chorus of cheers ring throughout the room. The Dragonborn triumphantly looks around the space and steps down off the chair. A skinny young man shoves a tankard into his hands.

“I daresay your first rousing speech was one for the ages, Milo”.

The Dragonborn takes the drink and looks up at the man. Early 20s, pointed ears poking out from locks of vibrant, golden hair.

“You sure it wasn’t too much? I’m not the best with words”

The man shakes his head with a smile.

“You did a wonderful job, mate. Really riled everyone up. Right, chief?”

He turns to look beyond the mingling crowd at a small figure sitting cross legged on the edge of the bar. They’re gently tuning a guitar, plucking the strings and twisting the pegs with eagle-eyed intent. The figure looks up. A kobold, brown scales and a piercing gaze. They give a tender smile, nodding in approval.

Milo calms down a bit and bashfully looks to the side. 

“Well, I’m just glad he let me. Usually he’s the one who does all the speakin’ and whatnot.”

There’s a pause.

“We’re really doin’ this?”

“The plans are all set up, it’s now or never.”

Another pause.

“Ya know, I never once expected to be a part of somethin’ like this.”

“I don’t think any of us did, but you said it yourself up there. The cycle can’t be broken if nothing is done.”

A cackle of laughter reverberates across the still lively room.

“Besides, you saw what happened at the Degraide. The blueballs are going to be spread thin looking for that little fella. That's why we have to take the chance now.”

Milo looks down at the floor, a million thoughts go through his head, all pounding at the walls of his skull like a troupe of tiny miners.

“I just hope he's okay…”

The man gently puts a hand on Milo’s arm.

“It’s gonna take a lot more than that to bring the little troublemaker down.”

He playfully pats Milo’s face a few times before grabbing his drink and disappearing into the crowd.

Left alone with his thoughts, Milo takes a big swig from the tankard he’s been fiddling with. 

Heir to an estate that no longer exists. The last surviving member of the prestigious Vanderburg family.

Funny where life can take you, he muses to himself.

[tiny-wooden-robot-fics]

Against the Tide - Fifteen

Rating: Explicit Pairing(s): Grimmjow Jaegerjaquez x Original Female Character, Silvio Ricci x Original Female Character Characters: Grimmjow Jaegerjaquez (Bleach), Silvio Ricci (Ikemen Prince), Olivia DuBois (Original Female Character of Color) Additional Tags: Alternate Universe - Canon Divergent, Pirates and Princes, Slow Burn, Action/Adventure, Worldbuilding, Angst, Some Subtle Racism, Sexual Tension, Political Subplot

Previous Chapter: Fourteen | Next Chapter: Sixteen

Summary:

Grimmjow laughs again, his long legs carrying him the short distance to her in just a few strides. “Hey,” he says softly, reaching out and stilling her hands just as she’s about to pick up the bottle of rum on the table. He takes the bottle, pouring a generous shot in each of the glasses before setting it back down on the table. “Look at me.” 

She does. Her brow is furrowed in an expression that’s not quite a frown, and he reaches up to smooth the wrinkles on her forehead. “You nervous?”

Olivia wants to tell him no, but he’d know she’s lying anyway. “A little,” she admits.

A/N: Chapter is full of explicit sexual content. You've been warned.😌

Read on AO3

He’s watching her, and it makes her nervous. 

He leans against the closed cabin door with his arms crossed over his chest, that customary indolent smirk on his face. “You scared of me, Sae?”

“Of course not,” she huffs indignantly, her eyes focused on what she’s doing.

“You sure ‘bout that?” He laughs. “Your hands are shakin’.”

“Then stop staring and you won’t see them,” she mutters. 

Grimmjow laughs again, his long legs carrying him the short distance to her in just a few strides. “Hey,” he says softly, reaching out and stilling her hands just as she’s about to pick up the bottle of rum on the table. He takes the bottle, pouring a generous shot in each of the glasses before setting it back down on the table. “Look at me.” 

She does. Her brow is furrowed in an expression that’s not quite a frown, and he reaches up to smooth the wrinkles on her forehead. “You nervous?”

Olivia wants to tell him no, but he’d know she’s lying anyway. “A little,” she admits.

“Hm,” he grunts softly, his blue eyes twinkling with amusement. “Didn’t peg ya for a blushin’ maiden,” he teases.

“I’m not,” she insists. She picks up one of the glasses and downs its contents all in one gulp. When the fiery path the liquid burns in her chest has dulled a little, she speaks again. “But I just think you should know that I’ve… I’ve only ever been with one man.” 

“Well… shit.” He seems genuinely surprised. 

“Now you know,” she murmurs softly. “So if you’re disappointed, well… at least you won’t be surprised.” 

“Why the hell would I be disappointed?” 

She shrugs, her eyes on the floor, avoiding his gaze. “I’ve only ever been with one man,” she repeats. “The difference in my experience and yours is probably as vast as---”

“Fuckin’ hell, Sae,” he exhales. “I ain’t interested in your skill set. If I want a woman who’s gonna offer me a menu, I’ll go to the damn whorehouse. I don’t. I want you.” He takes her empty glass from her and sets it on the table.

Then he kisses her. 

The kiss is just as breathtaking as she’s imagined kissing him would be: assertive but not aggressive, his mouth slotting over hers perfectly, his tongue coaxing her to part her lips and let him explore her mouth with it. He pulls her flush against him by her hips, the contact oddly soothing to her jangled nerves. 

She is trying hard to think less and feel more, the way Daisy so wisely suggested she do. The result is that every part of her is attuned to him, until her senses feel nearly overloaded. 

The way his lips feel against hers, slightly chapped from the salt and wind of the sea. She can feel the tiny, raised ridge of his scar creating a delicious sort of friction against her mouth. 

His hands on her hips, fingers splayed atop the rough fabric of her pants even as his skin warms hers through the thin material. 

He pulls his mouth away from hers only to latch it back onto the skin at her throat. Olivia gasps softly, feeling his teeth nipping at her and his tongue following to soothe and suck at the skin. She knows that there will be a mark there later, but she can’t force her fuzzy brain to care at the moment. 

Her mind is in the midst of processing this when Grimmjow stops somewhat abruptly and looks down at her. “Where’s the little lady?”

It takes her a moment to catch up. “Daisy?”

“Yeah,” he starts. “Not to ruin the mood, but I imagine it’d be a helluva surprise for her to walk in on me goin’ balls-deep in ya.”

“She won’t,” Olivia replies, trying not to laugh and failing miserably. “And if you really want to know the truth, she’s been expecting this for some time.” 

Grimmjow raises a pale blue eyebrow at her. “So I shouldn’t look for her to come bustin’ through the door anytime soon?” 

“Or at all tonight,” Olivia admits. “She’s with Kenny.”

“Hm,” he grins. “Well, he’ll look after her. He’ll keep her safe.” 

Her brain is still trying to catch up, only halfway to forming a sensible response when he reaches down to tug gently at the laces on her trousers. “Come on outta these, Sae,” he whispers into her skin, “and let me see you.” 

There is only a bit of hesitation in her movements as she obliges him. When her clothes have become simply a pile of fabric draped over a chair, she looks back at him. “Well, here I am.” She makes the quiet declaration while motioning vaguely at her bare body. 

“Yeah.” He looks at her appraisingly. It’s almost like a physical caress, the way his bright blue eyes slide up and down her body, and Olivia marvels at how instead of making her feel self-conscious, it does the exact opposite. His gaze makes her feel powerful, beautiful, and a little breathless. “There you are,” he continues, “just as pretty as I been imaginin’.” 

Once again, he closes the distance between them, advancing on her until he’s backed her up against the wall. “And,” he adds as he drops to his knees in front of her, “I can’t wait to taste ya.”

And taste her he does. 

He lifts one of her legs over his shoulder, turning his face toward the inside of her thigh and dragging his lips along her skin in a series of slow kisses. Every now and again, she feels the tiny pinch of his teeth nipping at her, until finally that trail of kisses finds its end at the dark patch of curls hiding her from him. 

“There’s my treasure,” Grimmjow whispers into her skin. He looks up, making sure she can see him lick two fingers before he gently pushes them into the folds between her outer lips and her clit. Her sharp gasp makes him smile. “Oh, I like that sound,” he murmurs, his voice a low rumble. “Wanna hear more of it.” 

Still gentle, he parts her lips with those same two fingers, using his middle finger to make slow, feather-light circles around her entrance. There’s wetness pooling there, and he lowers his head to catch some of it with the tip of his tongue. “Yeah,” he grins up at her. “Tastes just as good as I thought it would.”

Olivia raises one hand to her mouth and bites down hard on the skin between her thumb and wrist in an attempt to keep quiet. It is a failed attempt, and the muffled little whimper that escapes her elicits a chuckle from him. The result is a quiet vibration that adds another layer to what he’s doing, sending a tremor through her and making her shudder at the puff of warm breath that hits her exposed skin. 

He slides a finger into her, up to the second knuckle, lifting his head again to gauge her reaction. Her face tells him what he already knows: it feels good, but it isn’t enough. He withdraws that one digit only to add a second to it, and he fingerfucks her that way for a while… slowly, relishing the wet sucking sounds her body makes every time he pulls his fingers back. 

The only hands that have touched Olivia in an intimate way since Silvio have been her own. This is nothing like when I touch myself. The thought is fleeting, but the feelings it leaves behind stay put. Grimmjow’s fingers are longer, thicker, and canted at a different angle. A more satisfying angle. When he lowers his head again and licks a long, slow stripe from the tip of her clit to the root, her legs start to shake. 

Olivia’s other hand wanders down to the top of his head, fingers threading their way through his hair in an attempt to keep herself grounded. And while she is trying her level best - unsuccessfully - not to make a sound, Grimmjow is as unabashed as ever. His grunts and satisfied moans and the wet slurping sounds he’s making as he ravages her with his mouth have her skin feeling so flushed and hot she wants to come out of it. If anyone walks by, she thinks to herself, the thought almost disconnected from her, they won’t have to guess what’s going on here. 

One flick of his tongue here, a little twist of his wrist there, and she’s coming undone. The muscles in her thighs shake and go taut as she cries out, and for a brief moment, she thinks her legs will spill her onto the floor below. 

“I gotcha,” Grimmjow laughs, utterly delighted at her predicament even as he tightens his grip on her to keep her from falling. “That’s it, sweetheart,” he coos, the term of endearment pooling heat low in her belly. “Go on and come apart so pretty for me…” 

She starts to panic when he lets her leg down, but her fears are unfounded. He simply lifts her and carries her, depositing her on top of the neatly made bed so he can turn his attention to his own clothes. 

Her focus is split between trying to catch her breath and willing her legs to stop shaking. Still, she watches his every move when he starts to disrobe. Shirtless Grimmjow is a familiar but not unwelcome view: a broad expanse of sun-kissed skin over hard planes of muscle. There are scars, too - some she knows the story behind and others she doesn’t. Her eyes fall on his hands as they undo the laces to his trousers. Even before he pulls them down she can see how big he is - flushed red, rock-hard and dribbling precum. 

“Well,” he smirks, mimicking her previous motion at his body. “Here I am.”

“There you are,” Olivia breathes, feeling an anticipatory throb between her legs even as her heart races with slight apprehension. 

Grimmjow laughs. “You look nervous again, Sae,” he teases her, as he saunters over to join her in bed. “I ain’t gonna hurt ya, y’know.” 

“I know,” she laughs quietly. She pauses, glancing down at his dick again. “Well… you might.” Despite the trepidation she expresses, she opens her legs for him and lets him settle his hips between her thighs. “I… need you to go slow.” 

“I will,” he promises solemnly, looking her dead in the eye and lifting her hand to his mouth to press an unexpectedly tender kiss to her palm. “I told ya… I just wanna make ya feel good.” He pauses for a moment, and then: “I wanna say somethin’.”

Quizzically, Olivia looks at him, inclining her head to the side as an indication that she’s ready to hear whatever it is.

“You know I get around, Sae,” he starts seriously, his eyes on their hands as he links their fingers together. “I wanna make it clear I never go bare with the inn girls, no matter where I am.” He looks up at her. “So ain’t no need in you worryin’ about what I got. And if you need me to---” He motions in the general direction of her abdomen, and Olivia catches his meaning. 

“Oh,” she says, biting back a soft smile at his thoughtfulness. “I promised my mother I wouldn’t come back with a belly full of a pirate’s child, and she made sure I had what I needed before I left… just in case.” Her words are accompanied by a quiet laugh. “So no… there’s no need for you to worry about… that, either.” She looks up at him a little shyly. “I would be ok with it if you… if you went bare with me.” 

It’s the assent he’s looking for, and he flashes her a grin that has no right to be as sexy as it is. He reaches down into the pouch lying near his discarded clothing to take out a small bottle. 

Even after he’s coated himself in the lubricant, Olivia’s apprehension gets the better of her and makes her tense up when she feels his cock rubbing against her entrance. Grimmjow notices her tension and stops moving, dipping his head to bring his lips to hers in another searing kiss. When he breaks the kiss and looks down at her, his smile is gentler than she’s ever seen it. 

It takes her breath away. 

“Hey,” he whispers, cupping her cheek in his palm reassuringly. He brushes his thumb back and forth over her cheekbone. “I promised I wasn’t gonna hurt ya. Ya trust me, Sae?”

“With my life,” she answers unhesitatingly. 

“Good girl.” Her face warms at the praise. “Then do me a favor… relax your hips a little bit, hm? So I can come in slow?”  

She takes a deep breath and then nods, doing as she’s told and widening her legs a bit. 

The second time he nudges at her entrance, she closes her eyes as she feels the head of his cock pushing into her. He pushes in a little more and then slowly, very slowly, pulls his hips back. In again, a little further this time. He continues that way for a while: pushing into her slowly, a little deeper each time, giving her a chance to adjust to him before he pulls back out again - until he’s fully sheathed inside of her, his hips flush against hers and his balls resting against her backside. 

“See?” He says, his shallow exhale belying his outward composure. “That wasn’t so bad, was it?”

“No,” Olivia agrees, her face warm under his gaze. “It wasn’t.” 

She wants to say so much more than just that. She wants to tell him how good it feels - not just the way he’s snugly nestled inside of her and how full it makes her feel, but how warm and safe she feels in the circle of his embrace. She wants to tell him what he looks like from where she’s lying beneath him - the expression on his face, all breathless and adoring and sexy. None of the words in her head seem like enough, and she can’t string together anything that would properly express the feelings in her heart.

She doesn’t have to; he can read everything she’s feeling on her face. “You are one fuckin’ dangerous woman, Sae,” he murmurs, nuzzling her cheek with his nose.

“Dangerous?” 

He grins down at her. “Lookin’ at me with them big, soft eyes… liable to make a man get lost in ‘em, forget his own damn name.” Without giving her brain time to form a response, he pulls his hips back and thrusts into her.

Again. 

And again.

And again. 

And again, until her head is stuffed full of nothing but the way he feels. He has one of his hands on each of her thighs, keeping her pinned under him and spread-eagled around him. With every drag of his cockhead against her walls and every brush of his pubic bone against her swollen, sensitive clit, she feels herself getting closer and closer to a second orgasm. She wants to cover her face at the lewd wet sounds her body is making, but she keeps her arms tightly wrapped around him, keeping him as close as he can get. 

Grimmjow, for his part, is just as vocal in this setting as he is at any other time, and Olivia is almost relieved at the thought that any sounds she’s making are most assuredly being drowned out by his grunts and moans. 

Then, without warning, he pulls completely out of her.

“Grimm,” her voice comes out as a high, thin whine - she’s feeling the loss of him very keenly.  

He wraps one hand around the head of his cock and squeezes, pushing his other hand into the space between their bodies to stroke at her. “Ain’t ready to end this just yet,” he laughs stiltedly. “You feel too damn good.” He looks down at her, giving her that soft smile again. “Sides… don’t you wanna come for me one more time first? Hm?”

It isn’t really a choice, Olivia knows. He’s got two fingers buried inside of her now, and though they come nowhere near to filling her the way his cock does, she’s already close enough that it doesn’t matter. The second he presses his thumb to her clit to drag it back and forth, she starts to shake and clench around him, her bottom lip caught in her teeth and her head falling helplessly back onto the bed. 

“Just like that,” he murmurs, withdrawing his fingers from her mid-climax and pushing his cock into her all in one go, letting her ride out her orgasm on it. Her aftershocks are his undoing, and this time he does not stave off his own climax as she pulses and spasms tightly around him. He buries his face in her shoulder, and even the way he sinks his teeth into the tender bit of skin there does not muffle the long, satisfied groan he expels when he comes inside of her. 

Olivia lets him stay where he is even though she’s too sensitive and tender where their bodies are joined… even though she’s overstimulated, even though his skin is too warm now and he’s too heavy and her thighs are too sore from being pushed apart from each other for so long. 

She wraps her arms more tightly around him, fingers playing in the sweat-dampened hair at the nape of his neck. When he raises his head to look up at her again, he frowns. “Shit, Sae… did I hurt you?”

“No,” she answers softly after a moment. “It was perfect.” 

Grimmjow doesn’t ask her about her tears, even as he watches her attempts to get them to stop. “Sure ya ain’t hurt nowhere?” He asks instead, reaching out and running his thumb over the faint teeth marks he’s left in her shoulder. “Mighta got a little carried away near the end there.” 

He hasn’t meant for it to be funny, but she laughs anyway. “Hurt? No,” she says after a moment. “These aren’t… these aren’t the hurt kind of tears. Although… places I didn’t even know could be sore will probably ache come tomorrow morning.” 

“I’ll pay ya for the damages,” he laughs, relieved that her tears are not evidence of pain, physical or otherwise. “How ‘bout that?”

Olivia is suddenly craving nearness to him again, and the few inches of space between them feels like a valley. She moves closer to tuck herself into his side, relishing the warmth of his skin even as she feels his seed spilling out of her with the movement. “Can I ask you something?” 

“Anything you want,” he says, putting his arms around her and absently letting his hands roam over her soft bits.

“Are you always that… vocal?”

“Only when I’m havin’ a good time,” he smirks down at her. “And I gotta say, I could get used to the sight of you under me, all soft and wantin’ and blissed out.” He pauses. “It’s cute.” 

“Don’t be silly,” she mumbles. She reaches up and tweaks his nipple. “Or I’ll tell everyone how mushy you are.” 

He lets out a low chuckle. “Only for you.” 

Her fingers trace one of the bigger scars along his side. “Do you really mean it when you say things like that?”

There’s fondness in his blue eyes when he looks down at her. “‘Course I do,” he answers right away. His tone grows serious when he speaks again. “You know what I do, Sae. I steal shit. I sell that shit for money. I’ve killed men when the occasion called for it. You pretend not to know that, but I know ya do. And still you never look at me different. You look at me like all the other women look at me when I pay ‘em to.”

“I know that you sometimes acquire rare goods from different countries,” Olivia maintains with a laugh. “I’ve never asked you exactly how you acquire those goods, and I never plan to. As far as I’m concerned, you’re a merchant - and that’s what I’ll tell anyone else who asks.” 

He whistles softly. “Damn, woman… you make me wanna lay a claim on you.”

“Oh, don’t pretend I could tame you,” she scoffs. 

“Why not? I respect you, Sae. If anybody could tame me, it’d be you.” 

She turns her face up to look at him, expecting to see that familiar teasing glint in his eyes and finding herself surprised when his face is unexpectedly sincere. It renders her speechless for a moment.

He takes advantage of the moment to shift in bed, letting go of her to switch positions and hover over her. “Hope ya don’t mind me bein’ a little selfish with ya for a while.” 

Even if she had protestations - which she doesn’t - they would die in her throat when his lips meet hers. 

Think less, feel more. 

She pushes down her tidal wave of thoughts and reaches for him, pulling him closer. He kisses her until she feels almost lightheaded, and she wonders if his ability to narrow her focus down to what he’s doing is a matter of natural skill or a knack he’s developed from having taken so many women to bed. 

He pulls back to look at her with a lazy grin. “Whatcha thinkin’ about?” 

“You’re not supposed to ask me that,” she laughs, still trying to catch her breath. “Isn’t it against the rules?” 

“Don’t recall it bein’ so,” he declares. “I’m just curious about that look on your face.” He brushes his thumb over her bottom lip. “Wanna know what’s in that pretty little head of yours.”

“How can you be so persuasive without even doing anything?” She mock-pouts. “Fine… if you insist on knowing, I was just admiring your ability to scrape all the other thoughts out of my head. The only thing on my mind right now is you, and that’s a feat not many can lay claim to.” 

“That’s how it should be,” he laughs. “If you’re thinkin’ about other shit while I’m doin’ this, means I’m doin’ it wrong.” 

Well. He has a point there. 

Further proving his point, he lowers his head to hers once more to resume the business of taking her breath away with his kisses. His kisses go beyond his mouth, deeper than just his lips and teeth and tongue. They’re hungry, meant to consume and to sate the desire he so clearly feels for her.

Drowning is not nearly strong enough of a word to describe the way his kisses make her feel. She’s being devoured, bit by delicious bit, and enamored with every second of it. He leans back again, this time reaching up to tug gently at a single curl of her hair. “Can I?” He asks, his voice low and raspy. 

Olivia looks back up at him wryly. “I don’t know what you think will happen here,” she laughs. “If you try to run your fingers through it, they might get stuck.”

He smirks. “I don’t care about that. I’m askin’ on account of the fact you might not want me puttin’ my paws in your hair even though I want to.”

“Suit yourself… I don’t mind if it’s you,” she shrugs after a moment of contemplating what he’s asked. She watches him, equal parts amused and enraptured at the way he buries his hands in her hair, fingertips gently massaging at her scalp. Upon realizing that what he’s doing is actually intended to heighten her arousal - and that it’s working - she lets out a soft moan. “Why are you never around when it’s time for me to wash my hair?” She laments jokingly, her eyes fluttering shut with pleasure. 

“I can be, if you want me to.” He shifts a bit, nudging her thighs apart with one knee. When her legs are spread to his satisfaction, he rubs that same knee up against her. 

“Not fair,” she complains. “I thought dual assaults on the senses were against the rules, too.” 

His eyes crinkle with mirth as he looks down at her. “Didn’t figure you to be so big on rules,” he teases her. 

“Only when I’m at a tactical disadvantage,” she manages, her voice strained. 

Grimmjow chuckles, forgoing words in favor of continuing his dual assault on her senses - heedless of Olivia’s clearly half-hearted complaints. It isn’t long before she’s started to squirm beneath him. She’s only a little reluctant to come to terms with the fact that he apparently doesn’t have to use his fingers or his mouth to bring her to orgasm, but she will never admit that to him. The thought is fleeting, and a moment later she’s shaking and gasping and clenching emptily around nothing when she comes. 

He makes a quiet noise of satisfaction when he looks down and sees her trail of sticky fluid on his skin. “Know what I love about ya?” 

Out of breath, she shakes her head. “What?” 

Closing the distance between their faces, he pecks the corner of her mouth in a kiss that is much too chaste for what he’s just done. “The way your body responds to everything I do,” he tells her when he leans back. “Don’t think I’d ever get tired of the way you can talk to me without speakin’.” 

Her whole face goes warm, and though she isn’t visibly flushing, she covers it up anyway. 

“Don’t do that,” he laughs. “Let me see how cute you are.” 

“Tactical disadvantage,” she mutters, her voice muffled through her fingers. 

“Mmhm,” he murmurs agreeably. He pries her hands away from her face and brings one of them down between their bodies so she can feel how hard he’s become, all over again. “Who’s got the advantage now?” He raises his pale eyebrows at her as she tentatively wraps her fingers around him.

“I’d say you’re still holding onto it by quite a… sizable margin,” she exhales. She squeezes him lightly in her palm, delighted with the strangled noise he makes in the back of his throat. “If I asked you to get on your back, would you do it for me?” 

He does without a single word of protest. 

“Oh, I see,” she teases him, wrapping her hand around him again. “This is how I get the tactical advantage, is it?” 

Grimmjow looks at her, amused. “That’s one way.”

She doesn’t answer him, focusing all her attention on how to approach the task of getting him in her mouth. She dips her head, tongue darting out to taste his tip. One look at his face after she does so tells her it isn’t nearly enough, but he doesn’t push. He simply watches her, blue eyes dark with desire. “Well?” She raises her eyebrows at him. “I want to ask you how you like it, but I’m afraid of the answer.” 

It makes him laugh. “Sae, I like it however you wanna give it to me,” he tells her. “Or not at all… be just as happy to feel you sit on it---”

His words are cut off abruptly when she puts her mouth on him, and this time he doesn’t speak again. She takes as much of him as she can, until her eyes water and saliva dribbles down her chin and she feels she can’t go any further down without gagging on him. 

“Oh… fuck,” he groans, loud and long. He wants to close his eyes at how it feels, but he can’t drag his gaze away from her: big, wild, curly hair reaching in different directions around her head; dark eyes closed as she focuses completely on what she’s doing; her hand wrapped around what she can’t fit in her mouth and her cheeks hollowed out as she sucks on him. He watches her for what feels like a small eternity, completely mesmerized by everything she’s doing. When she reaches around with her other hand to play lightly with his balls, he thinks it just might be his undoing. “Sae, stop,” he grinds out urgently. “You gotta--- shit, stop, stop---”

Just for a moment she’s tempted to keep going, to see what happens if she doesn’t stop. She does though, mouth sliding off of him, a thin line of spit trailing from his cock to her lips. “Just when I was really getting into it,” she grins. 

“Fuckin’ hell,” he exhales. He isn’t exactly baffled at how close he’s gotten to spilling himself down her throat - he knows what makes the difference between this time and any other time he’s gotten his dick sucked is who’s doing the sucking. Olivia isn’t just some tavern girl paid to know his pleasure for the night, and suddenly the distinction between any other woman in the world and the one he loves is very clear. 

He comes just short of manhandling her, his catlike reflexes quick enough that before she knows it, she’s on her hands and knees with her face pushed into the pillow and her ass in the air. “Oh,” she laughs softly, turning her head a little to look back at him. “I thought you might not have liked that, but I guess I was wrong.” 

“I’m gonna say sorry now,” he grunts. “Might be a little while before ya can walk without a limp.” 

Seconds after that announcement she can feel him nudging at her, pushing her open for him. He presses into her differently this time, a welcome intrusion that she feels slightly more prepared for than the first time around. The guttural sound he makes when he’s fully sheathed inside of her makes her skin flush hot all over. 

And she hasn’t figured it out before now, but she likes it this way. 

The way his hips slap against hers every time he pushes into her. The way this position lets her feel him inside of her in places she couldn’t before. The way his rhythm is slightly uneven because he’s worked a hand around her waist to toy with her clit as he thrusts into her. The sounds he’s making, the sounds she realizes she’s making, the smell of their bodies mingled together, the way it’s so hot she can almost see steam rising from their skin. 

It’s like nothing she’s felt before, and she likes it. 

“Could I ever get enough of ya, Sae?” He whispers hoarsely to her afterward, his limbs tangled up with hers. “Could I ever have my fill?”

Her first response is a quiet laugh. “I’m sure you could,” she adds after a moment. 

He raises his head to look at her, serious. “Dunno about that.” 

Oh. The way he’s looking at her tightens something in her chest. And deep in her heart, there is an answering call.  

Previous Chapter: Fourteen | Next Chapter: Sixteen

Tag List: @chrissie2003 @kryptoniteforsale @pamakali

[slytherinqueen123]

fight club.

-y/n's pov-

"no, no, no. don't you three go get in a fight, it's really isn't a big deal at all." i rush forwards, blocking the door.

draco sneers at me. "move, y/n."

"no!" i exclaim, throwing my arms out so that no one can barge past. "you're not going out there to defend my honour when i don't have an honour to be defended. she just called me a slut. it's not like she threatened to fight me!"

blaise swallows hard and nods. i raise an eyebrow at malfoy and he gives a relatively similar reaction to blaise. the only one who hasn't said anything is theo.

"mattheo? do you understand?" i say coolly. he sighs, rolls his eyes and moves to sit on a chair. the other two follow. "thank you." i add, sitting down across from pansy, who's been watching the whole ordeal.

"hey, when did snape say we had to be-" i'm cut off by scuffling as the boys all get up and run out the door. "HEY! WAI-" i dash after them. theo stops at the door and leans back in.

"you promised!" i whine.

"yeah. i promised to protect you. love you, princess." he winks at me and sprints after the boys.

i flop back down on the couch near pansy, and give her a look.

"you know what's gonna happen? they're gonna get mad and agree to some stupid fight club. then i'm gonna have to shake my ass at somebody to get them out." i roll my eyes.

"thats why we love you, honey." she jokes. i roll my eyes at her. bitch.

“please, like i don’t fucking know it. you wanna take a guess at how many times a day i get called an attention seeking whore? i have to hide all that from them or every boy in this damn school will have his eyes gouged out if he so much as looks in my direction.” i huff. pansy nods along, sipping a coffee and twirling her hair. she seems like she has all the time in the world for my trauma dumping, so i keep going.

“like, i love them, i really do. we’ve been friends since god knows when, and they’re like my brothers. i just wish they were more… gentle and less fight me, yknow?”

parkinson is still zoned out, absently mindedly bobbing her head every few seconds. i sigh.

“see ya pansy.” i get up and go to my dorm, faintly hearing a, “yeah, bye.”, echoing up the stairs behind me.

• • •

-mattheo’s perspective-

“WHAT?” i roar, backing parkinson up into the corner. “she said WHAT?”

blaise tugs at my collar, slightly pulling me back. pansy cowers in the corner. “i don’t know, that’s just what she told me. she said you guys would kill everyone. i’m sorry, i don’t know more.” she whispers, the joy of being involved with our drama fading away and she watches out faces darken.

“can i go now?” she mumbles, not making eye contact. i step aside and she runs out the common room door.

“fucking snake.” blaise hisses. i turn. “what?” i ask, still turning over the possibility of going out right now and grabbing any guy who i’m suspicious of and demanding answers. “she’s a snake. a sly little one, too.”

draco looks confused, and i doubt i look any better. “why? why is she a snake?”

blaise sighs. “because, y/n would’ve told her all that to get it off her chest, and pansy’s reaction is to come and spread around everything she said? that’s a bitchy move, especially since y/n wouldn’t have been thinking about pansy doing that.”

i raise an eyebrow. “oh, she’s just doing it for attention. the latest drama of y/n y/l/n will make her the most popular witch in slytherin for a hot minute. that’s all she wants.”

malfoy is still looking dumbfounded. “huh?” blaise and i share a look.

“ugh, never mind. maybe you’d understand if you where less blonde.”

• • •

“good godric guys, you could’ve knocked!” y/n huffs, rolling her eyes at us and pegging a book.

“y/n, we need to talk.”

“about you barging into my personal quarters? yeah, we do need to talk about th-”

“not about that. y/n, this is serious. we need to talk.”

her face pales a bit, and she starts aggressively rubbing blush on her cheeks. “oh? what do we need to talk about?” she says, her voice high and pitchy.

blaise gives me a look and steps forward. “y/n, please stop. we know.” she keeps on pushing the brush over her face, even though there’s no product left on it.

“what do you know? why do you think you know something? what do you know?” she says coolly.

“y/n, quit playin-” i start. blaise puts a hand on my chest and pushes me back. he goes over to y/n and turns her to face him.

“hey.” he says softly. she refuses to meet his eyes. “hi.”

he lets the brush from her fingers and puts it gingerly on the counter. “y/n, are you ok?”

we watch as her eyes dart everywhere but looking at blaise. he grabs her chin slightly and pulls her gaze back to him. raising an eyebrow, he silently asks her the question again.

“yes.”

a small smile creeps onto his face. “good. now, i want you to listen to me, ok.” she nods. “if any poor excuse of a wizard says any of those things to you again, i will personally kick escort them to hell. and if they deserve it, i will let mattheo beat their asses. and malfoy changed them. ok?” the smile is gone.

“yes.”

i sit myself on the foot of the bed, malfoy following. we stare at the scene playing out in front of us. best man, drug lord, chronic fight starter and nose crusher blaise zabini talking oh-so softly to miss independent, don’t take no bull, kick your ass on the way to a show y/n.

what has our world come to.

• • •

queen note - i know this one finished kinda abruptly, but i really needed something to post, so i might come back an edit it later. love yous 😘

[yukiwrites]

Debts and Repayment

Thanks for the support as always, @authordgaster!

This is a C-A Support chain between Balthus and Seteth from Three Houses! Such a interesting duo, thanks for the opportunity to let me write about them~

Commission info HEREand HERE!

__________________________

C SUPPORT

Seteth: Balthus. A word?

Balthus: Hey there, pal. That’s three words. Done, right? See ya!

Seteth: Hold it right there.

Balthus: Wow, I wouldn’t have pegged your grip to be this strong, Seteth. Care for a match to settle things instead of whatever it is you wanna say?

Seteth: I will decline the offer, though it is as I suspected; you are aware of why I am here.

Balthus: Well, duh. You’re here to collect money, right? The debt I owe the church ain’t small so it was a matter of time until Lady Rhea sent you to me.

Seteth: You are right and wrong about that. I did not come to play a debt collector role even though I am quite aware of the dent you have made in the church’s coffers since your student days.

Balthus: No? Oh that’s a big relief. I didn’t wanna have to fight you and run away from Abyss after finally settling in for a bit.

Seteth: However, I am here to ask you the reason why you have not chosen to work as a hired hand for the church instead. You have done that in the past so you are aware of the amount you can earn.

Balthus: Sure, if I could earn all of that! You’ll take such a big cut outta the whole I end up with barely a coin to toss. I’d rather try my luck elsewhere to pay that debt, thanks.

Seteth: It would be honest work, regardless of monetary rewards, would it not? Haven’t you lived your life in the shadows enough? Now that you fight alongside law-abiding citizens, perhaps it is time to change your ways…

Balthus: Welp, what you say is true. I have been living as a vagabond for a long time.

Seteth: Excellent. I can have you outfitted—

Balthus: But that doesn’t mean I’ll enroll, pal. There’re many ways the King of Grappling can make a living, and being the church’s dog ain’t one of them. Don’t think too much about the debt, aight? I got it covered.

Seteth: *sighs* Must you behave this way? Will you truly not consider it? As you are now a classmate of my sister’s, I must make it so you do not wrongly influence her in any way.

Balthus: Ahh, so that’s what this was about. I did think it was fishy since you didn’t come at me with a weapon in hand demanding money.

Balthus: I know I’m a hard man to miss — which woman could not look twice when they see these?! Haha! — so I understand your concerns… I’m sure I left my share of heartbreak wherever I went.

Seteth: Wha—?! Flayn would never— How dare you suggest she would ever take a liking to- to you?! Preposterous! And even if she did, I would never approve of it. 

Balthus: Whoa there, overprotective much? No wonder the kid looks like such an easy prey; you haven’t let her live her own life!

Seteth: I will have you know I give her plenty of freedom! I care only for her safety and wellbeing.

Balthus: Sure, the freedom of a cage, yeah? I feel kinda sorry for her now. Don’t worry, I promise to play nice if it means you’ll give the kid some space. Are we done here?

Seteth: I—? … I suppose. I did not think you would agree so easily, so I apologize for my earlier outburst.

Balthus: No skin off my back, pal. But better keep your overprotectiveness in check or the kid’s gonna hate you for real.

Seteth: ��

B SUPPORT (Unlockable after Seteth and Flayn B Support is attained)

Seteth: Balthus. I remember you said you would ‘play nice’? What part of playing nice means getting drunk at the local tavern at noon?

Balthus: Uh, in my defense, I’ve lived down in Abyss for so long I kinda lost the proper sense of time? It’s always dark down there, so any time’s a good time for a drink!

Seteth: …

Balthus: And there’s the death glare. You know I overhead something interesting a few days ago, should I share?

Seteth: By the way you are looking at me, I suppose I will not like this, will I?

Balthus: Not one bit, I’m sure.

Seteth: *sighs*

Balthus: So, does ‘Kindly keep out of my social business in the future’ ring any bells?

Seteth: !! You— What else did you hear? How long have you been eavesdropping on our conversations?!

Balthus: Whoa, easy there, Big Brother, no need to get aggressive. It’s not my way to go around listening in to people’s family meetings. I just so happened to pass by when I overheard that… Though by your reaction, it seems this runs deeper, don’t it? 

Seteth: Humph. I’ll thank you not to meddle in my family’s affairs. I hope this does not happen again, Balthus. If I catch you looming around my sister…

Balthus: See, there’s that, too, pal. What did she just tell you? Aren’t you reflecting even a bit? The kid needs some space and you ain’t giving it.

Seteth: I… do not need to hear this from you. I am reflecting well enough without you telling me. Is it too much to simply wish for her to be safe, happy and content at all times? She is my only sister.

Balthus: It kinda is, yeah. You can’t live a life without getting a bit dirty, you know? And I don’t even mean in that way.

Seteth: … Ahem. I am quite aware that it is foolish to expect to shield her from everything, but if I were to ever lose her…

Balthus: You gotta let her loose, pal. She’s your little sis so she’ll always have a spot at your side, won’t she? But if you keep holding her back like this, she’ll just hate you.

Seteth: …

Balthus: I’m not saying I’m a prime example of an older brother, seeing as I left my little bro to inherit the title and land back home, but overprotection ain’t the way.

Seteth: I do remember you hail from House Albrecht, though I know little else about it. So your younger brother is the reigning Baron? 

Balthus: Yep. You kinda look like how his mom was when we were kids, and this ain’t a compliment. Because I was born with a Crest and he wasn’t, she always thought that she had to ‘protect’ him from me, and shielded him from mostly everything else on the way. She would control who he met, what he did, where he went and what the professors would tell him in class. Sound familiar?

Seteth: … I am not so unreasonable.

Balthus: Not yet, you mean. My brother still managed to grow up well despite all that, but I figured me leaving would make her gaze turn to eliminating me instead of focusing on him too much. That worked well, hah! This scar was from the last ‘present’ she sent me a few weeks ago.

Seteth: What?! You were attacked within the Monastery’s walls? That breach in security has to be reported—

Balthus: It happened down in Abyss, don’t worry about it. Your little sis is safe here with all of ya’ll. But you’re missing the point again, pal.

Seteth: … Forgive me. I know you are trying to help, and I thank you for it. I confess I didn’t expect to find such wisdom in you.

Balthus: Harsh! Hah!

Seteth: Heh.

Balthus: Nice, now we’re loosing up. Think about it, eh, pal? If you need more ‘wisdom’, you know where to find me!

Balthus leaves.

Seteth: … Surely I won’t look for wisdom at the pub, but I thank you for the new perspective regardless.

A SUPPORT

Balthus: Hey, pal!

Seteth: Balthus.

Balthus: I noticed your grip on little Flayn’s gotten a bit loose lately, that’s good!

Seteth: … I did not have a ‘grip’ on her, but yes, I have done my share of reflecting, much of it was thanks to you.

Balthus: No prob, pal. I’m kinda in the same boat so I get where you’re coming from. Taking care of a little sister in a world filled with trash men sure is hard.

Seteth: Oh? I was not aware you had a sister as well.

Balthus: Well, not my sister, but since she’s my best friend’s sis, she might as well be! You know her — it’s Hilda.

Seteth: Ah. I did hear you and her brother were on good terms. I did not imagine you were so close as to share such a familial bond.

Balthus: Yeah, he asked me to protect her, so that’s what I’m doin’. Any guy who wants to get on with her will have to go through me first!

Seteth: *nod* I understand completely. No unfitting scoundrel will get his hands on my sister on my watch.

Balthus: You know it, pal. But in moderation, yeah? Don’t be a control freak like my step-mom…

Seteth: Ahem. Of course.

Seteth: You mentioned your stepmother, so you are not the official heir to House Albrecht?

Balthus: Nah. Kinda? It’s complicated. You know Kupala? It’s a village up Fódlan’s Throat, so hidden away people think it doesn’t actually exist.

Seteth: I’m afraid I do not recognize the name.

Balthus: Didn’t expect ya to. My mom’s from there, but she left. It didn’t go well and she was rescued by my dad. Bam! Love at first sight and they married. But he’s a noble and she wasn’t, so he had to marry another noble to continue on with the family line. Problem was, my brother wasn’t born with a Crest, so although I wasn’t the ‘official’ son, I’m the one who had the most ‘potential’ to be the heir.

Seteth: I had no idea…

Balthus: So my mom went back to Kupala ‘cause she couldn’t handle all those noble intrigues and what not, you know? I left a while later to give my brother some space and there we have it. I’m planning on going back home to protect my mom once this is over, though. My step-mom’s attacks have stopped since the war, but I’m scared she might be looking for my mom to retaliate.

Seteth: Would she do such a thing?

Balthus: I wouldn’t put it past her, to be honest. Anyway, what did you have in mind to do after the war? I just told you my plan, so be a pal and share yours, too.

Seteth: I will remain at Garreg Mach and help Byleth rebuilt what’s left of the Church and of Fódlan. I could not shirk away from such a duty after helping them play such a pivotal role in the war.

Balthus: Uh-huh. Nice. And after that?

Seteth: After… I’m afraid I don’t know. I want to take Flayn somewhere safe so we live out our lives at peace, for a change. Although she demanded me to stop fretting over her after the war ended, it’s easier said than done.

Balthus: I wanted you to say that. Say, why don’t you go to Kupala with me? It’s a village so out of the way, I don’t think people can find us there unless they try really hard. Besides, I already offered little Lysithea and her folks a spot there, so why not call you and Flyan in, too? The more the merrier, right?

Seteth: That’s… is quite a generous offer. But why would you make such a promise to Lysithea’s family, as well?

Balthus: Ah, I owe them my life. I figured I could repay their kindness the same way they showed it to me, so there you have it. Consider yourself formally invited too, pal!

Seteth, smiling: … Very well. Thank you for the invitation, Balthus. I very well may take you up on that.

Balthus: Nice!

Balthus: Does that mean my debt to the church is pardoned—

Seteth: This and that are completely different matters.

Balthus: Dang. Worth a try, at least. Haha!Seteth: Heh.

[deanwinchesterswitch]

The Girlfriend Who Remade Christmas

Part Three: Hail the New

Square: Creating New Traditions ~ @spnchristmasbingo

Song: Deck the Halls ~ Nat King Cole

Pairing: Dean x Nicole {Nico/Nic} OFC

Summary: Nic and Dean hold in feelings as they each try to find common ground regarding the holiday. Sam’s secret is out.

Warnings: Flangst, mild language, canon divergence

Word Count: 3,125

Beta: @wayward-and-worn. Thank you for helping get things on track.🤗😘🤗

Credit: @talesmaniac89 made the gorgeous title card and divider

Author's Note: This chapter is dedicated to my wonderful friend, Stacey (@princessmisery666). As you know, this past year has been rough. Your friendship and support through all of it are so greatly appreciated. Love ya!!!❤️❤️❤️

Series Master Post

Dean wakes the next morning to an empty bed. 

Last night she’d found him in the library where he was waiting for her. She draped her arms over his shoulders, leaning down to whisper, 'I’m sorry', and kiss his cheek. He’d responded in kind before rising, capturing her hand in his and letting her lead him to their bedroom. 

Not long after they’d officially become a couple, she’d made him promise they would never go to bed mad at each other. Said that they had enough bullshit going on in their lives that they didn’t need to bring it into the bedroom. He’d initially thought it was cheesy but had come to appreciate it over the years. 

The thought of not falling asleep next to her would always leave him feeling sick. With her lying in his arms, he feels whole. She keeps his inner demons at bay. On the rare occasions they are separated from one another, he usually chooses not to sleep. Instead, he stays up reading, watching movies, or roaming the bunker's cold vacant hallways, his thoughts always landing back on her.

She’s feisty and stubborn, calls him on his bullshit, and takes him down a peg or two when needed. He loves her all the more for it, but when their stubbornness is pitted against each other, it’s like hell on earth. Again. 

He doesn’t feel guilty about his reasons for not wanting to do the whole Christmas thing. However, he knows that despite the trials she went through growing up, Nic still enjoys the season, and he does feel guilty for putting a kibosh on her plans, especially after initially agreeing to them. It’s not that he hates the holiday, but as he said, nothing good ever happens to them. Like Nic, he hoped this year might be different, but he can’t seem to ‘get into the spirit’.

Part of their agreement is that if there are things left to discuss, they will address them when they wake up the following day. He knew if he talked to her, she would listen …really listen, not judge him. He just hadn’t found the will to do it yet. Deciding not to let it drag out, he’d opened the way for a discussion as they’d gotten ready for bed. 

~~~~

“Are we okay?”

“Of course we are.” She smiled, shimmied out of her jeans, and tossed them in the laundry pile. 

“Because, you know, I could explain, for the millionth time, all the reasons why Christmas sucks.” Miracle trotted into the room, and Dean closed the door behind him as the pup settled into his bed.

She’d paused, shirt half unbuttoned, the creamy skin of her thighs bared when she’d thrown her hands in the air, and bit back, “Dean, what’s the issue?” 

He bit his lip and tried to steer his wayward thoughts about his head being squeezed between those muscular, gorgeous thighs back to the conversation he’d started. He cleared his throat and shrugged, “I just want to make sure you understand why I don’t want to celebrate.”

“I believe I do, but you know you can talk to me about it, right?”

Dean nodded as she removed her jewelry and placed it on the nightstand. When he didn’t respond further, she continued.

“I know that growing up the way you did that the holidays sucked for you. Mine weren’t always that great, either. I thought, well hoped,” lips briefly pressed together, she yanked the bed covers down, “that since we now have a home and no big bad threat looming, we could try something new.”

He wanted to talk to her and explain the emotions that had been plaguing him the past few weeks. How left behind he felt while she and Sam seemed to be moving forward and navigating their new lives with minimal struggle. Wanted to tell her about the loss of purpose he felt since ‘the family business’ had been relegated to a side hustle. Wanted to let her know that he was ready to start putting himself first once in a while but that he didn’t know where to start. It might not exactly be how he’d envisioned it, but the fairytale he talked about wanting but never believed he would have is coming true, and he doesn’t feel like he has a place in it.

“Dean?”

She popped the last button on her shirt, and he decided that discussion could wait for another time, so he deflected. “I can think of some new things I would prefer to try.” She laughed when he shot finger guns at her. When she snorted, he laughed with her. Once their amusement settled, he reached across the bed. “Seriously, though, we’re good?”

“Yes,” she winked and let her shirt drop to the floor, “we’re good,” then slipped her hand into his.

~~~~

After a couple of rounds of blissful activity, she had asked if he wanted to discuss anything. Curling around her, he assured her that he was fine—he was good. 

So much for putting myself first.

He'd told her that he didn’t have anything to talk about, and though he still isn’t ready to have what he is sure will be an intensely charged conversation, it’s a little disconcerting when he finds her pillow vacant and the sheets cold. She rarely leaves the bed before him, and he worries that maybe he has missed something. He aggressively tosses the covers aside, and the sudden movement causes Miracle to sit up, an expectant tilt to his head as he stares from his bed across the room.

“C’mere, buddy,” Dean pats his chest, and the pup scuttles across the floor, hopping onto the bed. Turning his head to avoid a full-face lick, he catches sight of the note propped against the light on his nightstand. He gives Miracle a big hug before reaching over for the folded card.

Flipping it open, he throws his head back with a roar of laughter, reading the first line, ‘You were VERY good!’, causing Miracle to bark and howl in response. The dog pounces around, pulling and twisting the bedding, and Dean takes a moment to calm him before reading the rest of the note.

‘Sorry, I’m not there. Needed to run some errands. I’ll bring back some pie.’ 

Tilting the small card, he smiles, seeing the shiny imprint of her lips as a signature, and brings it to his nose. The faint aroma of the honey-flavored lip balm she wears dispels the last of his uneasiness.

“Whelp,” Dean sighs, rubbing the top of the shaggy mutt’s head, “looks like it’s you and me again today, boy. What should we do?”

Bored out of his mind, Dean absently flips through channels. It’s a barrage of Christmas movies, holiday cooking shows, and ads hawking cheesy decorations, cheaply made toys, and useless gadgets. Pressing the off button, he tosses the remote onto the table. Miracle lifts his head from Dean’s lap at the disturbance and looks up excitedly.

Running his hand down the dog’s back, he mutters, “I don’t know about you, bud, but this isn’t cutting it.” Since their lives have calmed, the days of idleness are running together into a neverending blur of sloth. He’s not sure how much longer he can handle it before he goes all serial killer.

Looking at his watch, he jolts with concern. It’s almost 3:00, and he still hasn’t heard from Nicole. Donna had texted him a couple of times, asking off-the-wall questions like what his favorite donut was and his preferred choice of toppings. Not random at all, but whatever, he’s always down to talk about food. His phone vibrates as he reaches toward his back pocket, chuckling as the word ‘home’ appears on his screen beneath Nicole’s name as if she read his mind.

“Let’s go see our girl,” he smiles at Miracle, who trots happily next to him out of the room and down the hallway.

Nic is setting bags on the wooden table as he and Sam walk into the kitchen from opposite directions. “Hey, glad you’re both here,” she smiles. “Would you mind getting the rest of the things out of my car while I put the groceries away?”

She turns into his embrace when he grabs her hips, wrapping her arms around his neck, and whispers, “I brought you two pies.” 

“Sweet talker,” he smiles into the light peck he plants on her lips. Sam clears his throat, and Dean pulls her closer, intensifying the kiss. 

Nic lightly slaps his chest when he finally lets her go. “You just can’t help yourself, can you.”

Wiggling his eyebrows, he teases, “Not when it comes to you.”

“That’s not what I meant, and you know it.” Raising her own brow, she fixes him with a stern gaze, letting him know that she knows the deeper kiss had been more about annoying Sam than a greeting of affection to her.

With a smirk, he turns to Sam, “C'mon, Sammy. Let’s do as the lady asked.”

As they head out of the room, she laughs to herself, hearing Dean chastise his brother. “Did you hear that? Two pies. Nic NEVER forgets my pie.”

With the brothers helping, the groceries were put away in record time. Setting the last jar of peanut butter in the cupboard, Nic laments, “I’m starving. I haven’t eaten since breakfast.” 

“Well, you bought enough food to feed a pack of wolves, so why don’t I make some sandwiches?”

“That would be wonderful.” She squeezes his ass as she passes behind him. “Thank you.”

“Hey, watch it, Grabby McHandsy.”

Smiling sweetly, she pouts, “I couldn’t help myself.” 

“You two make me sick,” Sam huffs, but Dean hears the undertone of amusement and laughs.

As he begins to pull ingredients from the fridge, Nic asks Sam to help her with the rest of the packages on the table. 

Carrying a plate of food for each of them, Dean joins them in the library about ten minutes later. Nic pours him a drink as he sets a plate down in front of her. “Who are those for?” he asks, spying the stack of brightly wrapped boxes on the other table.

“Just a few small gifts for family and friends. There’s one for you,” she tosses out and hums between bites, “Best food ever.”

“It’s just a sandwich.” Dean amusedly shakes his head. “You always say that.” 

“That’s because it’s always true.” Holding her glass in salute, she cheers, “To the best chef I know. Thank you.”  

Setting his plate down, he hands the final one to Sam. Moving to the end of the other table, he sifts through the boxes, looking for one with his name on the tag. Shaking it when he finds it, he asks, “Can I open it?”

“Yep.”

The too-quick response makes him eye her skeptically. “It’s not a gag gift, is it? Nothing’s going to pop out and try to scare me? Cause you know, I don’t scare that easy.”

“Cat,” Sam coughs, trying to hide his smirk behind his hand.

“Yorkie,” Nic mumbles, biting her lip as she turns away.

“Very funny. Two comedians, huh? You do remember that I nearly died, right?” he huffs.

Nic smiles sweetly and pouts, “I do, babe, and I’m thankful every day that you didn’t.”

“Hmph,” he rolls his eyes in annoyance, “whatever.”

“Go ahead. Nothing weird is going to happen.”

Excitedly ripping off the paper, he then places the box on the table to open it. Peeling back the layer of tissue paper inside reveals red and black checked flannel, and he teases, “Are you regifting the shirt you stole from me?” 

“Ha! Now, who thinks he’s on Comedy Central.” She pulls out the material and stands, holding the garment up to him.

“Pajama pants?”

“Yeah, I thought they would be fun to wear for-” She cuts herself off, clears her throat, and then grabs an unwrapped box, quickly opening it to show him the contents. “They match mine, and I thought they could be part of a new tradition. They’re soooo soft and will keep us warm on movie nights. But it's not a big deal if you don’t like them.”

Her wide grin and sparkling eyes do a number on his heart, and he can’t help but return her smile as he leans down to kiss her. “Thank you.”

Taking the box from her, he sets it on the table next to his, noticing a name he doesn’t recognize on one of the packages, and asks, “Who’s Stacey?”

“A new friend and Sam’s girlfriend,” she matter-of-factly replies.

Sam chokes, spitting the bite of the sandwich he had just taken back onto his plate, and Nic quickly covers her mouth, trying not to snort as she laughs. 

“I knew it!” Dean blurts, pointing a finger and leveling a smug look at his brother before snapping his head back in her direction. “Wait, how did you know?”

“After a post office run a while back, I decided to treat myself to a coffee from the bookstore cafe that I like. I caught sight of Sam through the window as I was crossing the street. He and a curly-haired woman were making lovey-dovey faces at each other.”

Dean snickers when Nic puckers her lips, imitating kissing noises, and Sam huffs that he was doing no such thing.

“Anyway, I knew Sam would clock me the moment I entered, so I came home and waited for him to tell us about her, but he never did. A couple of weeks later, I was in town again to pick up some holiday cheer I had ordered. She was in the cafe, sitting at the same table. I knew Sam was still at the bunker, so I decided to introduce myself. See if I could find out how serious things are and whether I needed to have the ‘don’t hurt my best friend or I’ll have to kill you’ talk with her.”

Sam slumps in his chair, his cheeks almost crimson, and Dean can’t help the proud smile splitting his face. She loves to tease Sam almost as much as he does. Watching his brother’s discomfort grow as Nic continues to speak fills him with wicked glee.

“She was leery of me at first. Thought I might be a jealous ex or a significant other he lied about not having. Once I told her I was in a relationship with his brother, we bonded over having something in common. After all, dating a Winchester isn’t exactly a piece of cake.”

Both men straighten with righteous indignation, but Nic rambles on between bites of Dean’s sandwich that she begins to eat. He opens his mouth to scold her for stealing his food but quickly snaps it shut, reminding himself that she hasn’t eaten since early this morning. He can make another one for himself later. Besides, watching Sam’s flustered irritation is too enjoyable to interrupt.

“She’s a writer …fiction. Good at it, too. She’s let me read some of her stuff. We exchanged numbers and emails and met for coffee several times. I like her. She’s smart, unpretentious, has a sharp sense of humor, and a lovely English accent.” She winks at Sam over the last comment. “We became pretty fast friends, so I invited her to join us on Saturday.” 

“What’s going on Saturday?” Dean suspiciously questions.

“The entire family is coming over.” 

“The entire family? Wait. Is that why Donna has been texting me about donuts?”

“Yep, Jody and the girls, Donna, Garth, Bess, and the kids.” She chuckles, looking over at Sam, “and Stacey.”

Sam’s shoulders roll, and his chest puffs, but she preempts his bitching. “You know, she believes in the supernatural. I know you haven’t told her what we do, but you might be surprised about how accepting she would be of the facts.” 

“Everyone? In my kitchen? Absolutely not!” Dean grouses as he strides around the table, the delight in Sam’s embarrassment shoved from his mind.

“I thought we could have a cookie exchange. Bake some treats? Just spend some time together.“ Nic quickly blocks his exit, placing her hands on his chest. “Look, none of us had a normal childhood. Or anything remotely considered traditional. The good memories are few and far between. It doesn’t have to be a Christmas celebration. We’d be creating our own tradition. We can call it whatever we want. You know, hail the new,” she cheers. “It’s deep-fried dough and piles of sugar. We’ll have pizza and beer. All the things you love!”

Dean inhales sharply, and he’s sure she can feel his heart pounding against his rib cage. Placing a hand on her shoulder, he runs the other through his hair. She’s trying to find a compromise—a way for each of them to enjoy the emotionally charged time of year.   

A warm hand cups the side of his jaw. “You don’t have to join us, but I hope you will. Just think about it?” 

“Yeah… I can do that.” Pulling her into a hug, he whispers, “Can we talk later?”

Arms wrapped tight around his waist, she nods against his chest, whispering back, “Of course.”

Shoving the emotions back into their designated compartments, he brushes a lock of hair back at her temple, then steps back. 

“So what’s in this bag?”

“Shit.” Nic’s hand shoots past his in an attempt to grab the bag’s handle first but ends up knocking the package clear off the table. As their hands grapple to catch it, they both miss, and it lands heavily on the cement floor. The sound of glass shattering fills the space.

Dean’s eyes widen as Miracle rushes over to see what the commotion is about. Nic squats down to grab his collar, “No,” she admonishes him, picking up the bag with her other hand. 

Nic looks up at Dean, eyes misted over as she asks, “Will you please take him while I make sure there’s no glass on the floor?”

“What was in the bag?” 

“N- nothing.” 

“Nico-”

She looks back at the floor and sniffs, “Just take him, please.”

She’s clearly upset about the broken item, but unsure how else to help, he takes hold of the dog’s collar and gently tugs, “C’mon, boy,” taking a few steps away.

After looking over the area, she stands with the bag in hand. Swiping a hand across her cheek, she mumbles, “Floor’s clear; gonna go throw this out,” and practically sprints from the room.

Turning to find that Sam looks as shocked as he feels, Dean asks, “You know what was in there?”

“Not a clue,” Sam shakes his head and shrugs.

Scrubbing a hand down his face, Dean growls, “Son of a bitch.”

Next

Love Me Some Pie tag list:

@akshi8278 // @asgoodasdancingqueen // @calaofnoldor // @compresshischest09 // @deanwanddamons // @flamencodiva // @idreamofplaid // @jerkbitchidjitassbutt // @justrealizedimmascifygurl // @michellethetvaddict // @mvdeanw // @shawnie74 // @siospins2 // @thinkinghardhardlythinking // @thoughts-and-funnies // @waynes-multiverse // @wayward-and-worn // @waywardbaby // @weepingwillowphoenix

[borathae]

Ooommgggg the YEARNING!! I’m not crying you are!! 😭😭😭

1- I understand Yoongi I truly do but I understand my little baby oc too 🥺🥺🥺 Like Yoongi doesn’t know what really happened so he’s hurt because he thinks that she did things behind his back and my precious oc is scared because she thinks that there will be a fight again because of her and maybe Taetae is going to leave the crew omg i’m gonna cry again 🥺🥺

2- And you know i was so mad at Tae but after last chapter…i’m not THAT mad anymore 🥺 Like despite all the things he chose to stay for oc 🥺 i mean he still acts like a fucking shitbag because of the Jimin’s influence but…deep down i know he still cares and yearn for oc sooo i’m waiting for his redemption 😌 (i still want to murder that Jimin prick btw)

3- God i want MV!Yoongi in my life like he’s so hurt and maybe mad but he still thinks of her wellbeing and even try to comfort her 🥺 ‘tree’ i was so done after that Sibibaby you have no idea maybe it’s just a small thing but still made me teary and soft 🥺🥺🩵

4- Can we say that Kookie is the best boyfriend (beside Yoongi Boongie ofc) ??? 😌🩵 i’d want Tae to see Jungkookie’s lockscreen you know 😏🩵

5- Pinky finger 😭😭😭 omg woman i said don’t make me cry, didn’t i??? How dare you? 😭😭😭

6- Jungkookie is genius omg i laughed out loud at the end and you know i was like ‘hell yeah my good boy you did so well!!!’ 🩵🤣🤣

7- oh and i almost forgot something 😏😏😏😏

‘’He does. Although I hope that you guys talk soon. I can’t bear to watch you guys fight”, he says and pouts, “it’s like watching my parents fight.”

Ahhahahagaga omg I can’t with this boy! Although i can picture them as Jungkookie’s mommy and daddy too 😏 I’m with u on this Hobie 😏

Okayyy Sibibaby now please tell me that they’ll talk a lot (like A LOT) in the attic room 🥺🥺🩵 Love ya lots and can’t wait for the next chapter 🩵🩵💜

THANK YOU for that analysis. I definitely think that that's the case :( as we all learned already, her parents kinda drilled the whole "you are always at fault" mindset into her, so it's understandable that she goes back to "I'm guilty" now that she angered her love :(

SAME ahahaha believe it or not, but I do love my tete jafdsjf and I want him and OC to make up afjdjfa

TREE jfjadsfjsja I love Yoongi so much :( it's getting a fucking problem :(

RIGHT?? Kookie is so fucking cute :( he is always so gentle and respectful with her :( istfg I love how he talks to her. I always imagine him using a tender, soft spoken voice with her and that HURTS ME fnadnf

PINKY FINGER!!!! not gonna lie, that part broke me :( it's so fucking CUTE

hahhahah he is such a sneaky genius istfg I love this man

RIGHT?? I CAN PICTURE IT AS WELL OMFG why do I see like a pegging/anal scene where YOongi and OC take turns in fucking Kook's pretty ass and he is just laying there in the sheets, drooling all over them and spilling subby tears as tiny little "mommy"s and "daddy"s spill out of him 😩😩

MAYBE THEY WILL TALK jaahah I cannot say more I am bound by the oath of secrecy JFJADJF

[pavvo20]

The Spark - Chapter 13: For Shara.. - Poe Dameron/OC

Summary: When her childhood best friend recruits her during an undercover mission for the Resistance, Captain Kara Embers embraces her family legacy and joins the fight against the First Order. As the secrets of her past come to light, Kara never expects to be training with her mom’s best friend, flying her father’s ship, and falling in love with the Yavin-4 boy who always said he’d be the galaxy’s best pilot.

A/N: SO sorry for the delay on this one.. but it's 13K words so.. maybe I made up for it? LOL We finally get a little more than sexual tension in this chapter.. SMUT has arrived. so MINORS GTFO (Not to be rude but...keep your innocence)

Warnings: violence, language, sarcasm, moodiness, whump, fluff, kissing, ya know.. all that stuff. smut and well, ghosts.

Links: Chapter 1 | Chapter 2 | Chapter 3 | Chapter 4| Chapter 5 | Chapter 6 | Chapter 7 | Chapter 8 | Chapter 9 | Chapter 10| Chapter 11

Masterlist on my blog!

Word Count - 13K

Poe’s knees slammed into the cold floor, pain shooting through his body like a ship in hyperspace. He should have kept his mouth shut. 

“Where is she, Dameron?” The Knight of Ren snapped as the pilot was forced to look at his mask. 

“I don’t know.” He hissed, feeling his wrists being shoved into a set of binders as the troopers stripped him of his blaster and commlink before leaving him alone with Ren’s associate. 

“You expect me to believe that?” The voice was cold but familiar, only slightly modified by a system in the dark mask. Poe glared hard at the emotionless face, resisting the temptation to spit at him. They were going to torture him, whether they were ordered to or not. The worst part is he didn’t actually have anything to hide from them this time. Maker, if these guys only knew that for once he was telling the truth.

“Considering it’s the truth…yea.” Poe snapped, only to feel a few thousand volts of electricity rip through his muscles for a few seconds. He groaned as the pain subsided, catching the Knight’s fingers on the tiny remote as he blinked back a few frustrated tears.  

“Hope you said your goodbyes, Dameron.” The Knight reached up, pulling his mask from his face. Poe choked on bile as he registered why the dark figure had sounded so familiar. He could only hope he didn’t actually throw up. “Especially to the pretty girl you are trying so hard to hide.” 

Alexander Pierce smirked as genuine surprise rippled across Poe’s features. Of all the people in the galaxy, the last person he’d expected to see again was him, especially after Leia had sent him to Hoth. Ren must have really trusted Pierce to take him back into his ranks. That or he had gotten close enough to Kara for Ren to get the information he desired. They had clearly underestimated just how important he was to the First Order. 

“Always knew you were a traitor.” Poe growled, shifting his wrists uncomfortably behind him as he tried his best to sit up straighter. 

“You never did like me…and well, look where that’s gotten you.” Pierce zapped him again, finding pleasure in the sound of the rebel’s anguished cries. He’d always wanted a chance to knock the bold pilot down a peg, show him that he wasn’t as special as everyone cracked him up to be. Dameron was just a cocky kid from Yavin whose parents had been friends with Leia. 

And now he was a prisoner of the First Order, writhing on his knees in front of him, only a few more shocks away from pleading for his life. He was no one again. Just like he’d been when he was born. 

Poe’s body lurched forward when the current stopped, his eyes squeezed shut and his head pounding as it hung limply over his chest. This was going to be a long afternoon, especially with the sick drive he knew Pierce had. 

“I don’t know where she is, Alex.” Dameron croaked, “It was a covert operation. Above my clearance.” 

“Nothing is above your clearance, Poe.” Pierce crouched down in front of him, pulling his head back by his curls. “There isn’t a rebel secret you don’t know about as the Resistance golden boy.” 

“Takes one to know one.” The rebel quipped, looking down his nose to see the other man blink slowly in annoyance, “Couldn’t convince Leia, so you went for her son.” 

Poe braced himself for the shock this time, groaning through it like a general irritation. He could see Pierce’s patience thinning, clearly letting himself become more and more unhinged with each verbal jab he threw at him.

Pierce’s hand let go of his hair as he walked away from him. “We’re gonna play this game until you tell me what I need to know.” 

“Then you better hope these have a full battery…” The pilot shrugged his shoulders. “Cause we’re gonna be here for a while.” 

“You’ll be a shell of yourself when I’m done with you.” 

“Pierce, I genuinely don’t know where she is. Go get your boss and have him pry my head open, I am telling you the truth.” 

Pierce glared at him, seeing that Poe wasn’t giving him the same steely stubborn stare that he had been just a few minutes ago. There was pain and vulnerability in it now, something he’d only seen from the man once before. 

It was when they’d rolled his girl down the cargo ramp of the Millenium Falcon on a stretcher, she was barely alive after a fiery crash in her X-Wing on Yavin. It was one of his fellow Knights that had knocked her out of the sky that day…in an attempt to kill the pilot he had in front of him right now. 

The door to the pod slid open to reveal an unmasked Kylo Ren. His eyes met with the captured pilot immediately, feeling Poe’s anxiety spike in the Force. “Ahh…Commander Dameron.”

“Ben Solo.” Poe’s words rumbled in his chest as he felt Ren press onto him with the Force. His body went rigid as the strong aura met his own, that was until Pierce pressed the button on his cuffs again. 

“No need for that, Captain.” Ren soothed, causing the current to stop coursing through Poe’s muscles. “At least not yet.” 

Poe glared at the Supreme Leader as he took his chin in his hand, looking down on him smugly. The commander hardened his mental defenses, knowing that it was a matter of time before the man started wearing him down. If anything, Ren would use his memories to check on Kara, get a better idea of just how strong she’d become. He wasn’t going to get a location… cuz well, he didn’t have it. 

Leia ensured that he didn’t, having tricked his mind even before he left. Just in case. 

“I figure it’s safe to assume you’ve learned nothing from our last encounter?” Ren teased, seeing the trademark stubborn stare in Dameron’s amber eyes. 

“I wouldn’t say that.” Poe said through gritted teeth,”I definitely learned something, you just aren’t going to like what it is.” 

Ren’s blood started to boil. Maker, Poe was irritating. Especially when he was confident. Pierce was supposed to demoralize him…but then again, he should have known better than to leave that job up to him. 

He pushed into his head, only to be met with Poe’s reinforced skills. The pilot wasn’t kidding that he’d learned something, that was for certain. It would just make it that much more satisfying to break him. 

“Where’s our favorite girl, Dameron?” 

“As I told your lacky, I don’t know.” He was crass as his eyes rolled. “Your mother kicked me out of the meeting.” 

Ren looked amused for a second, noticing the pilot’s exasperated tone. “Kicked you out huh? Might be that bomber battalion you sacrificed earlier.” 

Poe’s confidence drained from his aura as his face remained unchanged; “I don’t know where she is, Ben. I just know she’s alive.” 

“You’ve practiced lying…cuz if I didn’t know better, I’d be inclined to believe you.” Ren smirked at Poe, and before he could say anything further, he wrapped the force around the pilot's neck, muting his next comment with a strangled breath. “I know you know where she is, Poe.” 

The rebel commander could feel his defenses slipping as his strength faded with every restricted breath. He strained and struggled, hoping he would pass out before Ren let go, only to hit the floor in a huffing heap. 

“I don’t…” he wheezed, rolling on to his back so he could look at his captor. “See for yourself.” 

Ren cocked an eyebrow as he felt the other man’s Force signature shift, allowing him access to his thoughts. Poe winced as he felt the cold aura intertwine with his, the helplessness of his predicament threatening to overcome him. He did his best to relax in an attempt to keep Ren from digging for more than just Kara’s location. 

The dark signature burned as it seeped into his head, wrapping itself around the memories of leaving the briefing room, the locator beacon around his neck, and his arms wrapped tightly around her right before she boarded the Falcon. Poe could feel Kylo Ren growing frustrated as he retreated from his thoughts. “So you weren’t lying..” 

“Told you.” Dameron murmured weakly, his soft eyes peering up at him from the floor. Ren almost felt bad for him, that was until he reminded himself that the pilot was what stood between him and the most powerful Force bond in recent history. 

“You’re scared she’s going to go dark.” Kylo sneered, pressing Poe’s shoulder down with his boot so he couldn’t lean up. “She went to find Skywalker.” 

Poe shot forward in bed, his heart racing as his eyes adjusted to the faint morning sun. It didn’t take long for him to recognize that it was all just a dream, especially when he glanced to his left to find the top of Kara’s head poking out from under his quilt. 

Thankfully, she was not disturbed — her even breaths apparent by the subtle rising and falling of her form next to him. They had trained late last night, Luke had pressed into his head to try and rattle him but didn’t get very far before he’d blocked him out, proving just how strong he could be with Kara around. 

Dameron let himself sink back down into his pillows, running a hand through his curls as he recalled a bit of his dream. It was Luke who had asked him how he would have handled being captured, especially had they snagged him during yesterday morning’s attack. He didn’t have a great answer for him last night and his imagination clearly had put more thought into it than he had. 

He let his gaze wander to the strands of brown to blonde hair that had slipped out from under the quilt as she shifted in her sleep. For the first time since she’d left, she found solace in having him right by her side again. 

“Maker, you are so beautiful.” Poe whispered as he smoothed a strand away from her face, knowing she wouldn’t hear him. Or at least she would act like she didn’t. One day, he knew she’d confess to hearing every word he said while he thought she was asleep, but he didn’t mind. He’d shout the same sentiments across a galaxy-wide comms channel if they’d let him.

Kara hummed as she felt his lips graze her forehead in a featherlight kiss. She had gotten used to waking up cold and alone, often wishing Chewy would let her cling to him for warmth while she trained on Aoch To. After their tough session with Luke and Leia last night, she had thrown herself into Poe’s arms when they’d gotten back to their room. She felt the man’s heart swell with relief as he kissed her passionately without any hesitation. Kara’s own senses were overwhelmed with the smell of his sandalwood cologne, jet fuel, and a sage from the Ajon Kloss forest almost instantly, bringing her the immediate comfort she craved from the second she landed. 

They had showered together that night, only to pass out within minutes of hitting the mattress. She had stolen one of his favorite T-shirts to wear as he tugged on a pair of sweats. He was pretty sure they’d be out of them again just as quickly as they’d put them on…but their overwhelming desire to sleep had won out. 

“Morning sweetheart.” She heard Poe coo, his nose gently nuzzling her cheek as he pulled her close to his chest. Her skin was still buttery smooth from her moisturizer. 

“Morning to you too, Flyboy.” Her voice was light and affectionate while still being laced with sleep. Her emerald green eyes sparkled in the early morning glow as they found Poe’s for a second before capturing his lips in hers. She felt him sigh, his hand running along the curve of her back. 

Kara pulled away for a moment, staying millimeters from her pilot’s lips as her fingers got tangled in the curls at the base of his neck. He had neglected getting a haircut while she was gone, but she didn’t mind. For as many times as she tugged on them in the last few hours, she couldn’t imagine it would be too much longer before Poe finally made it to the on-base barber. 

He felt his mother’s ring bump his chest as Kara rolled him to his back, hitching a leg softly over his hip. The soft white light of the sun highlighted her face in all the right places, showing him her dusty freckles as she stayed close to him. He wanted nothing more than to freeze time right then and there — knowing at any second, the war would force them both back to reality. She was always gorgeous to him when she just woke up, right before her obligations caught up to her, and he wished he could show her that just once. Just so she would believe him. 

She kissed him one more time, stealing his breath before getting out of their shared bed. They had a squadron drill that morning, one that Kara couldn’t wait to be a part of. In fact, it was the only thing she wanted more than a few more hours with Poe — and given her beautiful T-70 X-Wing had been sitting in the hanger waiting for a reason to get off the ground for the last week — he certainly wasn’t going to be the one to get in her way. 

He bit back a whimper as her warmth left him for the fresher. “It’s my drill, you know? We could just be late.” 

Kara poked her head out to smile at him, hearing the playful undertone to his voice. “Pretty sure we took care of any obvious reason for tardiness last night.” 

Poe slipped out of bed and walked slowly over to her, tossing the washcloth she had in her hand into the empty sink while softly bumping her against the vanity countertop with his body. His eyes were already blown out with lust, “That’s not what my t-shirt is saying…” 

Before she could protest, he had his lips on hers again, his hands roaming from the edge of the vanity to the swell of her backside. He let a groan escape him as he lifted her up onto the counter, her legs wrapping around his hips as they pulled him flush to her core. 

Poe’s breath hitched as his body started to react, feeling that she was already damp for him. It became obvious that while he had been dreaming about telling Ren the truth, she’d been lost in a completely separate fantasy — one she’d never admit to sober but seemed perfectly ok with fulfilling right that second. Kara softly moaned as she felt him twitch from under his sweatpants, his hands ghosting over the edge of her shirt as he led a trail of kisses down her neck. 

“Poe…” She whined, her hands running routes down the muscles in his back as he teased her a little more. Her body betrayed her as she tried her best to temper Poe’s advances. The man knew her better than she knew herself, and he could tell she wanted this just as bad as he did. 

“Don’t tell me we can’t..” He growled, his breath hot on her skin as his own arousal started to really build. Kara had cut him off before, but that wasn’t about to happen again. Not today. Not if he had anything to say about it. 

She dryly laughed, her own lips finding the soft skin under his ear as she shoved at the waistband of his pants. It was too late to turn back now. “Then quit playing games.” 

She felt him smirk against her as he turned his attention back to her swollen lips, yanking his shirt clean over her head in the process. His arms cradled her now naked form back to their bed, his kisses becoming more and more fervent. Kara matched his pace, her hand drifting down his chest and into his sweats to palm his throbbing cock. 

Kara’s own arousal twisted in her gut as Poe’s primal grunt set her on fire. He was already rock hard in her hand, precum smearing across its head and the soft fleece of his pants as she dragged the fabric over his overstimulated member. He looked as if he could explode at any second, but she knew better. 

Poe was undeniably good at delaying his own pleasure. Especially when it was a tease for whomever he had in bed. There was nothing that turned Kara on more than the sounds he’d make as he rapidly approached his climax — the groans, grunts, moans, and murmurs could get her off all on their own — and that was before his cock ever got close to her primed pussy. 

Least that’s what she thought. 

Every female on that base had a story about him, especially the ones who had gotten lucky enough to steal his attention for a night. Poe had quite the bedroom reputation, one that Kara could confirm was mostly false. He wasn’t anything special size wise and he was far from a deviant or anything like that. Sure, he liked to experiment from time to time but it was his attention to detail that usually bought him some bonus points when he did get someone to bed. Poe was careful and calculated, just like he was in the cockpit of his X-wing…remembering exactly what made his partners tick from the second their night started to the moment it all came to an end. 

Kara would never forget the first time she’d slept with Poe. He had actually almost died that day, his X-wing bouncing off the tarmac like a toy as he came in a little too fast and hard from lightspeed. Miraculously, most of the squadron had been there to yank him out of the wreckage and salvage most of his ship as Leia dragged his butt to the med bay for an evaluation. He’d snuck out later that night, his concussed brain taking him to her door… 

“Hey…I don’t usually do this but I can’t actually remember my room number right now” Poe stuttered nervously as Kara leaned in her doorframe, seemingly unamused. Jess had just left for her overnight mission and she’d changed into a pair of sweats and a tank top to binge a holodrama for the night when he’d knocked at her door. She had literally just texted him back, knowing he was being kept for observation…and well, he clearly had other ideas. 

“Poe, how did you -” She started, only to see the shadow of what looked like their general coming around the corner. “Get in here.” 

She tugged him through the door by his shirt, the door whooshing shut as his chest bumped hers and his rattled brain struggled to make sense of what was happening. Poe had kissed her for the first time only a few days before, on his father’s front porch, he could remember that. They were officially but unofficially dating at this point - only a handful of people knew about it. He hadn’t been that close to her since their kiss and Maker, she was beautiful that night… 

Kara paused as she surveyed Poe’s wandering eyes, his hands coming to rest on her arms as he kept himself from falling on top of her. He was lucid, mostly himself from what she could see in his gaze, but clearly a little shaken up. 

So, typical Poe. Depending on who you asked. 

“It was the blonde who let you out wasn’t it?” Kara asked coyly, catching her friend’s guilty smile as she gently released the cotton of his shirt. “Told her you’d buy her a drink?” 

“Maybe.” 

“Guess old habits die hard.” She said, brushing a loose curl from his brow as he blushed. 

“I owe you one too.” He replied, his eyes drifting to her lips as she laughed. “Though I may owe you dinner, since harboring a fugitive is a lot harder than assisting in an escape.” 

“Finn would beg to differ.” His hands fell to hers, playing with her fingers a second before she went to turn away. Poe tugged on her right hand, twirling her back into his arms as if he’d planned it. His heart skipped a beat when he caught the surprised look on her face just before she gave him her trademark inquisitive stare. “What? He would?”

“Can I kiss you again?” Poe whispered, feeling her arms come to rest on his shoulders. He caught her glance down at his lips as she maintained her composure quite well, considering he could feel her heart pounding against his chest.

Her glittering green eyes met his soft chocolate stare, the dim lights of the dorm twinkling in their reflection. “Yes.” 

Poe dipped his head down fitting his lips between hers in a soft yet needy interaction. It started rather innocently until Kara had tangled her fingers in his hair and deepened the kiss with some soft pressure from her tongue. Poe guided them softly to her bed, feeling a bit weightless as he settled over her, pausing only for a second to admire her as she reached for him once more. He stiffened for a second as his logical brain reminded him that it was his best friend and future second in command that he had just straddled. This would definitely change their relationship — no, it could change their entire dynamic. Kara felt him hesitate, sensing him starting to resist. His mind getting the better of him.

“Poe.” She said, her hand guiding his lust-blown eyes back up to her own. “It’s ok.” 

Her chest was heaving as her heart raced with anticipation. Each of his advances had been so careful from the way he’d gotten his fingers through her hair or the slight pressure he’d pressed against her back to ease her down onto her bed. His kisses were desperate but methodical, carefully encouraging her to give him a little more or a little less at just the right moments. She had followed his lead willingly and whole-heartedly, knowing damn well that they may end up going further than they had planned. She had accepted that when he had shown up at her door. 

She saw a bit of anxiety cross his brow, “I’m serious Poe, I want this. I want you.” 

Not much had changed since that first night, other than now they often battled for dominance early on rather than simply following one’s lead. It was a consequence of knowing entirely too much about each other while also trusting each other enough to go entirely with the flow of the moment. 

“Maker, you feel so good.” He huffed, burying himself to the hilt only moments after losing his sweats. Kara had told him to cut the chase and he knew better than to disobey such a direct order. She was close, he could feel it, and she wanted to reach her end right as he did. 

Poe found a rhythm in his thrusts seamlessly as Kara’s cries of ecstasy rang in his ears. Only a few minutes passed when her orgasm broke a half beat before his own, her core clenching around him as her body worked through its own paces. She had muffled her blissful cry in his shoulder as he kept himself from collapsing directly on top of her. Mission accomplished. 

“So, how late are we?” Kara murmured as she felt Poe’s curls brush her cheek as he shifted his gaze back to her. She definitely still looked absolutely cockdrunk, as evident by the adorably amused grin that was plastered on his face. 

“Not sure what you’re talking about. We’re right on time.” He winked as Kara’s eyes rolled. It didn’t matter how many soldiers Poe led into battle, he would still always be a bit of a goofball. Her goofball. 

She looked at the clock as she eased herself up off the mattress, guiding herself back to the fresher to rinse off. “Oh,” she laughed, “you actually weren’t kidding.” 

Poe’s eyes darted to the clock, only for his surprise to shift to a bit of overconfidence when he noticed that they had twenty minutes before they were needed in the hangar. Kara knew he had no idea what time it was when he’d hijacked their morning, but was going to let him have this one. 

The pilot sat up in bed, listening to the running water and the light humming of his girlfriend in the shower. Gods, he had underestimated how much he missed that sound the last week and a half. Kara almost always had a song stuck in her head. It was something she used to calm her always racing mind…and he only ever heard her humming out loud when she was truly at peace. 

According to Jess and  Snap, there were only two places one could be lucky enough to catch her in the act — in the shower or underneath a ship alone in the hangar. 

Poe had caught her humming during take-off too…but he kept that to himself. 

Kara emerged from the shower, still humming away as she braided her damp hair back and popped her favorite sports bra on under a dark tank top. He immediately noticed his mother’s ring sparkle against the fabric as she emerged for her flight suit. It was hard to imagine her without it. For all intents and purposes, it truly was hers now. He would just have to find a creative way to tell her that. 

He also knew that if he asked Kara to marry him right now, she’d probably slap him harder than Leia had. It was a bad time… not that there ever was a good time to ask someone that when you both dedicated yourselves to fighting a seemingly endless war. 

He was only a few steps from the shower when Kara stopped him with a light touch to his chest. She didn’t say a word as she flipped the chain from her neck back to his. She suddenly looked sadder than she had all morning. 

“Kara..what’s..” His voice trailed off. Poe stopped in the fogged up mirror when it finally dawned on him what day it was. He immediately felt like a child again, remembering his dad handing him the necklace that gleamed up at him in his reflection. It was the day they’d found her ship - and changed his life forever.

Poe took the memento in his hand, holding back the urge to break down right then and there. He glanced out to the bedroom to see Kara at her desk, the solemn look still on her face as she paged through her technical manual. She was trying to distract herself…until he remembered the pictures she had nestled between the pages. 

The pilot rinsed out his hair and dried off before approaching his girl, careful to not scare her as she shuffled through the stack of memories. She carefully slipped one out of the back of the manual as she leaned into his body from her seated position. The crinkled photo showed both Kara and Poe, barely four or five years old, giggling away with Shara Bey on the porch swing of the Dameron Ranch. It had been a shot Kes had captured for sure, but Poe had never seen it before. Not even in the personal album his dad hid from him for years. 

“Where did you get that one?” He asked, his voice even as he could make it. Her desk was littered with memories of Yavin. Many of them wrinkled and faded like the one he took in his hands.  Kara sensed his overwhelming grief almost immediately as his mind flipped back to the fuzzy memory. They were together for a quiet Saturday of bonfires and casual conversation. He and Kara would romp through the fields and the small forest clusters for hours on end, making up adventures as they went, while their parents would sit and talk until the sun went down.  

“Your dad gave it to me when she passed.” She said, tears starting to stream down her cheeks. “I only look at it on her day.” 

Poe’s heart swelled as they both spoke: “because it was taken on her day.” 

Two years after the photograph they admired was taken, the woman laughing with them on the swing, died protecting her only son from the very forces he would grow up to fight decades later. 

He set the photo back in Kara’s technical manual as he took a deep breath. He was determined to get through the morning without crying. He had to be stronger about this. He had his own little family to protect now. It’s what his mother would want – hell, it would be what she would expect from her own son. 

They had drills to run. The perimeter wasn’t going to protect itself. And if he was ever going to get his rank back, he needed to fall in line. He usually never flew on the day of his mother’s passing. He always felt it may bring bad luck…but with the war raging on, it was getting harder and harder to avoid it. Typically, he would have taken the day off and went to see his dad but given the last few weeks, he figured it was a bad time. 

There was never a good time for anything – but leaving the base when there were bounties on his head would be incredibly stupid. Especially when he had a feeling that Ren was keeping a watchful eye on the ranch. 

Kara wiped her tears away and stood up, pulling the necklace out from under his jacket. “She’d want us to fly today, babe.” 

Poe’s voice got stuck in his throat as he struggled to keep himself together. Kara was right. If anything, his mother would want him in his cockpit - no matter how bad of an idea that he thought it was. She would want them both doing what they could to get the galaxy she knew and loved back from the First Order. 

The man closed his eyes as Kara’s arms snaked around his waist and her head came to rest against his chest. He’d need her more than he’d ever admit that day. People expected him to be strong, fearless, and confident — laughing in the face of weakness like he did any other day — but this was a loss that weighed heavier on him than most. 

“Then we better get going.” He said, sneaking a little bravado into his tone. Kara was right. They needed to continue the fight – for everyone that believed in them and all those lost recently – but especially for Shara Bey.  

*********

Leia had experienced her own debilitating losses over her lifetime, but Shara’s would always be a tough one to bear. Similar to Han’s, the suddenness and shock would never wear off…even almost two decades later. 

She would never forget how distraught Kes had been. The seasoned combat veteran was reduced to a shell of himself for weeks, trudging through his own debilitating grief to best care for his son. His sole mission in life at that point was to keep little Poe out of harm’s way… and give him the peaceful life that he and Shara fought so hard to provide for him on Yavin. 

Kes was grieving more than his wife that day… as he knew, right as he caught his young son leaving his hiding spot in their living room after receiving the news, that there would be nothing peaceful about their son’s life from that day on. 

Luke was in a deep meditation when she brought herself out of the fresher that morning. Least that was how he appeared before he spoke. “Still feels like yesterday that we lost Shara.” 

She softly smiled, grief still evident in her stare. “This is going to be a tough day for a lot of us. Always is.” 

From Leia’s window, they could see many of the squadrons prepping for their morning drills. Mechanics were tinkering away as droids hustled to their positions. The only ships that remained dormant were the most menacing of the bunch…Kara Embers’ and Poe Dameron’s T-70s. 

That was until she noticed his loyal BB unit weaving between fellow pilots toward the dark ship. BB-8 had R2 in tow…both pausing briefly next to the dark fighters, taking initial logistics scans. 

Leia picked up her data pad, scrolling to the morning call sheet to see all of Black Squadron had been changed to active per a briefing that happened earlier that morning. She knew better than anyone that their Commander - well, Captain - never piloted his own ship on the anniversary of his mother’s death. Not unless the very galaxy depended on it. 

And last time she checked, threats were currently at a relatively low level. Even in their usual hot spots. 

Luke joined her at the window, placing a comforting arm around her shoulder as she messaged Connix for more information only to get no response. 

“You’re tense.” He said.

“Something’s up.” She replied.

“Leia, they’re running drills.” 

“It’s not that.” She snapped, setting her pad down and heading toward the door. There was no way her top two pilots and their support staff were not looking at their data pads — and she was not about to be ignored. 

“Wait.” Luke said, motioning his sister to join him back at her view of the bustling tarmac. “I found them.” 

Poe had waited for most of the hangar to clear to head to his ship. Even more surprising was that he was alone. He was dressed to fly, his helmet hanging loose from his fingertips as he headed toward his fighter. 

Leia’s heart shattered when she saw him reach up to place his hand on the Resistance logo emblazoned on the hull of Black One, his eyes closed in a silent prayer. While not religious by any means, Poe had a habit of always asking his mother to keep an eye on him in the sky… he paused a little longer than usual today, his resolve crumbling a bit as he brushed a few tears from his cheeks. He was doing his best to remain as strong as possible. 

Luke noticed Leia had left him seconds later, seeing her emerge from the hangar doors in a hurry. 

“Poe.” She called, getting the young man’s attention before he took to the ladder next to his starfighter. He froze in place, cocking an eyebrow at his general as she quickly closed the gap between them, her arms wrapping him in a tight hug. 

The young man didn’t move at first, simply trying to figure out how she had gotten to him so fast. It was early for Leia. Especially on a morning where they were running routine drills. “General..” 

“Shhh..” Leia hushed, feeling him start to relax in her embrace. “You don’t need to explain anything, commander.” 

Poe’s emotions broke free at that moment as his arms wrapped around the general. He choked back a sob as he clutched Leia just as tightly as she held him. She could feel him allowing himself to show just how vulnerable he really was, and given he’d always just done his best to push past the trauma that life threw at him…it was a matter of time before it all came to head. 

“She would be so proud of you, Poe.” Leia whispered, “so incredibly proud.” 

Leia didn’t expect him to reply, but smiled as he squeezed her a bit tighter to acknowledge he’d heard her. 

The hangar door squeaked slightly, announcing Kara’s arrival as she smiled softly at the sight of Poe and Leia. If there was anyone she was hoping he would see before they finally took off, it was her. She could already feel his anxiety subsiding and confidence surging, even if he was still emotionally all over the place. 

The general would never say it outloud, but Kara in her flight suit, hair braided back with a few loose strands framing her face, confidence gracing her features and her helmet hanging loose at her fingertips, heavily resembled a young Shara Bey. She let her eyes wander up to wink at the girl as she walked toward them, seeing Poe’s necklace still hanging proudly from her neck. 

Poe pulled away from the general just in time to see her, a genuine smile tugging at his lips as she set her own helmet next to his to wrap Leia in a hug of her own. 

“Take care of him up there today, will you?” Leia whispered.

“Always.” Kara replied as Leia took the silver ring on the chain in between her fingers. She looked just past Kara’s shoulder, seeing Poe’s eyes get misty again. Shara had asked Leia in a dream to talk to her son before he ever thought about marrying someone and Leia honestly never thought she’d get the chance. For years, Poe hadn't been with anyone long enough for it to matter. 

Seeing Shara’s ring around Kara’s neck on easily the most difficult day in Poe’s year made her think that maybe it was time to see exactly where his head was at.

Poe’s eyes caught the sparkle of R2’s blue chrome detailing in his peripheral vision. He was loaded into Kara’s X-wing, replacing her usual BB-6 unit for the morning. It wasn’t a complete surprise to him, given Luke’s presence; he just hoped the older droid could keep up with her. 

“You both better get moving. I’m sure Snap, Kare, and Jess are waiting.” Leia said, smiling as she could see the flicker of childlike excitement in both their eyes. It was almost hard to believe that they’d both born on Yavin and not in the medbay of a freighter or a cruiser. “I’ll see you both when you get back.” 

Kara smirked at Poe, winking as he took his helmet in his hands. She noticed that trademark Dameron grin creeping onto his face. “Let’s do this, Flyboy.” 

Luke was right where Leia had left him when she returned, watching both ships take to the sky in a blinding twinkle of light. A mother’s love was hanging distinctly in the aura that followed his sister back into her quarters. She may have missed Ben, but you’d almost never know it when Kara and Poe were around. 

“Athena really has doubts about him.” Luke said, seeing Leia pull the radar for Black Squadron on her comms panel. The fact that Poe got off the ground at all was monumental, she just wanted to make sure he didn’t lose his confidence. Part of her felt like she owed Shara that much. 

“Dr. Embers knows a very different Poe Dameron than the one you’ve seen over the last few days.” Leia remarked, glancing up from the screen. “And her daughter is the primary reason for that.” 

“Enlighten me.” 

“He reunited with Kara about a year or so ago, after going 10 years without really any contact with her. She left Yavin at 17 and never looked back. He obviously had heard stories about her through New Republic intel streams but figured he’d lost her for good.” 

She sipped lightly on a cup of tea Luke brought her, seeing the information turn in her brother’s mind. 

“He was always rebellious, having spent several years trading spice after he defected from the New Republic. Han pulled him out before he managed to get in too deep, dropping him on my base, as an angsty, stubborn, mess. Athena remembers that because I spent many nights talking to her about him…as I was worried that I was letting Shara down.” 

Luke nodded. That sounded like his sister, always a mother first. 

“Poe has unconsciously been balanced by Kara his entire life. Losing her at such a sensitive time in his life really set him off his axis. He had just started to find himself as a leader when the galaxy put her in that bar with him on Tatooine. He came back from that mission a different person. The young man I sent on a freighter that day was frustrated, lonely, and tired. You would have thought he had gotten some spice in his system when he got back… until she followed him down the ramp.” 

“You think they’ve been bonded since well before he was captured.” 

“I think they were bonded when they were infants…and if not that early, then immediately after Kara’s mother had passed. Kes thinks the same thing.” 

“There are a few ways to find out, but I have a hard time believing he’s going to let me go through his mind far enough to see it.” Luke replied, scratching his beard. “Kara is a better option, but given her recent exposure to Snoke, I’m concerned that Ren may feel my presence.” 

Leia smiled, gently reminding herself of the time Poe had unconsciously blocked Kara’s signature from leaving the room. “We may have a way to prevent that too.” 

“Well, aren’t you all just full of surprises.”  Luke smiled. 

*****************************

She was barely in her hut on Acoh Too when she felt him. He froze her in place with the Force, just like he had so many years ago. 

“If you promise me you won’t scream, I’ll let you go.” His voice was low as she felt his breath tickle her ear in the darkness. “He can’t know that I’m here.” 

Kara shivered, her exhausted body trying its hardest to find the strength to break free all on her own. She couldn’t call to Luke telepathically, couldn’t move, couldn’t speak. She was helpless, even if she didn’t want to admit it to herself. 

Her captor lit a small fire, quickly casting the entire hut in a faint glow. Her eyes widened immediately in shock as a maskless, injured, Kylo Ren sat on the small bed in front of her. 

Ren felt her stiffness, “I don’t want to fight you Kara, I want to talk… if you’ll let me.” 

It took her a minute to comprehend his words as she could see his pain in his grief stricken dark eyes. He was serious. She slowly blinked as she felt the Force loosen from around her a bit. 

“Why should I trust you?” Kara growled, “You’ve given me no reason to before.” 

“Because I’m at more risk here than you are. Especially if Luke senses that I’m here.” 

He wasn’t wrong, Kara mused as she sat down across the small dwelling from him. He was heavily outnumbered considering that Chewy was also on the Falcon only a mere stone’s throw away, not that the combined power of her and the Master Jedi up the hill wasn’t enough to take him on their own. 

“Fair enough.” 

“What happened to us?” He muttered, his eyes locked with hers as he still sensed the tension in his old friend. 

“You threatened me when we were kids, Ben.” She said, matter of factly. “Then you killed a bunch of younglings, countless innocent people, and destroyed several planets…” 

He didn’t speak as she watched him absorb her words. “And that was all before you tortured our mutual friend within inches of his life and killed your father.” 

Kara could see him at war with himself, as the power of the dark side raged to try and stifle the good that was currently driving his decisions. 

“I should have never threatened you like that, I was hurt.” He said as he ran a gloved hand through his hair. “Broken hearted really.” 

“We were ten.” 

“I know, but you were special alright?” Ren’s tone was a bit desperate. “You still are.” 

Kara felt guilt creep up her neck. “Ben.” 

“You don’t have to apologize. You don’t need to say anything actually. I knew it was a long shot.” 

The man that once looked so menacing, had beared down on her with all the malice of a truly vengeful foe was suddenly soft, sorry, and sad. “You didn’t become a doctor either.” 

“I got accepted to the Academy and your dad taught me how to fly.” She muttered as her gaze flicked to the flames in the middle of the room. “I didn’t want to end up like my mother.”  

“You would have never turned out like her.” Ren said, suddenly appearing more and more like the young man that Kara remembered from her childhood. “You were always more like your dad.” 

She softly smiled as the memory of the man wandered through her thoughts. “Thanks.” 

He nodded, listening to the crackling of the fire between them as they both fell silent. He could feel the girl’s apprehension and anxiety coursing through her aura. The anger she had originally met him with, melting away. 

“I didn’t intend on killing my father.” He confessed into empty air. Kara’s gaze immediately jumped back to him. “He offered to help me and.. when I went to hand him my saber, the dark side of me resisted.” 

Kara moved to sit next to him as tears welled up in his eyes. His bravado, shrouded in the darkness of his First Order identity, slipped away. 

“I wasn’t strong enough to fight it and it killed him. Just like it killed all those younglings.” 

Her arms wrapped around him as he openly sobbed, grief overtaking any darkness that lingered as she tried her best to comfort him. For an instant, Kara pushed out all her negative memories of him…choosing to only see the long haired future Jedi padawan she used to spar with when Poe was busy with farm chores. “Ben, you can fight it.” 

“No, I can’t.”

“The only reason Luke hasn’t beaten down this door is because you are doing your best to hide your signature. You are fighting to keep the dark side of it at bay. We were born fighters, Solo.” She whispered, “...remember?” 

Ben Solo pulled back to get a better look at her, nodding ever so slightly as his mind raced with memories of the time before he left for Temple. Sure, he’d been conflicted a few times but Kara had always been there to remind him of the good in his heart and bring him back from the darkness that lurked inside his head. He remembered the soft look in her eyes, the same one she wore now several decades later. It brought him more peace than he could have ever imagined, plus Kara was even prettier than he remembered. Ben allowed himself to commit her slight dusting of freckles and emerald green eyes to memory as she surveyed his own softening features. He felt her muscles relax against his fingertips as they smoothed along the curves in her back. Maker, it took all he had not to pull her in like he did when he was a kid.

Kara felt her entire system freeze up as their eyes met. Her mind only saw him as the Supreme Leader of the First Order, the head of the Knights of Ren, and a ruthless killer…but her heart saw the soft spoken boy who lived in the house on the other side of the grove. 

“You still think I’m a monster.” He said, his voice low and soft. “I can feel it.” 

“That’s going to take a lot more than a few minutes of vulnerability to mend, Ben.” She smiled, “but it’s a start.” 

He repressed his initial feeling of rejection. He had prepared himself for that answer…even if he didn’t like it much. “I guess you’re right.” 

“And convincing me is likely the easy part… it’s going to be convincing the Resistance that you should really be worried about.” 

Ben scoffed, “Poe will want me killed I’m sure.” 

Kara didn’t say anything at first, her heart aching with the memories of how badly Kylo Ren had beaten Poe in their last two meetings. It wasn’t that long ago that she wanted him dead too… and while her immediate perception of Leia’s lost son had shifted, she wasn’t completely convinced he was free of his own demons. 

“He might, but you know how he is. Stubborn until proven otherwise. You were the closest thing he had to a brother… I’m sure he could find a little grace if given a good reason.” 

Kara stood up and set her saber on her makeshift nightstand. It had her blaster and datapad alongside a journal that Ben saw was bookmarked with a relatively recent picture of her and Dameron. He had a scar from where his troopers had gotten him in the face but otherwise appeared just as he had when he bore a hole in his rotator cuff. 

His eyes flicked back to Kara as she switched her training tunic for a warmer one lined with fleece. She had her own scars from battles he had only heard briefings about from his most incompetent commanders. She made them all look like the fools that they were, even if it did come at the cost of a non-lethal stab wound or scratch. 

She turned to face him before she popped the garment over her head, asking if he'd like any tea, and that's when he caught the sparkle of an heirloom he recognized all too well. 

Poe’s necklace. 

Ben stifled his anger again, he wasn’t going to mend any fences by being jealous of his former best friend. At least not right now. He had plenty of time to get even with him… after he convinced Kara that she was better suited as his counterweight in the Force. 

“I haven’t seen that ring since well…” His voice trailed off as he glanced to the fire. He could still hear Poe’s snarky comebacks in his ears. “...it lay against someone else’s chest in the brig of my ship.” 

Kara’s heart skipped a nervous beat. “You didn’t have to torture him.” 

“You don’t understand.” 

“Oh but I do, Ben.” She snapped. “Your uncle acted on a feeling and should not have targeted you the way he did but you should not have just surrendered to your rage. What if those younglings had included me and Poe? Would you have killed us too?” 

Kara caught herself for a second, seeing the pain ripple across the man’s face. “I’m sorry.” 

“Don’t be.” Ben said, doing his best to avoid the emotion in her stare. “You are entitled to your own feelings about it. I have hurt a lot of people…killed a lot more. You are allowed to be angry.” 

“You didn’t have to rip through his head like you did. I’ll let the physical abuse slide…cuz he’s trained for that. He can handle the gut punches and electric shocks but a Force probe is too damn far.” 

“Kara, you know he wasn’t just going to tell me what I wanted to know.” He ran a hand through his hair. 

“Doesn’t matter.” She quipped, sipping on her tea as she sat back down across the hut. “He was defenseless to that.” 

“Not as defenseless as you think. Most non-Force users don’t make it through the probe… Poe took two of them in less than 24 hours.” 

Kara’s blood boiled, “Why do you sound proud of yourself?” 

“I’m not proud of myself, I’m proud of him.” He snapped, starting to shift back to his more powerful and confident persona. “He’s finally as strong as he always thought he was.” 

Ben could see the tension returning to Kara’s frame as he spoke; her eyes occasionally darted to her saber that she left it a bit too far out of her reach. He could sense her fear returning to her in waves just as his own dark tendencies fought through his barriers. In a few minutes, his uncle would know he was here…

“Worried about something, Stargirl?” 

“You aren’t allowed to call me that anymore.” She growled, sensing the change in him almost immediately. 

“All because I tortured your friend?” Ben asked, “Or is it because one of my knights almost killed you too?” 

Kara reached through the Force for her saber catching it just as Ben rose with his own. She heard Luke’s thunderous voice carry in the distance as she glared at the young Solo, “I knew this was too good to be true.” 

“I have to kill Luke, Kara. I know you know that.” As Ben’s eyes flashed Sith yellow, Kara felt Luke’s power blast apart her hut revealing both of the young Jedi to him. Luke put up a wall around her as he strode almost effortlessly to his nephew, his green saber piecing through the air as he stood ready for him. 

“Kara, Run!” The master Jedi barked as he swung his blade down on the red saber headed right for him. “I’ll take care of this.” 

Her legs locked up in an instant, the Force holding her in place as the man who she wished was still Ben Solo smirked at her. “Not so fast, Skywalker. Someone will need to report your death to the rest of the galaxy and it might as well be her.” 

Kara closed her eyes and focused the Force holding her in place away from her as she tried her best to remember Luke’s earlier lesson about keeping her emotions at bay. There was no question that she was infuriated with Ben Solo but she had to keep her center…if not, she could unleash enough power to kill all of them in a single movement. 

As Luke and Kylo Ren parried, Kara concentrated on the tendrils of Force that seemed to wrap themselves around her limbs. She slowly and carefully unwound each one, taking her saber back into her hand and noticing Chewy readying the Falcon. He knew the drill… Luke would get the fight right to where he wanted it and retreat. 

The real question was.. To where? 

Kara went straight to the ship, working with Chewy to prepare for take off as the two family members squared off. Luke had sensed his nephew’s ship earlier in the evening and had warned his current padawan that he’d target her first. They needed him to believe he was getting ahead in order to keep him away from the Resistance evacuations and Poe’s dreadnought strike. So, that’s exactly what they did.

As long as Luke could get the better of his powerful nephew, they could go home… Well, at least for a little while. 

“You can’t win any wars with that kind of anger, Ben.” Luke snarked as he dodged yet another powerful attempt to maim him by his former padawan. “You know that.” 

“Don’t talk to me about anger.” The dark man hissed, shoving a rock toward the older man. Luke pressed it away. “It was your anger that created ME.” 

The engines on the Falcon roared as Kara jumped into the pilot’s seat, her eyes occasionally looking to the two figures locked in a saber duel just up the ridge. “She ready big guy?” 

Chewy confirmed with a roar, clicking on a few more switches as something in the afterburners creaked. Kara winced with the sound and glanced at the wookie. “We’ll have Poe look at it when we get back, we don’t have a lot of time.” 

The wookie pulled up on the yoke, spinning the ship around as Luke flipped onto the closing cargo ramp. “Punch it!” 

Kara slammed down on the thrusters as Ben’s rageful signature faded away. Luke slumped into the engineer’s seat behind them as they zipped through the Galaxy. She locked in the coordinates inscribed on the back side of her locator beacon. “He’s pissed.” She said candidly, knowing that the Jedi likely felt the same thing she did. 

Luke huffed. “Yea, well so is my sister so… this should be fun.” 

*****************************

After a successful round of morning drills, Kara climbed down from her ship in a relaxed huff and set her helmet on a toolbox nearby. She could have sworn that her S-Foils were sticking again…something she hated bringing up to her maintenance team, because she knew she complained about it a lot…even when she was often the last person to touch her fighter. 

Dani Flick, Black Squadron’s head mechanic took a quick peek at the foils as she noticed her pilot starting to fester on it. She twisted the end of her copper ponytail as Kara fought back the urge to pick up a wrench. “Commander, it’s really ok. This is a pretty standard problem on the T-70’s.” 

“Don’t worry about it, Dani, I’ll take a look at them later tonight. I’m sure it’s just me.” Kara said, playing with the end of her braid as she surveyed the wings again, running her fingertips over the scuffed up paint.

“I’ll still take a look at them, Commander. It’s no problem, seriously.” Dani nodded with confidence. “My notes will be in their usual spot.” 

“You are the best.” Kara smiled, seeing mechanic wink as Poe hopped down from his own fighter to greet Snap before glancing in her direction. “There will be a drink with our favorite bartender for you…cuz I know I’m a pain.” 

“Thank you Commander.” The redhead smirked, “but you are not nearly as bad as your favorite flyboy.”  

Poe and Snap no sooner joined her as she watched Dani and her team begin work on the T-70. They were already laughing about something when they stopped to look at her ship, seeing that Kara was fixated on the damaged aesthetics.   

“The paint’s a little scuffed..” Snap quipped, nudging Kara’s shoulder playfully as Poe snorted. 

“Yea well, if someone would listen to his droid about clearances that may not be an issue.” Kara smirked as Jess broke into a fit of laughter. “It’s a tight pass, Snap but it’s not THAT tight.” 

Snap blushed; “Oh come on, it was an honest mistake.” 

Poe smiled as they continued to playfully banter into the common area. He had watched Snap brush Kara’s X-Wing as they worked their way through a canyon just a few clicks north of the base. The close-quarters maneuvers almost never came without a few scratches and dents, but made them better prepared for the high-speed chases that the TIE fighters too often drew them into. 

“R2 didn’t seem too phased by it all.” Jess commented, taking a seat on one of the few soft couches scattered throughout the atrium. “Then again, he’s seen the Death Star so…” 

“Oh he knew you were gonna get too close well before it even happened.” Kara remarked, glancing at her squadmate as he sat next to Jess. She remembered R2’s informative chirp as Snap’s fighter approached with a bit too much speed. “Needless to say you learn quite a bit after you’ve flown with as many Skywalkers’ as he has. It’s just paint… no big deal.” 

Snap’s expression softened as he noticed Kara’s soft apologetic smile sneak into the conversation. “I’ll touch it up later, promise.” 

Kara waved to her friends as she noticed Poe continue on to their quarters without a word. She felt him get uneasy but figured it was just due to the fact they’d skipped breakfast before the drill. He had worked past his grief. Least that’s what she thought. 

“Poe?” He winced as he heard his name, a sharp pain rippling through his head as he stopped just short of their door. He didn’t remember having a headache when he landed. 

Maybe he was just dehydrated. “Yea?” 

“You ok?” If she didn’t see his pain, he knew she could feel it. Just like he could feel her growing concern. 

“It’s just a headache. I’m gonna lay down.” Least, he hoped it was just a headache. 

“Ok.” Kara said, her aura returning to normal. She trusted that what he said was the truth. “We’ll save you a spot at dinner.” 

“Sounds good.” Poe said, glancing at her briefly before he entered their room, hoping that he didn’t look too uncomfortable. She smiled, a bit of compassion floating through their bond. “See ya later.” 

The cool, dark room was a welcome escape from the heat of the Ajan Kloss atmosphere as he allowed his body to collapse on his bed. It was rare that he was plagued with a migraine, especially one this bad. He could hear his heart beating in his ears as he buried his head with a pillow. Something had to give… 

He could feel his anxiety ramping up. What if it wasn’t a migraine? What if someone was already in his head? What if Snoke had managed to get to him? 

Poe rolled to his back, letting the pillow fall to the floor as his eyes traced the stream of sunlight that beamed across the ceiling from in between the shutters on the window. His heart raced. 

“It’s just a headache.” He whispered, trying his best to walk himself back from an anxiety attack. “A pounding, but completely normal headache.” 

The deafening silence ate away at his resolve as he squeezed his eyes closed and tried his damndest to relax.. It disgusted him deep down – he was better than this. Poe Dameron could be alone with his thoughts. Hell, he could take some of the most intense psychological torture the galaxy had come up with. He was stubborn, steadfast, and proud of it. He was notoriously strong willed… and right now, he couldn’t even muster the strength to ward off the nightmares that had fought to become daydreams. 

“Breathe, Sparkplug.” The voice was soothing and familiar as he exhaled slowly out his nose. “You aren’t going to get anywhere if you don’t breathe.” 

He had been unintentionally holding his breath – and then it hit him. No one had called him Sparkplug since he was 8 years old. 

The pilot opened his eyes and saw the glowing woman’s soft features leaning over him. She hadn’t aged a day from when he saw her last. And he’d never forget seeing her jump back into her A-wing to throw a bunch of pirates off her trail. 

Kara and Leia had told him about Force Ghosts and he’d always thought it was a connection reserved for special souls like theirs. Kara hadeven told him about a few conversations she had with her mother. 

But, he wasn’t sensitive enough for that… at least that’s what he had been told. 

“Damn, you look just like your dad.” She laughed as Poe shifted up on his elbows, trying to get his bearings. “You aren’t hallucinating kiddo. It’s really me.” 

“How…” 

“There’s a few things at play here but let’s just say that your call got through this time, with a little help from Uncle Luke.” Shara Bey smiled as her son ran a hand through his tousled curls. “You can thank him later.” 

Her glowing form leaned back in his desk chair as he sat up, still struggling to find words. 

“You really look like your dad.” She mused once more as she took in his grown up from. “His hair, broad shoulders, perfectly average height.” 

“We’re both a little above average.” 

“He’s got you conditioned too…” Shara’s laugh scared off Poe’s remaining anxiety as she locked him in her gaze. She was confident and strong, spunky and resilient even in her phantasmal form. Her copper stare was a mirror image of his, right down to the flecks of green he had near his pupils. “But you really do have my eyes…probably more now than you did as a kid.” 

“Leia says that too.” Poe said, remembering the general’s sentiment before he’d climbed into his own cockpit this morning. “They have told me a ton about you.” 

“I’m sure they have.” She replied, a bit of grief creeping into her soft, content gaze. “They've helped me watch you grow up…from the rambunctious little boy you were to the brave and brazen commander you are today.” 

His cheeks flushed a bit of pink as Poe let a smile tug at his lips. “Pretty sure the word you’re looking for is reckless.” 

“Eh, Luke is just being a hard ass.” Shara quipped, sounding very much like Han as she caught a glimpse of Kara’s photos and paused as the memories flickered in her mind’s eye. The Embers’ daughter had shattered all expectations set out for her and followed her rebel heart into a life as a gifted strategist and daring pilot. It was a path that Shara knew frustrated her parents – well, her mother – to no end. 

Poe felt his mother’s heart swell when her fingers passed through a shot he’d taken of his best friend, deep in thought as they both worked on a star chart.  His necklace – the one that held her ring – sparkled in the faint blue glow of the holopad even in the print. 

“She’s grown up quite a bit too…” Shara whispered, noticing her son's smile as she studied a few more shots from back on Yavin. He loved her just as much as he loved the skies. She could feel it just like she could when they were children. “So, that’s why Luke is here…” 

“He’s training her.” Poe answered, “To face Leia’s son.” 

Shara paused, waiting to see if Poe would say anything else but he stopped. “You’ve all fought a half dozen times. It’s not just that, Sparkplug. It’s the fact that you’re bonded and have been since you were born.” 

Poe was puzzled. “How do you know that?” 

“I’m the one who called it out over 25 years ago, when you both were just days old.” She said, matter-of-factly for someone who wasn’t supposed to be force-sensitive. “Turns out I’m a little sensitive myself and I had no idea.” 

“Wait —“ 

“You were always sensitive, Poe. You get that from me… the strength you’ve built up now comes from right here.” Her finger passed right through his chest, right over his heart. 

“But—“ 

“Poe, we lied to you because we didn’t want you to become a target. It was the same reason Athena and Jamie lied to Kara. They would have come for you both as infants. Luke couldn’t stand the idea of losing any more children to the Old Jedi Order or even anyone who still stood for the Empire.”

She could see the gears turning as Poe worked through his emotions. 

“Ben’s power was harder to hide so Luke promised to train him and Kara but Athena resisted. Leia promised me and your dad that if you ever showed enough promise that she’d send you too… but after her own son defected…well, you know the rest.” 

Shara felt her son’s doubt, not that she blamed him. “You don’t believe me.” 

“It’s not that.” He replied, but she knew better. He was her son after all. 

“Poe, look at me.” Shara scolded, seeing shock ripple across his stubborn features. He hadn’t heard that tone since he was a child, and considering he’d spent the last twenty years practicing just how defiant he could be, his mother was surprised it registered at all. “The little boy I knew always believed in the Force…even when it wasn’t available to him.” 

Shara reached out, tracing her fingers carefully down his jaw to tip his face toward hers. Any signs of obstinance faded from his face as he watched her tear up at the feeling of his five o’clock shadow under her glowing fingertips; “There you are.” 

Poe crumbled into her arms in an instant, feeling them wrap around his shoulders in a hug that he had only ever dreamed of receiving…and she felt just like he remembered. She was warm, strong, and smelled of worn leather and caf. Her glow back then had been from the Yavin sun while in that moment, it was the essence of the energy that had reunited them. Poe didn’t care either way. He allowed himself to take in as much of her physical presence as he could - the heat of her breath, the tickle of her dark wavy hair against his skin, and the way she embraced him with everything she had. 

“I miss you so much.” He whispered as tears streamed down his face, silently praying that she would never let him go. 

“I’m with you all the time, Poe.” Shara soothed as her fingers got lost in the curls on the back of his head. “I’m in your cockpit, at your briefings, or even making sure you don’t have one beer too many at the cantina.” 

She chuckled a bit and pulled back, taking Poe’s face softly in her hands for a minute as she thumbed away a few more escaped tears. “And for the record, you drink like your father.” 

Poe laughed as Shara winked. 

“I watched you get promoted and demoted, run away and fall in love… Poe, I’ve been alongside you since the day you were born, that’s never changed and never will. No matter how hard they try…” 

“You’ve never met Kylo Ren.” 

“Maybe not, but his grandfather was just as terrifying and supposedly just as gifted.” Shara’s attention drifted momentarily to Kara’s saber, which lay just under a leather wrap on her desk behind Poe. “It may have been his sympathizers that physically took me away from you and our little family back on Yavin, but they could never take what lives right here.” 

She pressed two fingers right into his chest and Poe locked eyes with her once more. 

“Our spark.” 

There was something in her words that made the young man’s heart skip a beat. Our spark. He knew what she meant. It was the reason he had gotten into this fight in the first place. It was why he flew like he’d never fly again and fought like every battle may be his last. It was that shared feeling that everyone should be free to live in a safe and peaceful galaxy… just as his parents, grandparents, and friends all believed. 

It was the very reason that the Resistance, no matter how many lives they lost or bases they evacuated, would hang on. Even if the First Order temporarily gained the upper hand. 

“Now you sound like Leia.” 

“There are days where you do too there, Flyboy.” Shara smirked, seeing her son blush as he recognized that she had heard about his confrontation with Leia the other day. “Don’t let her fool you, she would have gone after that dreadnought too back in the day.” 

“I would have loved to see that.” 

“I’m sure you would…  You get a little bit of a similar experience with Kara.” 

Poe unconsciously smiled as her name hit his ears. “Han used to say that she reminded him of Leia when she was her age.” 

“Luke has some really good stories about her too.” She smiled, seeing the tension returning to his shoulders. “You’ve gotta open up to him, Sparkplug. He’s trying to help.” 

Poe scoffed, trying his best to not come off like a complete jerk. “He’s also the reason that Ben Solo goes by a totally different name.” 

He knew his mother could see just how much the jedi got under his skin. Luke was also the one who informed him and his father that she wasn’t coming back. In his mind, it was a matter of time before Skywalker delivered more bad news or seemingly took yet another person that he cared about away from him. 

“Poe. I understand you are scared, but he is the only one who can tell you how to best support Kara in this fight.” 

“We’ve been supporting each other just fine without him since we were barely old enough to walk.” Poe snapped, his eyes flashing anger. “How is this suddenly so different?” 

Shara suddenly saw more of herself in the frustrated pilot than she’d ever seen before. His fear of losing everything on full display. He’d figured out how to become a hero all on his own before and felt that he didn’t need anyone to show him exactly how to win a war he was born to fight in. 

She knew better than to answer his question. Sure, it was what he wanted…but it was a silent challenge. One he was already prepared to defend. Like mother, like son.. 

“Do you remember when you and Ben would gather up all the kids in the settlement to play a big game of capture the flag?” 

“Of course I do.” Poe looked confused, “We did a lot of stuff together.” 

“He was the closest thing you had to a brother…which is why you were so hurt when he told you he had a crush on Kara.” 

The memory hit Poe like a freight train. They were barely 12 years old at the time when Ben had admitted to him while camping out in one of the pastures on the ranch that he had feelings for their shared best friend. He recalled being shocked at first, before realizing that it had explained why he had suddenly become so awkward around her at school or during their usual weekend hangouts. 

Poe didn’t know that he’d already kissed her a few years before, and he certainly didn’t know that he had threatened her into keeping it a secret at the time either. He just thought maybe Ben and Kara were simply drifting apart as some people did. That was all turned on its head when he had just blurted out that he had feelings for her. 

“So, I think I might be in love with Kara.” Ben confessed completely out of the blue as he watched Poe tend to their little campfire. “At least I think it’s love. I don’t know.” 

Poe didn’t immediately reply, he simply just looked at his friend’s glowing features and listened to his words bounce around in his head for a little bit longer. In love? Kara? The two of them could barely be in the same room together for longer than a half hour recently. 

“I mean, she’s a great girl.” His own heart ached as his words left his mouth. “She’s funny and really smart. Han seems to think she’ll be just like Leia one day.” 

“Yeah, he told me that the other night.” Ben shifted in his spot in the grass, his long dark hair falling in his eyes. “She’s really pretty too.” 

Poe had never consciously thought about Kara that way until that moment. Even he found himself drawn in by the way her green eyes sparkled when they locked on you or the way her freckles seemed to disappear when she wrinkled her nose as she laughed. 

“Yea.” He said simply, keeping his eyes trained on the small flames in front of him. 

“I’m afraid to tell her.” Ben said, noticing Poe trying to distract himself a bit. He could sense his slight discomfort, but he figured it was simply because they were all friends. 

“I don’t know that I would tell her yet.” Poe suggested, tossing another small twig into the fire. “Maybe wait until you are about to leave.. Then if it’s bad, you don’t have to worry about it?” 

Ben hummed as he thought, it was a good idea. Plus, it avoided the embarrassment of all the other kids eventually finding out too. 

“Yea.. that’s a good idea.” 

Han had caught him in the hanger later, lost in his own thoughts. Poe loved her first but didn’t know it. That was because no one had ever brought it up and he didn’t want to make her uncomfortable. So, he kept his mouth shut. 

Shara could feel Poe calming down a bit as he remembered, “Ben never told her anything, Poe. Luke told him it would be better to wait until after he finished his training, just to decrease his distractions.” 

“Yea well, he kissed her when we were ten…and threatened Kara that if she told anyone that he’d ensure she’d be alone forever so.. Not sure who exactly did me more of a service at this point.” 

He laid the sarcasm on thick as he did his best to block out the memories of Ben taunting him in the interrogation pod. The phantom pain nestled itself in his temples. 

“Luke can help you get rid of the headaches, Poe.” Shara said, brushing a loose curl from her son’s forehead, feeling his pain start to rattle their connection in the Force. “At least let him do that much for you.” 

“He asked you to talk to me, didn’t he?” Poe said through an exasperated sigh. “See if you couldn’t soften me up a little bit so he can get a better idea of how much power I might have?” 

Shara simply smiled at her son, “Would it make you feel better if I told you yes?” 

“Maybe.” He wouldn’t look at her. 

“You really are a shit liar. He didn’t specifically ask me, but his presence has allowed me to take matters into my own hands a bit.” 

“For the record,” Poe quipped in another attempt to avoid the topic at hand, “I lie just fine.” 

“Cassian would be appalled that you’ve gotten this far with all your tells.” 

“All things considered, I think I give Han’s opinion a little more weight.” 

Shara faked a gasp and then smirked, “Too bad he also was a terrible liar.” 

She found herself relieved at the sound of Poe’s laughter as she reached out to cup his cheek once more. She was running out of time and could feel it. “Promise me you’ll give Luke a chance?” 

“I promise.” He conceded as the woman closed her eyes and pressed her forehead to his. Her intentions were good, and well, he knew she’d find ways to sneak up on him if he decided to be stubborn.

Both of them sat in silence, relishing in the last few minutes they had of the strong Force pocket before Poe found his way back into his routine. He had responsibilities to uphold and meetings to attend… no matter how badly he wanted to stay right where he was.  “Can we do this again?” 

“Absolutely.” She murmured, “I miss you terribly, Sparkplug.” 

Tears escaped his eyes again, his heart aching as he tried to avoid saying goodbye, “I love you, Mom.” 

Shara’s heart shattered into a million pieces. 

“Love you too, Poe… give Kara a big hug for me ok?” She said softly, thumbing away his tears as she looked deeply into his grief filled eyes. “Keep her close, sweetheart…she needs you too.” 

Shara Bey kissed her son’s forehead before disappearing into a faint blue mist. The bedroom suddenly felt more empty than it ever had. Poe stared at the space for a moment as he tried like hell to engrain the feeling of his mother’s embrace in his memory.

[gascon-en-exil]

8 and 17 for the fic asks :D

8. Share a snippet from one of your favorite dialogue scenes you’ve written and explain why you’re proud of it.

Technically two separate scenes, but they're thematically connected. From Chapter 8 of "What Burns Between Us":

“Y’know that weren’t no lady that was hangin’ all over ya, right?” Osvald glances at him over the rim of his spectacles. “That was fairly obvious. I didn’t think you would mind that, in light of your own interests.” Partitio wants to slam his fist on the table. O’ course I mind! But he takes a deep breath, and tries not to let his anger show. “I don’t get why they even do it. Puttin’ on a show on stage is one thing, but who they tryin’ to impress in here? Anyone can see what they are.” “From my understanding that’s typically not the point. They believe, likely with good reason, that they’re less liable to be harassed acting as they do if they look like women from a distance.” “Oh.” Now Partitio feels guilty for judging them as he first did. Is that what Georgette meant – feeling free? “Additionally, it seems a reasonable conjecture that more men will enjoy their company if they dress and act as such.” Oh. Now Partitio slouches forward onto the table, his chin on his folded arms. “Men like you, ya mean.” “Excuse me?” “Don’t play dumb, it don’t suit ya.” He sighs. “Normal men. Men with wives n’ families, or who want ‘em leastwise. Men who only mess ‘round with fellas when they’re all riled up and ain’t got no other option. And when you do it’s all just one big game o’ pretend.” And I ain’t normal. Not that he needs to even say that; if those ladies had him figured out so quickly then surely Osvald must have pieced that together ages ago. He envisions himself wearing a dress and with paint on his face, giggling like a brothel girl as he walks arm-in-arm with Osvald down a busy street. He’s not sure he likes it, or if he even could. “Have I done something to offend you?” “Just…just forget it. You wouldn’t understand.” Partitio knows he’s pouting, but doesn’t care. Osvald regards him quietly for a long moment. “I think I do, actually.”

Then later, after they go back to their hotel and are in the middle of their second sexual encounter - and the first one with anal sex:

“I want you to know something, Partitio,” Osvald says, his voice ragged. Partitio pulls back from his embrace to look the other man square in the face.  “All the time that I’ve known you, these many months…I’ve seen you for what you are. Exactly what you are, without pretense or fabrication…” Osvald slams up into him, and Partitio howls. “…And I like what I see.”

And then Partitio has an orgasm. I figured that that was exactly what he needed to hear in that moment, in combination with the physical stimulation of bottoming for the first time. Up until this point in the fic Partitio has been ashamed of his attraction to men, and resigned to the belief that most of the ones who hook up with him aren't actually attracted to him but are instead using him as a stand-in for women. This is why, for instance, he has such an ambivalent reaction to the characters he meets in the first scene (variously crossdressers, drag queens, and/or trans women - as explained in the endnotes, I've left specific interpretations up to the reader), especially since he'd just watched one of them publicly flirting with Osvald while he felt like he couldn't do anything about it because that would be an admission that he's into guys. As one commenter put it, this is the moment where Osvald gives him explicit verbal confirmation that he enjoys Partitio on his own terms, and not as a replacement for his late wife or for women in general. It also calls back to Partitio's anxiety from the first chapters of the fic about Osvald figuring out that he's gay. It turns out that he did have Partitio pegged from the beginning...but he's also obviously into it.

In addition, I really made an effort to keep both characters' voices faithful to their canon dialogue. Of course there's Partitio's distinctive US Southern/Texan accent and speech patterns, which I've glad to see I've gotten praise for as it can be a pain to manage, but there's Osvald to consider too. Osvald's dialogue is generally terse and economical, though his internal monologues get to be rambling which I had the opportunity to switch over to for later dialogue scenes. I'm proud of how I've been able to find what I feel is a good balance toward how different they sound, and even occasionally pull some humor out of it - which the game itself does on occasion, because these two have a bunch of mildly flirty banter in canon.

17. Do you write your story from start to finish, or do you write the scenes out of order?

Mostly in order, though I'll frequently go back and make small revisions if I think of a better way to phrase things or if I need to change something to have it line up with later writing.

A good example is in what is currently the latest chapter; it wasn't originally going to have a sex scene, or at least not the specific one that it does, but then I saw a great opportunity for a comedic bit two chapters down the line and just had to write in a scene with pec worship.

It makes sense in context if you're familiar with Octopath Traveler II and a particular fandom joke involving Osvald.

[talltoontales]

ToonMan #5: The Misadventures of Miss Adventure

Prompt: Not every member of the heroes Rouge's Gallery is a "bad guy."

Prompt By: ToonMan (Me)

Started Writing: 05/07/2024

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A young woman wearing an explorer’s outfit with curly red hair with a white streak tied in a ponytail hangs, tied upside-down in a giant sewer silo. Half of her face is trapped in a permanent shadow as her pearl-white eyes survey the multiple sewer tunnels.

“Helooooooo!” yells the woman. “Anybody home? Blood’s kinda rushing to my head over here!” Cackling echoes throughout the tunnels. The woman looks into the abyss below and watches as a horde of alligators begins to crawl up the silo walls. The woman turns toward the tunnel on her level, seeing a shadow on the far end.

“Ya lotta guts to be down here, missy,” a grizzly voice floods from the tunnel. “Yer either brave or foolhardy.”

“Why can’t I be a little of both?” asks the woman. The alligators laugh, as do the shadowy figure.

“What brings you down here, pray tell?” asks the grizzly figure as he slowly walks through the tunnel.

“I’m looking for a…one second,” the woman shifts around under the rope until she manages to slip a piece of paper through her binds. “I’m looking for a Captrain Scaleduggery, Mutant Pirate Lord of the Seven Sewers?”

“Woof, are ya sure ya got the right name there, lass?” asks the grizzly figure, “A dainty thing like yerself shouldn’t kahootin’ with the likes of him.”

“Oh, trust me, I’m far from dainty,” says the woman, “I’m Miss Adventure, the greatest adventurer the world has ever known.” The Alligators stop laughing as a deep growl shakes the silo. “I take it that you’ve heard of me?” A wave of water rushes into the silo as an oversized Gator man floats to the edge of the tunnel on an undersized raft. He wears an eye patch, a torn pirate coat about six sizes too small, and a metal lever for a peg leg.

“Eye, we’ve heard of ye,” says Scaleduggery, “If I had known we’d have such esteemed company, I would’a preheated me oven!” A red light emits from the bottom of the silo as the water begins to boil and rise. “Get the vegetables and broth, lads! We’re having Adventure Stew tonight!” The alligator crew cheers.

“Aw man, that sounds delicious,” says Miss Adventure, “Wish I could stay, but I’m on the clock, so—” The rope loosens, freeing Miss Adventure as she grabs onto it.

“Don’t let her escape! And someone get me flintlock!” orders Scaleduggery. The alligator crew leaps from the silo walls at Miss Adventure as she swings around on the rope, dodging and kicking away the cold-blooded combatants. One of the alligators is higher up on the rope, chewing on it.

“Oh boy,” says Miss Adventure. She frantically swings farther and faster until the rope snaps, flinging her toward a tunnel. She reaches out for the edge of the tunnel but barely misses. Only to be grabbed by another hand and pulled back up to find ToonMan waiting for her.

“Been a while,” says ToonMan. Miss Adventure gets to her feet and starts jabbing at ToonMan’s stomach, who doesn’t feel a thing.

“A while?! It’s been like years, ya paper-skinned pansy,” says Miss Adventure before hugging ToonMan.

“Pretty sure it’s just been a month,” says ToonMan, “but hey, I’m here now. What’s the job?”

“See Puffy the Alligator over there?” asks Miss Adventure as she points to Scaleduggery. “Need his leg and heads up, silos filling up with boiling sewer broth.”

“That’s it?” asks ToonMan.

-BOOM-

A cannonball flies right between the two heroes. The two look across the silo to see Scaleduggery holding a cannon under his pudgy arm.

“Ah! Ya land lubbers, lucky me aim ain’t what it used to be!” yells Scaleduggery. “Quick, load me up another one!” Miss Adventure glares at ToonMan.

“Still a world-class jinx, I see,” says Miss Adventure. Two alligators crawl into the heroes’ tunnel only to get punched out by ToonMan’s giant fist.

“Oh, don’t act like you hate the extra challenge,” says ToonMan as he leaps out of the tunnel, elongates his arm to the ceiling, grabs onto a metal grate, and swings towards Scaleduggery.

“Nu-uh, no, you don’t,” says Miss Adventure. She gets a running start and uses a rising alligator’s head as a launch pad to leap over ToonMan. He responds by catching Miss Adventure before she dives into the boiling water.

“Still a glory hound, I see,” says ToonMan.

“Glory’s all yours,” says Miss Adventure, “but the treasure, that’s all me, baby!” The two notice Scaleduggery load his cannon with one of his alligators. “You smellin’ what I’m cookin’?”

“Seeing as I can’t smell, probably not,” says ToonMan, “but I got an idea!” ToonMan winds back the arm, holding up Miss Adventure, flinging her straight up just as Scaeduggery fires his crewmate at him. ToonMan then let’s go of the grate, falling just under the flying alligator and grabbing onto its tail to pull him back across the silo.

As Miss Adventure falls back down, ToonMan stretches out his legs, kicking Miss Adventure across the silo at Scaleduggery.

“Aw muck,” says Scaleduggery. Miss Adventure kicks the oversized gator in his one good eye, knocking him over on his back. ToonMan lands in the other tunnel with the alligator crewmate, quickly knocking him out before checking on Miss Adventure. He finds her using Scaleduggery’s peg leg as a cane.

“Another ace in the hole!” says Miss Adventure.

//////////

With a twirl of the lever, Miss Adventure inserts it into a slot and pulls it down. The two heroes look up at the “Captain Scaleduggery’s Sewer Ship Surf” carnival ride as the lights turn on and small boat carts move into a tunnel. Miss Adventure watches the ride run with a small grin as ToonMan walks up next to her.

“Looks like you’ve saved the day again, Ms. A,” says ToonMan, bumping into Miss Adventure with his shoulder.

“Couldn’t have done it without you, Tooney,” says Miss Adventure, bumping back into ToonMan. “I mean, I could’ve, but I’ll never say no to a team-up.” The two walk across the dying grass, surrounded by old booths and run-down rides.

“Gotta say, the place keeps getting better every time I swing by,” says ToonMan.

“Hey, someone’s gotta keep this place up and running,” says Miss Adventure. She claps her hands, and the rest of the theme park comes to life. Music plays, rides run and poorly made animatronics run through the motions of their carnival games. ToonMan looks around in awe.

“Wowza! You’ve really been putting in the work!” says ToonMan.

“Well, it’s like you’ve said,” Miss Adventure grabs an oversized mallet from a booth, swinging it over her shoulder. “it’s been a while!” She then slams the mallet into the ground. A test your strength game with a graveyard esthetic erupts from the ground with a loud *DING*. “Up and Adam!” ToonMan narrows his eyes, looking slightly towards the ground.

“I, uh, almost forgot,” says ToonMan, reaching into his coat pocket. He pulls out a small, wrapped box and hands it to Miss Adventure. “Happy Birthday.” Miss Adventure's eyes widen as she snatches the present from ToonMan’s hand. She tears through the wrapping, flinging the box lid to the side, finding a diamond-encrusted bracelet.

“Awww, Tooney!” says Miss Adventure, “You know the only treasures I like are in trap-filled caves and monster-filled dungeons.” She looks longer at the bracelet, noticing three letter charms that spell out “ACE.” Miss Adventure wipes her thumb across the bracelet as the shadow covering the top half of her face fades. Her vibrant orange hair fades to a pale peach, her skin begins to wrinkle, turning pale, and her overall posture worsens. “What was it Camila always said?” Miss Adventure turns around, appearing to have gone from mid-twenties to late sixties. “Free is the one word you can’t say no to.”

ToonMan walks over and gently hugs the older Miss Adventure.

“Hey, Ellie,” says ToonMan.

“Oh, ToonMan, it’s been too long,” says Ellie, returning the hug. “How are you? Did A.I.D. give you any trouble on the way in?”

“Nah, nah. They barely even noticed me,” says ToonMan. "I just wanted to stop in and check on you.”

“Aww,” says Ellie, “Are you sure I didn’t raise you?”

“Positive,” says ToonMan as he reaches for the charm bracelet. “May I?” Ellie lets ToonMan take the bracelet and put it on her wrist.

“How are my children doing these days?” asks Ellie, “I take it that this was Camila's idea?”

“She always wants you to look your best,” says ToonMan. He offers up his arm to Ellie, who interlocks it with hers as the two stroll around the amusement park. “Evan got promoted to district manager last month and got a pretty big bonus, too.”

“Oh bless,” says Ellie, “That boy deserves it. Hard worker, just like his mother!” The two continue their stroll, passing by mini-gofer golf. “How’s…Adam?”

“He’s better,” says ToonMan, “full recovery and out of the hospital, with a little help from A.I.D, and back home with Eve.”

“Eve?” asks Ellie. “I thought her name was Zarina?”

“No, Zarina’s the fiancé,” says ToonMan, “Eve’s your granddaughter.”

“Oh, Oh yes! Little Evee,” says Ellie, tightening her grip. “Oh, how could I forget that crooked grin? She gets that from her grandpa, you know. Would have had to put a girder in his mouth to fix those teeth! Oh, he’d have loved to see her!”

“Would…you like to see her?” asks ToonMan. Ellie looks up at ToonMan before looking back down and pulling away from him. “Ellie, please—”

“I can’t. There’s still so much to do, so much to fix,” says Ellie, color flowing back into her hair.

“Ellie, I promise it’ll still be here,” says ToonMan. Ellie’s posture straightens out as she starts to walk faster.

“I know it will,” says Ellie, “because I’m here.” Ellie leaps to the top of one of the tents, followed by ToonMan. “As long as I’m here, all of this will be too, and one day, I can bring lil’ Evee here and she can see—”

“She wants to see you!” says ToonMan. A young Ellie turns around to see ToonMan holding out a photo. Ellie takes it to see her three kids, their partners, and Eve at the center. “She’s tired of looking at pictures, and I know you are too.” ToonMan walks closer, putting Ellie’s hands in his. “Let me cure you. Let Miss Adventure go.” Ellie tightens her grip. Black ooze begins to flow from her hands and into ToonMan’s. Until it suddenly retracts back into Ellie, and she takes a few quick steps back.

“I’m sorry,” says Ellie, wiping her face. Miss Adventure looks at ToonMan, teary-eyed with a wide smile. “But someone needs to stop that dragon.” A bellowing roar echoes across the amusement park as a roller coaster transforms into a fire-breathing dragon. The beast rips a portal into a fantasy realm while also taking a large chunk of the track with it. ToonMan watches as Miss Adventure transforms into a knight. “What do ya say, Tooney? Up for another adventure?” ToonMan forces a smile and chuckles.

“Nah, I think You got this one covered,” says ToonMan.

“Suit yourself,” says Miss Adventure. She whistles, and one of the carousel horses transforms into a real Pegasus. Miss Adventurer hops off the tent and onto the mythical creature. “Don’t be a stranger and remember—” Miss Adventure soars off toward the portal. “—adventure waits for no one!” The portal closes the second Miss Adventure crosses into it.  ToonMan sighs as he slingshots out of the park, landing right outside the front gate.

Welcome to Misadventure’s

[RETIRED]

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Traveling Amusement Park

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Woo! Two in a roo0O0oow!

Thanks for reading, and I hope you enjoyed the story!

If you have any comments, critiques, or criticisms, please don't be afraid to let me hear 'em (as long as they're constructive (or comical)). Also, if you have some spare time, check out my blog for more stories like this one.

Stay safe, drink plenty of water, and be kind to yourself and others.

ToonMan, AWAY!