“you’re really invested in your tv show/book/etc and i don’t think you understand how much your absentminded petting is getting to me but like hell am i gonna ask you to stop“ !!
Poe has a thing about his hair. Touch it and he purrs. Pet it, he melts. Pull it… well. Yeah. That’s… yeah. His hypersensitivity has never been an issue before. People who get close enough to get their hands all up in his curls are generally doing so with pretty specific intentions, and even if they’re not, they learn fast how the tide’s rolling.
But then people aren’t Finn.
Finn who learns scary fast, but is still playing catch up when it comes to a lot of social cues, particularly those centred around touch. Poe has a feeling Finn might have been a tactile person anyway—takes one to know one—but growing up in an insulated body glove obviously hasn’t done him any favours.
These days Finn touches everything - fingers tracing the gouges in the mess hall tables as he eats, palms pressing against the bark of the megaflora that surrounds the new base like he can feel the sap pumping if he concentrates hard enough. Poe finds it both endearing as hell and teeth-grittingly motivating during those missions he gets the First Order square in his crosshairs.
Finn’s not as physical with people yet — or at least not ones he doesn’t know well. Poe’s obviously not in that category though, which brings him back to his current predicament.
Finn’s leaning back against the head of the bunk, a data pad propped on his knees as he reads something distracting enough that he hasn’t noticed what’s going on with Poe yet. Poe’s not really sure if that’s a blessing or a curse, to be honest. Because on the one hand, Poe probably looks a special kind of stupid right now, processor parts forgotten on the floor in front of him as he all but drools into his own lap. On the other, if Finn keeps this up too much longer, Poe’s libido is going to start knocking insistently on the situation and that’s… not ideal.
Because Finn’s his friend. Finn’s his friend who’s still learning what it means to have friends and Poe doesn’t want to fuck that up for him. Which means Finn’s deft fingers twisting through his hair and scratching lightly against his scalp is fast becoming A Problem.
Finn hums lightly behind him—a noise Poe’s come to associate with him reading something particularly interesting—and Poe has to bite his lip against humming for his own more inappropriate reasons as Finn’s fingers card through the closer cropped curls at the nape of his neck.
Poe clears his throat. Then has to try again when he almost whimpers instead. “Ah, buddy?”
Finn’s petting doesn’t even pause. Poe’s done nothing to deserve this sort of temptation.
“I’m ah… getting a little distracted down here.”
Finn’s touch halts but he doesn’t pull his hand back and Poe finds himself swallowing hard against the instinct to push back into Finn’s palm.
Finally Finn says, “In a good way or a bad way?”
And that’s… huh. Poe cranes his neck back to look up at Finn’s face and finds a soft smile waiting for him, Finn’s eyes amused and… knowing.
“Fuck,” Poe says. “Who told?”
Finn huffs a laugh, thumbing lightly behind Poe’s ear. “Jess.”
Of course it was Pava. Poe would be annoyed but the way Finn’s looking at him as he smooths his fingers back through his hair, he has a feeling he’s gonna end up buying her a cake.
Poe lets his eyes flutter shut as he feels Finn’s movements turn deliberate, fisting a grip at the back of his head and… yeah. Shit. Poe’s breath catches which is probably the only thing that saves him from flat out moaning.
“You should come up here,” Finn says, voice drawn tight and Poe would be relieved he’s not the only one affected here but he’s too busy giving himself over to Finn’s very nice, very competent hands.
“I should definitely come up there,” Poe says. He’s about to get right on that when Finn’s grip shifts and twists and Poe’s hips go rogue, bucking instinctively up and fuck, he’s hard, when did he get hard?
“Oh wow,” Finn says. “Jess wasn’t kidding.”
“I’m gonna kill her,” Poe says, strangled.
Finn laughs like he’s just so delighted and Poe would bask in the warmth of it but Finn’s also taken it upon himself to manhandle Poe up onto the standard-issue mattress, a move that makes an entirely different sort of heat suffuse Poe’s limbs.
Force, did Pava just write out an itemised list or something?
Poe finds himself flat on his back, Finn braced over him, grinning like Poe’s a new dessert he has yet to try. It puts Finn’s very nice shoulders in optimal clutching range and Poe isn’t going to shirk that opportunity, no sir.
“Hi,” Finn says softly and Poe realises he’s grinning so wide his cheeks hurt. Fuck he hasn’t felt this stupid for someone since…ever.
Finn dips down, mouth dizzyingly close and Poe very nearly whimpers when he stops just short of his lips, because fuck.
“I ah… you should probably know I have no idea what I’m doing,” Finn says, and ah, that answers that question then.
Poe slides his hands up to scritch through the hair where it’s growing out at the nape of Finn’s neck, easing the nervous tension the best way he knows how.
“Well,” Poe says, struggling to gather his thoughts in the face of Finn humming into his touch like a spoiled loth-cat, shit. “We can slow our roll a bit. Pull back and talk a few things through…”
“Or?” Finn says, dipping toward Poe’s mouth again like a faulty grav drive. The move brushes their noses together, something that probably shouldn’t make Poe’s toes curl but here they are.
“Or,” Poe swallows harshly against the instinct to just tip his chin up, turn things wet and hot and fast, but no - this is Finn’s show. This needs to be Finn’s show. “We can wing it. Do what feels right, speak up when something doesn’t…”
Finn’s eyes snap back up to his at that and Poe very nearly chokes on the want behind the look. “You’ll show me how?”
Fuck. “Yeah,” Poe says, and he’s gonna need some sort of award for how steady his voice is here because seriously. “Yeah, I’ll show you how.”
The smile that slips across Finn’s features is like a sunrise, slow and syrup sharp. Poe wants to taste it. “We’re gonna do this.”
It’s not a question, but Poe answers it by meeting Finn’s mouth on a groan anyhow.
“Jem told me what Ragnor Fell said about my father,” Will went on. “That for my father there was only ever one woman he loved, and it was her for him, or nothing. You are that for me. I love you, and I will only ever love you until I die—
” “Will!” He bit his lip. His hair was thick with snow, his lashes starred with flakes. “Was that too grand a statement? Did I frighten you? You know how I am with words—
” “Oh, I do.” “I recall what you said to me once,” Will went on. “That words have the power to change us. Your words have changed me, Tess; they have made me a better man than I would have been otherwise. Life is a book, and there are a thousand pages I have not yet read. I would read them together with you, as many as I can, before I die—
” She put her hand against his chest, just over his heart, and felt its beat against her palm, a unique time signature that was all its own. “I only wish you would not speak of dying,” she said. “But even for that, yes, I know how you are with your words, and, Will
I love all of them. Every word you say. The silly ones, the mad ones, the beautiful ones, and the ones that are only for me. I love them, and I love you.”
“We went to Orlando and the Universal Studios. We
discovered the Star Ship Enterprise there, we had never heard of it
before. We didn’t speak English very well, but we dressed up in all
these Enterprise costumes and we liked that, since we looked really
stupid! We sat before a bluescreen and were completely overwhelmed; five
East Germans in the US, we were completely helpless. We were supposed
to read English dialogue and get filmed while doing it. Aljoscha decided
that we should speak German, so that we could at least understand
something. We stuttered the lines and said everything at the wrong
places. Then suddenly came the Klingons, who didn’t even notice that we
were there, and then we got beamed away. We later received our video
cassette, which was playing in the foyer and all the Americans were
having a good laugh. Once back home, we used to show this video as an
intro to our Middle Age show.“
- Flake, about this old Feeling B videotape, recorded during their first tour. (rammstein.us)
And at last it was like a young lady, dressed in the finest white gauze, made of a million little flakes like stars. She was so beautiful and delicate, but she was of ice, of dazzling, sparkling ice; yet she lived. Her eyes gazed fixedly, like two stars, but there was neither quiet nor repose in them.
The devil, in a form of an evil troll, crafted for his students a magic mirror that distorted the appearance of everything that it reflected. The magic mirror failed to reflect the good and beautiful aspects of people and things, and magnified their bad and ugly aspects.
One day, the devil’s troll-pupils attempted to carry the mirror into heaven in order to make fools of the angels and of God, but the higher they lifted it, the more the mirror shook with laughter. It slipped from their grasp and fell back to earth, shattering into billions of pieces, some no larger than a grain of sand. These splinters were blown by the wind all over the Earth and got into people’s hearts and eyes, freezing their hearts like blocks of ice and making their eyes like the troll-mirror itself, seeing only the bad and ugly in people and things.
Many years later, on a pleasant summer day, splinters of the troll-mirror flew into Ben Solo’s heart and eyes. He became cruel and aggressive, and no longer cared for his family because they appeared bad and ugly to him. He murdered his father and turned away from those who loved him, fashioning a new name for himself: Kylo Ren. The only things that remained beautiful and perfect to him were the tiny snowflakes that he saw through a magnifying glass.
One day, while hunting alone in the mountains, he encountered a white sleigh carriage driven by a woman dressed in white. Though she was cursed by dark magic that turned everything around her to winter, her heart remained pure, so that even to Kylo’s corrupted eyes she appeared beautiful. The woman revealed herself to Kylo as the Snow Queen and kissed him twice: once to numb him from the cold, and a second time to make him forget about his family. He craved a third kiss, but the queen refused, for she knew it would kill him.
“The flake of snow grew larger and larger; and at last it was like a young lady, dressed in the finest white gauze, made of a million little flakes like stars. She was so beautiful and delicate, but she was of ice, of dazzling, sparkling ice; yet she lived; her eyes gazed fixedly, like two stars; but there was neither quiet nor repose in them.”
For the Anonymous request for “I would really like a fic about a night of pure romance and sex with Gabriel.”
Word Count: about 900
Warnings: just some smut
“Come on Gabe,” you giggled, “Can’t I just see where we’re going?”
“Well that would hardly be a surprise then, Y/N. Goodness, has anyone ever told you that you complain a lot?” he joked back to you. His tug on your hand to guide you had stopped and you bumped into his chest. Your chin automatically raised so that if you had been able to see, you’d be gazing into his eyes. His lips brushed against yours gently.
“Ready?” he asked softly.
You nodded in response, anticipation building. You had been blindfolded since you were in yours and Gabriel’s apartment in New York but you knew he had transported you to at least a few different places before you had walked a few minutes the rest of the way to wherever you were.
The soft fabric slid off your face as your angel’s hands carefully unknotted and pulled it away.
You took in the scene in front of you – there was a wall of glass right in front of you, floor to ceiling, outside of which you could see the spread of a mountain range and a crystal-clear sky with more stars than you had ever seen before twinkling at you. Tears welled up in your eyes and you folded into Gabriel’s embrace. “Thank you.” you whispered into him.