Anon Ask - "how Do I Write Introductions?"

anon ask - "how do i write introductions?"

my inbox is being pissy so i am having a hard time responding but anon i hope you find this bc i rlly wanted to answer xox i'm sorry :(

yall can still send in requests but I might just have to tag you rather than do a direct response. maybe it'll fix itself soon? idk

introductory paragraphs are probably one of the most important paragraphs of your story. and really, I'd extend your introduction to the first 'chapter' or 'act' or however you've decided to divvy up the writing.

What does the introduction do?

It introduces the story. 'Holy fuck!' I know, crazy. bad jokes aside, the introduction does a lot more than introduce characters and setting. It also introduces the voice and style of your writing, which can make or break your writing just as much as a character.

This is more geared towards original 'published' work, but can absolutely be a tip for fic writers too. Most of my writing tips I've tried to make accessible to both, so take it with a grain of salt.

"Voice" "Style" and "Narration" are all used to describe the way the story feels. When you write the first couple of pages, it needs to grab the reader and shove them into your little world. There are good and bad examples of this.

I would say a good example of this would be Harry Potter (sorry i know but it's v accessible). The voice is introduced, we get a sense of the backstory without it being too overwhelming, and it gives enough mystery to keep you reading. (look up a pdf)

Here are some Dos and Don'ts

Do: describe setting. Don't: give us a verbal blueprint. Describe the setting subtly. Instead of, "The coastal town of Whalebone was frequently rainy, and it never got above a brisk 65F" try, 'the sky was grey and dreary. it had been raining the past week, and the air had a bite to it.'

both sentences describe the weather, but the second one does it in a way that is more relevant to the story rather than sounding like a weather report. The reader will pick up on the setting nuances as they read.

Drop descriptions in occasionally, try to create an ambience rather than an overwhelming situation. describe setting in context to the event. The reader doesn't care if it's sunny when they're more concerned about the fight scene. They might care about the weather if there's a traveling caravan that can't go through mud. (I'm using weather as an example but this can be applied for every setting)

the hobbit would be an example of overwrought setting.

2. Do: introduce your character. Don't: overdo it.

The audience will be spending the entire book with this character. there is no rush to explain everything in the first chapter. Don't do the "She woke up at 8 am and rushed downstairs to eat breakfast. Her mother, Deborah, had made her favorite pancakes. The girl wolfed down a couple before running to her friend Emily's house." that's too much. I quickened the pace to provide examples but all of that can be found out subtly.

The readers should determine the relationships based on their interactions. Don't tell the reader. Show them. If 'Emily' (bff) and Girl are chatting together and making jokes, you can assume they're good friends. Flat-out telling the reader takes away an opportunity for building dynamic.

3. Do: set the tone. Don't: change it later.

pick the style and stick with it. If you flip between waxing poetic and writing like a sarcastic teenager, it'll give your readers whiplash. pick a style of storytelling that can accurately convey your writing to its full extent. If you write a scene and it's out of the theme, we'll notice. the introduction is a good place to mess around with this.

Hope this helps!

(sorry about the inbox thing, i'm gonna do some digging to fix it!)

keep sending requests ily guys xox

did you imagine your own tragic death a lot as a child or are you normal

Patient

part one of my fifteen minute fic series - where I set a timer for fifteen minutes and write a blurb based off a prompt and a genre.

Today's pick: Nathan Bateman x Reader, fluff, denial of feelings

three...two...one...go!

Go away, he'd spit as you showed up at his door with a cup of tea and his breakfast.

I don't want to, he'd grunt when you suggested he take a day off.

Leave me alone, was scrawled in black text over his locked office door.

Nathan, Nathan, Nathan, you'd smile patiently in response, what a stubborn mule you are. He'd get riled up even farther, egging you to raise your voice. He'd prod and poke your weak points to start a shouting match, only to be shot down with a pat on the shoulder.

He wanted you to get mad. He wanted you to sneer at him, to watch you march off, bags in hand, never returning. He wanted you to leave.

More than anything, he wanted his chest to stop squeezing.

It's okay, you whispered when he angrily destroyed a laptop after a coding mishap.

You'll be alright, you soothed, rubbing ointment into his bruised knuckles.

Don't worry, you assured, hastily fixing the hole in his schedule that was driving him to panic.

Every punch he threw, every barb he spat, every cruelty he flung at you would dissolve in your gentle glances, your unwavering appreciation. He didn't know how anyone could put up with him like this. Give in, he'd glare when you deflected his spite again. But alas, you shone bright and refused to let him in.

Okay, he'd cede when you brought him lunch.

In a minute, he'd mutter when you reminded him of his sleep.

Door's open, he'd throw over his shoulder, hoping to see your face flit by.

Like Newton's Cradle, you fed off each other's energy, slowly taming to a comfortable neutrality. No more fights, no more shouting. Nathan resisted a knee-jerk insult and you gained confidence in your reminders. I care, you'd explain when he questioned your motives for the umpteenth time. It's not in my nature to watch someone suffer.

Come in, you offered when he showed up in a fit of terror.

I'm sorry, you said genuinely, listening to his scattering thoughts and crippling fear.

I won't leave, you laughed after he shyly brought up your absence.

How could you leave, when he'd finally opened his walls? His garden was growing, slowly, yes, but soon the flowers would bloom and he'd be okay. You would never miss out on such beauty. It was slow, careful, tedious, the way he warmed up. A brush on the back of your hand, then a strong grasp on your wrist. He'd let you whisper your lips across his cheek if he thought nobody was looking.

Come here, he'd plead when you shifted across the mattress.

More, please, he'd mumble when your hands rubbed his soft skin.

Don't go, he'd yearn when you mentioned a job in New York.

He was fragile still, a new leaf unfurling. You knew to be gentle, to hug him gently and murmur soft things in his ear. You never yelled, afraid his eyes would mist and he'd shun you with an angry huff.

your chest warmed when his hands would clutch you, finally brave enough to reach for what he wanted. His face was slack with sleep, lips twitching in a serene smile. It had been a good day; his work was finished and you'd made his favorite dish for dinner. He'd told you so after your lips were too kiss-numb to respond.

Love you, his heart thrummed when you settled back beside him.

I know, yours thumped, beating together in the cradle of your bed.

??? the style kinda came out of nowhere but we ballin

let me know if you wanna be on my taglist!

T Minus 9

T minus ten part 2

(the way i stopped writing for ten minutes just to watch this gif over and over) (no i don't need help)

chapter warnings: language, medical inaccuracies, panic attacks, some angst, miscommunication, sassypants Miguel, we're getting somewhere guys i swear pls bear with me-

read part one here

You stared owlishly at the outstretched claw, the razor sharp edge gleaming in the hospital lighting.

Miguel's gaze was simmering. It would take nothing for him to sever your hand from your wrist, leaving a knob of bone and his glittering sneer. You felt heat building underneath your clothes. You didn't want to be rude and back away, but god if he got any closer-

You took a shaky breath. "Um..I...I need your actual arm, Mr. O'Hara, could you-"

A terrified lurch capsized your stomach as he effortlessly slashed the cage to pieces. This time you couldn't hold back a yelp. Standing now, you appraised him from a few feet away. The wall was the only thing keeping you from sprinting towards the other side of the planet.

Tension thrummed between you. You knew he was mad, and couldn't blame him. Not sure if he was mad at you or if you just happened to be the only person available, you debated whether or not small talk was appropriate. But given the way he responded earlier...

Be seen and not heard.

Slowly, you stepped towards his bed. Acutely aware of the carmine glare smoldering through your cheek, you tried to move efficiently. As you were carefully arranging yourself around the numerous cords, a small movement caught your eye. Confused, you looked up.

A gleam of white, and sharp fangs snapped an inch from your ear.

Shrieking, you stumbled back and threw the syringe across the room.

Oh my fucking god I'm going to die holy fucking shit what the fuck-

"What the fuck?" Your shriek shattered the tense silence.3

You could barely focus on the man in front of you over the hammering of your heart beat. A fuzziness started tickling your head. Don't pass out don't pass out. Collapsing, you shuffled to put your head between your knees.

Breathe. In, out. In, out.

That was closer than you ever wanted to be to a pair of fangs. Peeking from between your fingers, you saw the mountainous Spiderman hunched, shoulders twitching.

Was he laughing? If this motherfu-

The alarmed beeping of his heart monitor shocked you to your feet. Not laughing. Seizing.

Desperately clearing the terrified fog from your mind, you fumbled for the help button and tried to assess Miguel. He was groaning and hissing as warm crimson was covering his torso.

In his haste to bite your cheek off, he'd torn the tourniquet holding the rebar in place. Though the spear hadn't been removed, it was secured in place to prevent further damage. The pain meds must have been so strong that he didn't notice it. Until now.

An animalistic growl tore through the med bay. His claws tore through the mattress, his pained yowling making your ears ring.

Oh shit-

You scrambled towards the door, snatching up the syringe on your way. The alarms were already flashing, and you could hear the quick footsteps of your staff.

"He woke up, I don't know what to do-"

The crowd pushed around you, frantic shouts echoing in the long hallway. Techs, guards and nurses flooded Miguel's room. You could hear his roaring and caught a glimpse of vicious fangs in the bright lights.

In another rush of activity, a sedative was delivered and everybody tensed. Slowly, slowly, his breathing calmed and his eyes rolled back. Maria sobbed with relief. His claws had frozen an inch from her soft cheek. She stumbled back, safely out of reach.

You stood, shell-shocked, as the nurses ushered out of the tiny room. Dr. Ben stared stoically at you, nodding sharply in the direction of his office.

"Now."

Your eyes didn't move from the floor, feeling like a shamed puppy. Dr. Ben had finished his speech and was glaring daggers at your hidden face.

"Do you have anything to say?"

An embarrassed twinge choked your throat. No, you didn't. What was there to say? You'd entered a dangerous patient's room without clearance and hadn't had proper protection. Whatever happened had technically been your own fault.

"Did..." you swallowed down the ache, "did his injury worsen after?"

Dr. Ben let out a long sigh through his nose. Marching over to the main screen, he pulled up Miguel's file.

"Mild tearing across lower left pectoral as a result of aggravated activity," he read stonily.

Shit.

"I'm sorry, I didn't...he lunged at me and I got scared."

Dr Ben removed his glasses, rubbing his tired eyes. An awkward silence ticked between you as he tried to explain the situation.

"We've...." he sighed heavily, grimacing. "We've found some things out. And I was meaning to tell you before the whole thing," he gestured towards the med students fixing the broken chair, "but clearly that didn't happen.

"The poison has been determined as non lethal, but if he's exposed to it for too long, it'll deteriorate his muscular tissue. He's clear so far, and the damage has been minimal, but any longer than...a month, and some issues might arise."

A month? That was so much time. "What do you mean a month? This kind of thing will be resolved-"

Ben cut you off and pulled up a chart.

"See his bloodwork? The kind of spider DNA he's been spliced with responds negatively to basically everything we can prescribe," he explained. you frowned, leaning closer.

"The labs have created a treatment, but it's diluted and he can't handle more than a small dose at a time."

You sat back, releasing a tentative sigh of relief. Treatment was treatment, and if it meant you wouldn't be in biting range for much longer, you were all for it.

"The downside is, it sets his treatment trajectory at around two months."

"Two months?" You shouted, rocketing to your feet. Dr Ben frowned at your outburst. Stay professional, good god. Words escaped you. This monster would be haunting your med bay for two fucking months?

HQ would be missing their leader for two months.

A heavy, oily dread trickled in your chest. Miguel was the blood and soul of the Spider Society. He literally had the entire world on his shoulders. Nobody even knew half the things he had to do to keep it running. If he wasn't at full working capacity for that long, who knew what would happen?

The chair wheezed as you collapsed backwards. This was insane.

"How..." you sighed again. "How...the fuck are we gonna keep this together? We can't just tell everyone that our leader is basically dead to the world-"

"No." Ben cut you off again, an uncharacteristic fury in his eyes. "This will not be addressed to the Society. There is no reason to work everybody up for something that will be over in ten weeks. Miguel can still work, he will just need a medical aide and frequent breaks." He held up a finger at your indignant scowl.

"I'm not finished. I propose that you administer the medicine twice a day and monitor his progress. The only, and I mean singular reason for anybody other than the two of us to know about this would be his death."

All the air in your lungs rushed out in a Fuck. That was...a really big deal. Did you want that job? Hell no, Miguel had literally almost turned you into a chew toy thirty minutes ago. But if you didn't, who would? And then...you shuddered to think.

"Okay...so...how does it work?" Focus on the work, not on him. He's just a patient.

Two doses of 120 mg every twelve hours. One in the morning and one delivered via IV in the middle of the night. A simple routine that only needed charting the immediate our before and after administering. You'd had harder times taking care of the flu. This wasn't hard.

Why am I so stressed?

Maybe it was the shade of red that glowed beneath dark lashes. Maybe it was the vicious snap of his fangs a breath from your cheek. Maybe it was the utter hatred that his gaze ensnared you with.

Focus. Breathe. Only ten weeks. that's seventy days.

Your eyes shot open. Seventy-

Breathe.

"You start tonight at 1800 sharp."

Fuck.

The slam of the office door cracked your remaining resolve. A sob wracked your chest, and you cried into your jacket.

Maria found you later, sat on the floor of your shared apartment. Miguel's file was strewn about, papers haphazardly stacked and shoved into color-coded folders. A tablet and a laptop were open, live updates of his monitors relaying data across the screen. You were passed out, a half-eaten bowl of soup gone cold in your lap.

"Psst," she hissed, gently shaking your shoulder. You scowled gently in your sleep, wrinkling your nose. She tried again, more urgently.

"Ffuck you wan'?" you mumbled, batting her hand away to rub sleep from your eyes. The dim room blearily came into focus. Maria peered down at you, brow creased.

"It's 1730," she hissed again, "Ben wants you down for a briefing!"

1730? Who gives a fuck what time-

"Miguel." You tripped over your bowl of soup, nearly covering the carpet in minestrone. Maria rolled her eyes and threw a keycard at you. You hurriedly thanked her and bolted.

Of all the times to sneak in a nap.

You were glad for the study break, though. Hours of tediously inspecting X-rays and blood samples were beginning to fry your already exhausted mind. At least the situation was starting to make sense.

Dr Ben was understandably irritated when you showed up exactly thirty seconds before 1800. Not late yet, your defiant gaze smirked. Gritting back an insult, he pointed you to the syringe and IV setup on the counter.

"you'll do a wrist drip and administer the meds after he eats. It needs to be taken after he eats at least one meal and drinks a half liter of fluids. No alcohol, caffeine or pain meds. Capiche?"

you nodded, brushing him away to begin setup. It wasn't a difficult system, he was being oddly frenetic.

Maybe because Miguel would slit his throat if he got it wrong.

This was your patient. Get it together.

hot breath gleaming bone s n a p sharp-

Stop.

Shakily trying to calm your racing heart, you brought the prepared meds out to the white room. Ben watched, lips pursed, giving you an impatient nod to continue. Breathe. Breathe.

The restraints had been removed; instead, Miguel had been knocked unconscious with a sedative intended for hippos. He was out cold.

He can't touch you he can't hurt you just be quick-

Breathe.

"I can do this," you whispered, snapping on a pair of nitrile gloves. Miguel's breath was wheezing, you realized, a soft rasp that indicated his injury was worse than you thought.

It must have grazed his ribs and his lungs.

Focus.

ten weeks

Focus.

we'll die if he does

"Focus!"

You blanched, realizing you'd screamed out loud. Praying to anybody up there, you peeked at Miguel. Still asleep.

A sigh of relief.

You were halfway through inserting his IV before you heard it.

A groan.

His eyes were still closed, but his heart monitor had noticeably spiked and the blankets were rustling around his other arm. you still had to give him the meds and his fluids and take his vitals and holy fuck he's waking up

You froze. The eye contact was blistering, despite his bleariness. He studied you. Flashes of something you couldn't identify flickered across his face as you stood like a deer in headlights. The needle hovered centimeters from the back of his hand.

His claws were absent, though he was gripping the sheets for dear life.

You took a deep breath and tried to neutralize your face.

"I'm...I'm gonna prick you just a li-little, okay? Try not to-"

He hissed and yanked his hand away from your gentler ones, all drowsiness gone. Pure hatred had return to his gaze. You tried not to wilt. Why is he so difficult?

"Miguel," you tried again, patiently, "please-"

"No." His voice was wrecked, twisting his harsh response into something that curdled your blood.

you were beginning to tremble. Afraid of dropping the syringe, you set it down and swallowed. don't bite don't bite don't bite please oh shit

"I don't wanna..." your voice broke. Tears clogged your throat and you felt the urge to vomit. Panic had dug its claws into your head and wasn't letting go. Calm down calm down breathe

If you freak out, he's gonna freak out. Stay in control. Stay in control.

The whole time you were grappling with your sanity, Miguel was watching shrewdly. As soon as you released the syringe, his fists unclenched. you gulped in air, trying to stay as discreet as possible.

A patient had never rattled you this much. It shocked you. Your patience was unrivalled, and the ability to stay calm in these situations was commendable.

Why now were you crumbling?

When Miguel's gaze shifted away, an ounce of pressure lifted from your chest. Be quick be quick be quick-

You swiftly took up the syringe and made a grab for his hand.

too slow-

He snapped his teeth again and tore away, ripping out the IV. A broken gasp made you drop the needle.

Both of you retreated, you to the far corner and him to the confines of the little cot.

"Wh-wh-why..." you were muttering fearfully, rubbing your arms for comfort. Tears were falling steadily now, streaking your cheeks. Snot made you choke. you were burning with shame and fear like a sniveling child chased by a big dog.

A low ringing made you wince. Breathe. You were getting lightheaded. Breathe. Five things you can see.

A few deep breaths later, and the world stopped tilting. Your heart settled enough for you to stand shakily, still pressed into the corner.

You assessed the scene in front of you. The syringe was destroyed, and the dose was unsalvageable. A spare was tucked into your pocket, thankfully. Miguel was heaving, spittle flecking his cheeks. Like a rabid dog.

A rabid, terrified dog.

What was he afraid of? He was three times your size, and you weren't small. Though you spent ample time at the gym, he could snap you like a twig. Even in his state he had the advantage.

The needle.

He was afraid of needles.

Well.

The medicine couldn't be given orally, so he'd need it put in an IV. ...The IV he just ripped out of his arm. Placing a new one was out of the question, due to the obvious needle involved. You breathed in through your nose.

New plan.

Your gaze caught on the slow trickle of blood from his arm where the tubing had been removed. Start small. Taking gauze from your pocket and a small tube of ointment, you held them out in front of you.

"I'm going to patch that, okay? Just some ointment, it doesn't even sting." Your voice was light, careful. Like handling the younger patients. You can do this.

Miguel made no move to stop you as you tiptoed closer. You didn't take your eyes off of him, gesturing for him to give you his arm.

He didn't budge.

It's okay. Start small.

Gently, you ran your fingers up his tan forearm, stopping at his elbow, then going back. the wound was small but deep. Miguel was gritting his teeth and glaring daggers at you. You didn't react, patient as ever. The angle was awkward; his twisted torso angled his arm so you had to reach across the bed.

Your chest was very exposed to his claws, but you had more important issues.

"Lay back," you whispered, "you'll exacerbate the wound again." He scowled harder, hissing in Spanish.

"Miguel. Please. Just...straighten out."

After a long moment the pain began to register on his face. He shifted marginally, and you let out a relieved breath. Progress.

You bandaged his wound efficiently, keeping your movements light and gentle. His grip slowly released on the sheets. You ignored the holes his talons had carved along the mattress.

"I don't like needles either," you said quietly, tucking the soiled gauze into a disposable bag. He didn't answer, but you saw the look of surprise on his face.

"I used to take shots because I got sick all the time," you explained, moving to grab your tools, "I never got used to them."

He didn't answer. That was okay, he wasn't scowling anymore. You took this as a green light, placing the pressure cuff around his enormous bicep.

Your heart was steady, tears dried on your face. Okay. We're okay.

"You have tattoos."

His question made you jump, nearly crushing your pencil. His lips lifted amusedly to reveal a shiny canine.

s n a p hot breath scream-

You stepped back, swallowing bile. He must have noticed your fear, because he dropped the smirk and scowled again, looking at his lap. Stupid stupid calm down, you've pissed him off.

"I got over it," you rushed to say, wanting to relieve his grumpiness. "I...I don't know, I guess I liked the design more than the needle."

He just nodded sharply, still looking away. No dice.

Back to square one.

You finished his vitals, but the elephant in the room reared its ugly head. He needed his meds. Clearly the pain was getting to him. Miguel's forehead was dotted with sweat, and his abs were quaking from the cramps. A sickly pallor dulled his warm complexion. You had to be fast.

"I...I'm sorry. I know that doesn't...help, but you need to just let me-"

"No," he spat again, teeth gleaming. "I'll get on without it."

You couldn't believe his aloof tone. He was so selfish, for someone with your survival in the palm of his hand.

"No, Miguel," you said sternly, "you can't."

His gaze was incredulously infuriated.

"Your muscles are dissolving as we speak. In a month you won't be able to stand up." Your voice was raising. He needed to understand. He needed to know how bad this was.

"Then I'll work sitting down."

"Don't be stupid! you are the reason any of us are here, and because you're too afraid of a stupid fucking needle you're willing to sacrifice-"

"Don't you dare talk about sacrifice before you've-"

His scathing response was capped with a yell. Impulsively, you'd stabbed the syringe into his pliable chest, right above his heart.

The silence was deafening.

Run.

You dashed out of the room, severing his bellow with the click of a lock.

One dose down, 140 to go.

that was a hot mess but maybe it's okay? I'm trying to get past all the technical stuff but my inner med student isn't letting me I'm so sorry!!! I will tone it down in the future please believe me-

thots?

taglist: @neeshsoodrippedout

comment if you want to be added xox

next part

thought: steven grant

we're all pretty aware Steven's autistic and has the energy of ten rabid goats, but I've noticed how he always needs to be occupied w something. his rubix cube, the zipper on his coat, he stims with his hands

hear me out hear me out

oral fixation??? probably??? not sexually but like I bet he loves chewing gum, lollipops, hard candy, probably sucks or chews his knuckles.

w you it only gets worse teehee

you know kisses that don't actually leave your skin? he just glides his mouth around ur face, nibbling a little bit. He'd probably space out somewhere around your cheeks, just so overwhelmed with how cute your pink blush is. he's suckle and nip until your face was like a tomato, forgetting for a moment that the softness on his tongue was a person, and a person who was squirming with shyness.

he'd lay off immediately, shushing apologies, but soon he'd wander back, this time nuzzling somewhere around your neck. it's not your fault, you're just so soft....

Snack

Poe dameron x reader, fluffy blurb, not edited

haha get it cause he's a snack lmao i'll see myself out thanks

You swatted a pair of wandering hands as you cranked on the engine, crescent wrench crammed between your teeth. Hoping a death glare would make up for your temporary muteness, you scowled at Poe. He pouted, prodding again at your sides.

"'M bithy," you mumbled around a mouthful of metal, "go 'way."

The poor X wing hacked up another billow of black smog, and you wedged yourself back into your tiny workspace. Defeated, Poe grumbled away, stomping across the grassland to his ship.

The two of you had been stranded for about an hour as you hastily attempted to fix the faulty engine in your X-wing. One of the mechs had skipped out on a full run-through before takeoff, and you were pissed. This wasn't a difficult assignment; just drills across the Castor Sea, but you'd done one barrel roll too many and your X-wing started to spiral.

Once the adrenaline was over, you were miserably clanking around under the hood, trying to assess the damage while suffering in the heat.

And defending advances from your adorable but incessant copilot.

Poe was a cutie, but he didn't realize that though the ship was gonna be fine, you weren't in a cuddly mood. He'd been touching and nuzzling the entire time you were working.

After the fifth strike you'd had enough.

"Poe, this wasn't an opportunity for a makeout session. My ship is having an asthma attack, and I need to finish this up so we can leave. We can hang out later, promise." You kissed his cheek as an attempt to placate him, before returning to your grimy task.

He tried to stick his hand back in your vest, and you lightly shoved him off.

"Dameron-"

"But I'm hungry," he protested, tugging at your sleeve. You threw the screwdriver on the ground and faced him. He was in puppy-dog mode now, cow eyes sparkling to their full capacity.

"What? The hell does that have to do with me? If you let me finish, we can go get you dinner, yeah?"

"No," he pouted. "I saw you shove a chocolate ration in your vest this morning."

You blinked. What...oh. "Seriously?"

Poe was playing with your tac vest straps. "Well, I dunno, it's hot and I'm tired 'n I wanted a snack, so-"

You groaned, rubbing your face in your hands. You tried to mask the grin twitching onto your face at his antics. Poe was always snacky, you were surprised he hadn't smuggled a few pieces into his ship for the ride.

Sighing, you made a show of undoing your gloves, tucking them into your belt, wiping the grease from your hands, taking as long as possible while Poe practically hopped with anticipation.

Suddenly, you collided with Poe's chest and your flight vest was gone. He was so hasty that it unzipped your flight suit in the process.

You yelped at the sudden exposure, looking at him with a mix of shock and betrayal. He paid your obvious embarrassment no mind, rifling through the pockets in search of the small square of foil.

"Give me my shirt back, I am literally half naked."

He raised his gaze to you, smirking. "Why would I want to do that?" He dramatically dragged his eyes over you, and your cheeks pinked.

"Just- grab your snack and gimme my vest, I'm almost done-"

Poe hummed thoughtfully, tossed the vest on the ground and made a move for you, nibbling and pecking along your jaw. His stubble was scratchy against your soft shoulders. You bit down a giggle at his feathery kisses, wriggling in his grasp.

"Oh, so it was a ruse then, you conniving little bastard-"

He laughed into your neck, warm breath ticklish under your ear. You took the distraction and stumbled backwards a few steps. Poe frowned, grabbing at your waist and pulling you back for another kiss.

"No, but the chocolate melted and you'll be an adequate replacement," he mumbled, lips roving over your grin.

"Adequate?"

He covered your lips warmly, hands curling around your hips. "Give me a minute, I haven't finished tasting. I'll have a better idea soon."

"Just kiss me, you idiot."

i thought it was cute idk lmk your thoughts xox love you!