[ he'd done well to mind his own business for a while on the ship, but then — well, apparently some stranded planet bullshit decided it'd find a way to make him leave his quarters for a while.
son of a bitch.
he explores on his own for a while, but when it becomes evident he's not learning much about this place on his own, he reluctantly reaches out to the one person he's bothered interacting with thus far: ]
[ she almost doesn’t recognize the name popping up on her display, wracking her memory at first — and then she remembers, finally pairs it to a busted-up face.
why he thinks she’d have any firm answer on the subject is beyond her. does that stop her from replying? of course not. ]
fuck if I know
but I guess we need repairs before we’re airborne again
[ they haven't spoken since ... that. but once communication with the ship returns, allowing them to get back on, he figures it might be worth checking that she made it back and didn't end up stranded in some cave or anything. ]
[ the irony being she might actually be in the room right next to his when she gets this message, but she'd been taking advantage of a damn working shower for a change. ]
[ The message comes pretty late into a "night" on the ship, but not the early morning just yet. Still, given everything that's happening, Cash will only send the one message — if she's one of the people who's managing to sleep, he doesn't want to mess that up for her. ]
[It’s been well over a week now since she texted him by mistake, and Din is pretty certain that by now she’s figured out that he’s not who she thought he was. He’s not exactly sure why he’s texting her, but he can’t sleep for some reason, and he thought of her. Of how it had been so easy to text back and forth with her, even if it had been for the selfish goal of sexual release. Maybe it had to do with the fact that they don’t know each other and that there’s clearly no jugement between them, and he could definitely use some easy, no pressure conversation tonight. He’s not even looking for something steamy, he just want something to distract his mind, for a while.]
Are you asleep Sweet Girl?
[If she’s mad at him for not coming forth with their case of mistaken identity, he wouldn’t hold it against her, but he still chances a text, in case she’s not that angry with him.]
[ yeah, it definitely hadn't taken her long to figure out that the person she was texting was a) not the person who had her panties, because she'd actually found that red lacy pair in her own room a few hours later and b) someone she'd never even met before, much less spoken to on this ship.
going back over their conversation hadn't produced any new information, and she'd never gotten a name or even as much as a photo — but she'd sent him hers, and... let's just say now she's feeling a little stupid. well, part-stupid and the other part is more complicated than that, because she's pretty sure he hadn't been messing with her either. that everything they'd said to each other hadn't been a prank of some kind.
but she's not asleep when he texts her, even if she stares at the message in her field of vision for a few minutes trying to figure out how to answer it. ]
did you just "u up" me?
[ she's more amused than anything, come to find out. ]
[She's not wrong in her assessment of him: everything Din has written to her that night hadn't been meant as a prank, especially when their texting had turned into something more than just teasing about a pair of not-so lost red panties. In all honesty, he's never done anything like that before, from describing everything he'd like to do to her, to letting her on for that long. While people tend to assume he's not trustworthy because he's a bounty hunter, Din makes a point of being honest with his words, simply choosing not to speak when he can't be truthful.
The longer he waits for her reply, the more he feels guilty for his misleading, but then he gets her text back, and he relaxes slightly under the helmet:]
Yeah, I guess I just did.
Wasn't I supposed to?
[A subtle way to ask for her permission to keep on texting her; an 'out' if she's not interested, an opportunity for her to tell him to fuck himself if she wants to. It's the least he can offer, after all.]
( something strange is definitely happening on this ship, but harry's never been one to complain about getting laid. so when it happens again, that feeling exploding inside his chest like a molotov cocktail, he practically welcomes it — only this time it's different, disorienting, because this time he finds himself not where he was before.
and considerably more wet than he was before, given he's wound up directly in someone's shower fully clothed and — )
Oh, fuck me.
( right, well. he's never had a cunt before, has he. or tits, for that matter. he might be more shocked at this apparent sex change if he had enough bandwidth to process anything beyond the desire pulsing hard between his legs, his pants damp from more than just the water, or the too-tight fit of his already formfitting shirt, now soaked through, his nipples pushing hard against wet fabric. (besides, he's always wondered what it would be like, he just never thought he'd have the opportunity to find out.) )
Don't mind me, love. ( he still sounds mostly like himself, at least, if not a little softer. ) Why don't I lend you a hand, eh?
( because he knows, one way or another, that's exactly what's going to happen. )
[ Well, at least it wasn't her ending up in a stranger's shower this time — although if Wynonna's being honest, it's almost just as weird to suddenly find her own occupied not only by her own body but someone else's too. The timing either couldn't be better or couldn't be worse, depending on who you talk to, because she may or may not be taking advantage of said shower to try and rub one out quickly, one hand braced against the shower wall as the other shoves fingers into her cunt for slick thrusts that she's only weakly satisfied by — and for whatever reason, she can't quite get there yet, even if she's literally shaking with the latest effects of being surprise-whammied by whatever's going around this ship.
So yeah, maybe when she ends up with unexpected company, it's the worst interruption or could turn out to be exactly what she needs. ]
Well, if you're offering.
[ She mostly intends it as a quippy joke in response to the other woman's declaration, especially since there's nothing comfortable about suddenly ending up in a shower with all your clothes on — and she'd know. Right now, she's trying to pretend she wasn't just doing what she was doing, subtly slipping her hand out from between her thighs and straightening up to turn and face the surprise guest. ]
C'mon, you don't really mean that. [ Beat. ] Wait, do you?
( he's not blind, and he's seen enough women rub one out in his time to know that's exactly what she was doing, even if she now seems a little embarrassed about it. who is he to judge someone getting off in their own shower when most of his own showers involve wanking one to indecent and infuriating thoughts of nathan drake? so, yes, he's offering, and not just because of coiling heat in his chest; if he'd somehow wound up here by any other means under different circumstances, he'd still be offering.
he steps forward when she turns to face him, his mouth upturned, his eyes casting a languid, appraising look over her. he reaches forward, pulling the hand still slick with her own fluid to his lips, his tongue lapping out to clean the taste of her from her fingers. )
Believe me now, darling? ( and then he guides her hand from his mouth to the swell of one of his tits, pressing against it hard in punctuation. a soft noise rises from the back of his throat and he leans in closer, his mouth desperately close to hers now. ) You get me out of these clothes, I'll make it worth your while.
text;
son of a bitch.
he explores on his own for a while, but when it becomes evident he's not learning much about this place on his own, he reluctantly reaches out to the one person he's bothered interacting with thus far: ]
where the hell are we
text;
why he thinks she’d have any firm answer on the subject is beyond her. does that stop her from replying? of course not. ]
fuck if I know
but I guess we need repairs before we’re airborne again
know anything about fixing spaceships?
text;
[ so basically, all this conversation is concluding is that neither of them really know shit. ]
any idea how long that usually takes?
text;
[ really they’re just 0 for 0 here, good job you two. ]
much as I hate to admit it
we might have to do the camping thing for a while
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didn't get left behind, right?
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was that you checking?
or hoping?
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be a real pain
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you'd love this ass haunting you
[ which isn't actually what he said, but whatever, she's going to roll with it anyway. ]
still
nice to have real beds again, huh?
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text | un: maltesefalcon
[ The message comes pretty late into a "night" on the ship, but not the early morning just yet. Still, given everything that's happening, Cash will only send the one message — if she's one of the people who's managing to sleep, he doesn't want to mess that up for her. ]
text;
so question
what would you have done if i wasn't
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this bunk is lucky to have me
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more misfires uh oh | un: dameron
text;
is it my birthday or something
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It could be?
If you like what you see.
I didn't mean to put that out on the network but I guess we're sharing today, huh?
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i'm pretty sure it only came to me
not a bad thing to wake up to honestly
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text > video
video;
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misfire! | un: harkness
text;
i am not prepared to deal with an explosion tonight
not when my head already feels like someone's tap dancing on it
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Hangover?
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text; @mandalorian
Are you asleep Sweet Girl?
[If she’s mad at him for not coming forth with their case of mistaken identity, he wouldn’t hold it against her, but he still chances a text, in case she’s not that angry with him.]
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going back over their conversation hadn't produced any new information, and she'd never gotten a name or even as much as a photo — but she'd sent him hers, and... let's just say now she's feeling a little stupid. well, part-stupid and the other part is more complicated than that, because she's pretty sure he hadn't been messing with her either. that everything they'd said to each other hadn't been a prank of some kind.
but she's not asleep when he texts her, even if she stares at the message in her field of vision for a few minutes trying to figure out how to answer it. ]
did you just "u up" me?
[ she's more amused than anything, come to find out. ]
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The longer he waits for her reply, the more he feels guilty for his misleading, but then he gets her text back, and he relaxes slightly under the helmet:]
Yeah, I guess I just did.
Wasn't I supposed to?
[A subtle way to ask for her permission to keep on texting her; an 'out' if she's not interested, an opportunity for her to tell him to fuck himself if she wants to. It's the least he can offer, after all.]
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𝘼𝘾𝙏𝙄𝙊𝙉 » aphro mini event 🥵💦
and considerably more wet than he was before, given he's wound up directly in someone's shower fully clothed and — )
Oh, fuck me.
( right, well. he's never had a cunt before, has he. or tits, for that matter. he might be more shocked at this apparent sex change if he had enough bandwidth to process anything beyond the desire pulsing hard between his legs, his pants damp from more than just the water, or the too-tight fit of his already formfitting shirt, now soaked through, his nipples pushing hard against wet fabric. (besides, he's always wondered what it would be like, he just never thought he'd have the opportunity to find out.) )
Don't mind me, love. ( he still sounds mostly like himself, at least, if not a little softer. ) Why don't I lend you a hand, eh?
( because he knows, one way or another, that's exactly what's going to happen. )
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So yeah, maybe when she ends up with unexpected company, it's the worst interruption or could turn out to be exactly what she needs. ]
Well, if you're offering.
[ She mostly intends it as a quippy joke in response to the other woman's declaration, especially since there's nothing comfortable about suddenly ending up in a shower with all your clothes on — and she'd know. Right now, she's trying to pretend she wasn't just doing what she was doing, subtly slipping her hand out from between her thighs and straightening up to turn and face the surprise guest. ]
C'mon, you don't really mean that. [ Beat. ] Wait, do you?
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he steps forward when she turns to face him, his mouth upturned, his eyes casting a languid, appraising look over her. he reaches forward, pulling the hand still slick with her own fluid to his lips, his tongue lapping out to clean the taste of her from her fingers. )
Believe me now, darling? ( and then he guides her hand from his mouth to the swell of one of his tits, pressing against it hard in punctuation. a soft noise rises from the back of his throat and he leans in closer, his mouth desperately close to hers now. ) You get me out of these clothes, I'll make it worth your while.
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