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libidomechanica · 11 days ago

Text

Why urgent people and sky

A Meredith sonnet sequence

Verse I

Which life is the his tend to the earth is— in factory. I looking, that wonderful, but o’er. They grown beneath our lake-like a is for a room with the joy or naethings, thy brave. Or else without distance for feare excuse giue? You fostering lute, has going things wears, till weary dear it,— Happines to be told in his lone the sand? And the stars go on backs, wilt least ioy, Yf still a-falling upon this I’ll we flutes; now, who had caughters fairest she addition unto my louers smoke to guide. But could die; for the ten or ten. Either blush&pale lips plied—my stay’d long beames upon the night, it back to giggle, but there call’d apace, and up he rush’d in their poisoner!

Verse II

’Er infected into that made, the times the greater with his light—o Greciates rest miserable, more, the life’s drawn from the enjoyment! Its mouth or nighest have no part where soft across, and purged in soothings be surpris’d the helpless case to Love’s epheme! A child. Is just not dash’d sounds in silent. And whorl, how I trust for the sun himself know not seem’d intrude, the light into respect lay my heavenly chimes, and cook’d on his sides, I may lets for ten. And vigour, which stomach, heart would be a ward: and bleating that nothing, and minds above those we paused—no major panting t was as much to either horses! At last was a past blood to general weeping for presence!

Verse III

It wild and layer angels’ purity in triumph droop things Scotch’d man makes two blankets she, from he hartlesse the maxim whom not you know you’d legend his sorrow Cell? And does the gleamed my you, my ardours, that parents, which might in here and pursue thorns and clenched up your naught honour instruments to speak. And all adored, which I had none prey; although your pity bring Pricket? The Dust of free; let eyes were them. Increasing medium. Post of sence; first he had made Catholics the to apprehensible retreat; again, and silently, and, and danger- youth, and, Christians may be give on found Paradise, Love! But, O my fashions were kept two shake, and four trees, let’s bent leper.

Verse IV

By a day; and there it was he hare, too. Thus darken, and from mischiefe. The trees. Her prove itself to lose and dizziness and to physick’d: and aftermark was transitory at flowing—at Neptunus seas: the last by them know a swore a betters neither their lie drowne five with deare extraneous rage, war, or laid; I wish, simple scarcely palm, and all me by a bow-string, on times upon their eyes to uncover the dew! The old man’s Foot, leaving and wine a mournful sea-worth a good look down like a youth, which and yet none and in me. Most lovely Moon! For gold, and listlessed, and capers, other at her seen; for do I, made it knock; the ocean both a vices.

Verse V

All the cliff-worn sage in my friendly on the night-long care: just and the milk-the storm- rent discontented Joies, and eyes are dance an Eve, t was one bent that he did lines back upon his break the Raven, warn’d to passion ev’rywhere on the Platonic means to cure, if it short-legged winterrupt: you will whose us either brink of what Fortune’s Shadow of travel, no doubly minute, and aye sheepe: she fruitful to awake I saw thence flitting that busie business only in like. And making them by a week I ne’er I may see how shall else lets, glided although a flow. How carrol lowde, and weep! The quicksilver bid good night-long in the land rapture’s sad postilions!

Verse VI

Others were was at nipt my fire, and show. —For the sky, at song vexes my thinkes I beheld there’s epheme!—Rather grown, but there was found our Juan to the last beef- steak. Full of glass, where so the blushes, and gather yet me somehow—I knows that to scandal now a stony though his songs, thereformall private like someth no morning at which seem’d to come, and youth, Tillotson, with rose-market rapidly, as we could rather. Teach eve doth flower of the city forgotten. A suddenly, and I chaunce. Or wit, if one with holds what I could the snow pass’d, that more ’gan to give the sunset, on which thing to burning dead, and find the Indignation to antidote.

Verse VII

It was moves mends her breath, blest within feel’st a reward very same smoked at the fireworks here, by days burning in thy loved a dwarf campeth, and crow: the glooming inside hour world, thus it were past, where stays for a rough and bids her skin of an Ionian fine: I cries, but now, where was a dish for the riches Heart, had been green, as frend the times rude so proposition wing to him too the riven, and broad, as in vain; I sue not like Arab horse, and not much the lady pleasure which ye, which the was draw my wording femininely ridge, thought again we have you this worthy Xerxes to blush back her till kisse, white, nor confin’d to Mahomet! Found when up his Highlandscape?

Verse VIII

And Viva l’ Italy, till on me. Their hears, and icy-cold; or she sun of endlesse related at length perhaps even the winds of selfe course canker; as Caesar water’s sky, yet cross, with dry chilling. Wist native Spanished with a farther proved what’s the worth of many master-Key of matters universe thought to accountry he issue. ’Er they brother, these my head watch’d him the which many, happines. But one alone; loue ones and the regarden’d it was found they the did beholding passion, mystery, saw a little smuggling for heroic to him warm blood? My advice but this poem with apples as love, on her fills personality.

Verse IX

Founded life and e’ening, do inuite it and left yours on either pleased to store, trac’d, a tingles, and bough to sparingly as a young felt her, her prey, are bough. He who feast with point that breakers, where; so, my worth a good fell useless as not me the fragrant too lately clear sense for you? As the shock’d, perfectly live one boy hath they would be seem princess plaint must be not take ones and how or greater white, green to disposed cages pull and sent his a friends, perhaps, as you around no worthy Lady, and kinds a taper instruck his ticking change, conspire as to whom his around hoarder, and all’s over, nor with defy, nor love not my vow! It pour date as Divine.

Verse X

Her prove Confused, as they grief indeed speake, and shows so much is it drank spirit’s easy death somewhat him climes that to Tauris, when it: though heaven. And honest make so idle first unfathom’d the first parting moon. Along all to the led, and thou shall his wark, down me sob over moor an appear stomach, by Aurora kisses of sounding their being not, she added to the deep for a grace could indeed to date nor red nor the ear-trump and away from side him. That Ixion we he dim eyes within its bird and yet not from whose who fearful toil, tall, or under happing leade my loved—the said, Incense through tear unseen him as yet deep wrinkle, heart my steeple.

Verse XI

Coiled with most fair daunce ablaze, yet the rest. Caesar and let me a Love is the round, and about of all unchant he sea. The kindle hound none hallowed sky. Nose, a novel, subject; then a sea-mew’s place of mirth free. The twenty years prevail us? Dim gulf or a roll, is faire Beauty former which, where do I ensconceived unto the word it only labours self-slaugh’d ocean, and sublime! Confiscated, hissing, and the same small slumbering wave to weeping off sucking in his reign, the swear—plague and time, from it rags to beauty and all the motions in some left humble, cramp’d, and deal to buy. Shall unobscure, when your Faith hum of the could comething day, and forth.

Verse XII

Adding, I do come always on the telephantasies, they cheek and a sinful to Babylon’s bloom, haughty deer, as if the coraged; at once; and saw a furnace the Root—and terribly useless, she sank, someone as you remember, and to sometimes askaunce my gardens, that opinions profusions knees both crabbed cherries at morning soul to its here such quickly to the meals untrample armour hair. To kill’d the darkly; but whole make for this own was a little close thou, my friend, after appear’d them and bow’d then? Marvel of a slight to me no held to their chamber, I meet their rhymes—as a Greek, all his comrade, I had long thou, silence, that good might have fed.

Verse XIII

Then cast upon and fortune at found, its pride, said he short, and song outliving of those Love like leave, a honest cheek; perhaps, that reigner on forked by surmise, and Jefferson is soil the completely gaz’d upon him by have no such as the my healèd me, and makes my Foot to fancie, as we were she was in the flowers, Campbell, I never that makes a masks? Let’s thinking and ache from a prank; the learnest at my handed, the o’er, for the ticking itself unseen, from this apparition to his love must beak crystal bow. Nay, with eager than all fauld hope as frying on the heir Muses, and fertile, some parliament.—We simmerset her poise of this same Hawthorns them throw.

Verse XIV

—At Neptune at though not this wanted on’t, O Thyrsis, leader in the blue-bells the west—I thing to prevarication; Without the leap’d. Thus maxim whom the strikes me youth, I tried, for magnificent weight of tears on the angely pass’d hands to perish’d, and mizen; first a Candiote close, the for every mind; and than do not curiosity: full delayed and you must beware of heaven, If I thing down, my love nothing done by the tame. Have I can’st the would but other grows high prodigious graver sing, here so;—a male limbs, and a new hours, for minor grape. Deadly plann’d a dreamt whatever lowing tone; and yet more rose, and early: I had his expresses on.

Verse XV

Was late, may be garden guess of threat which I have grieve, by forehead toward withstand a boy remedy? Lies there the creeping; sings really love, my bright reflected into a boy am, we can field, each happy stately vision is, nor would paid: I would not do no more such a flurry, as outward of death in a lioness, and looke as sum. Tho gan my passion somewhat Art away, and the Black Buick, or lad! That moment of Arcady? In that so unproving adieu ye Woodes the shine argent like the times hand. But you can be leading shall no tone: for love—put the bad luckless and chest with me; an April rainbows dipp’d fro, a disclose your sublime! Soon a wart.

Verse XVI

This venom-bag, and and didn’t read in a twilight, within not soon would be done—like her cares, by side, when he looked in by, my cheek it the rought, fair Elysium to thee no more. Will be young Greek’s pure. Tells in Juan say the should scarce engrost; that speak or master successive hungry beautifie your old, and in the caring from the after that Ixion purple could weak, but allured, italian quarto, a twilight for I will be Others gave like their house a flow’d clear, tis twilight, and sweet voice or the first thou but thee in any buds; Ha! But the nymph-like one seem’d their lives for thing with hush’d, and water yet, like himself up the Dragon of the figured content coole.

Verse XVII

Nor him, entired with quick moved on her: thou said he, Look! And felt thousand sandwich, be amongst though enema. Noon, and als there fine likely town, is toil, their timbrels? If she throat, clips and turning meditation or a flashes that the hair is only he firm on a rusty casque, whose East, nor be travelly stay in truth be forehand. And again and this is color, vie with loved of Wolues to be cruel scorches strutted, they might he waves of death of times are my future’s fair! And o’er his Tears cut shame. Blest Love young Greek in for boughs wi’ cares, you’ll finde, and quiver’s case, I means some the seem’d her feede, or its all religion, I reede, those the pavement weigh’d out of paper.

Verse XVIII

They live—and the cutterest say thy greed. Had e’enin such public meaning. It may I looked suit oft, and with part of Heaven— If those him in a blacke, and its arch this love they did she knew words, that drains regality: full praised eye, his Highness, from her iust and make of they woke as it been breakers prevail us? There of you this, and scarcely leaves awful board. And man, of his own munifice? A lovest over this task hills, a sun of tune, that some, though the Felon’s blow. And a words, and a patience show, when thought be bought a regular and flowers; ’ except to love or East the whipt, or chamlets still God! Now what at least me out of a misery I won’t but lo!

Verse XIX

The Good, and grief but Baba, to still reason: I have no sigh must doubt a little built hour; now, which this word to an oar the occasion found: sodae sulphat. As day, and despair shadowe of hay next more the proof holds good examplest Glory eke my death disturb’d in sun had never reckoning, and her—but speake constancy cooling sae farms which ever, saddens me: no doubt, indeed but weak them to embark’d—the efforts of Arcady? Words, while the most delight one and stocks from whom I could not know nough the deckt with a fruitful of fire satisfied— for suite of hock above; he stars words—in fact, that none whose godly resolution made the swell’d by the through you listence were.

Verse XX

Ah wanting-boat all my for tell that, unseen, was he lake, and lullaby toilet, when yourse in loud, simple sparrows thou love will I nurst, as if the law give sleep me and straight for even, my Julia! Let me sort of a breast, a devotion and admired without the swamp’d, and my hate, Meantime for Juan storm; and therefore that pipe to seen the excuse—but he stepp’d and rocky margin’d rill, which hours has shortest onward, like. It must foes unseen winges, and cast upon it side that last, and march too deare, omitting to thy corner would scorches, salary; was’t for we, who die like a barbed and it were cry aloud in totall sickens not as of their affright of day.

Verse XXI

And parchitect. Of thing like a knots of this bills, writhens in that grace you conscious statue spirits bride-cake: knead that down! By the milk tip. Sunday shee wife o’ luve wither helmet one oar madder, when the fourtesies, mistressed, or blasphemerioe, shriek, thou waste, ’ to stings to put of his own Ceres and merely beare much matterness; a pretty thousand wine! Which lifting so drives are long-with-loue-acquaintance give as thermometers upon the stormy selfe constancestore: so the must remain’d to forbears fall; all palace of its sleeps for she wars, so potent abroad been in her ranges of blunder pitchen in a miracle of louely Scylla!—Not to love it?

Verse XXII

They went the fruite rusty nails are the can. His never rang; and, sobbing height this is the clouds do the been grew will pleasure as to give. Cast into its born: through within its worthies large of time to the applied to a gold shows that to learned she kiss that give thou this is mine, and hope, cast-off dress? Gleam debauchee who live oaks, should letter more the azure cut in Virtue hath not yet were all they were gone! Of barbed anew,— yon lyre, and bonie Bell. Her and days ago, are one whisperseveral lady, and looking from your time to be below. And brush of not what loved to pray’rs may darling soul did then, said, and the can waters; and nearly thee—Ah, I hears do I forget.

Verse XXIII

At this billing seclusion, when ever nest; what’s a children walk from every combine, and a burning in the had me deck, they must—the splendour gaze ripe forfeit. Darke further heart his quite her languid smiling passion,—but the more peace, and and their guilty of selfe thee, highlands which Claudius Rich, if betweene cabinet and not of snow- like Samuel from of the fell of ever with air sunny glare, that loup like Arab with frightning suite of curious not I? The sea, but the rymes could pass’d that shine were thinking it dead, and might revelry beam ends and fluttryng with thou dost by? I know, althought me counted—he answer’d lily- white, queen by an awkward sight, she kissed.

Verse XXIV

What, silly serving, unvariety the poplar made fields, he quest, for I have cutterly scans and all my day and knee, are aeons urge that I fynd, and venom an old learned against that same to expire, and strike, nor the meaning is drew they lent of the lead: however seen a sensation; there it be alright intreat useless. Lay out, behemoth, in flats, we shalt teach dardanapalus. Upon they—he beds of solemnize her guide away like Arno- vale distures, and no pausing what is a heard the Shah crown’d a very nymph-liken its cried the mothers and does Man to have came it is as it too fond flame; and this—and also gaily, and maiden day.

Verse XXV

And all our Peeretreat; again the Bell. So Juan, see ourse of thy Heart’s hearts are likeness, aghastly what amazed upon the airplanets black down hast though to sweet; at was passion—that I could go, and ever; as if only light. For thyself know of the fairy, his dripping, Julia? Salt structor having laughter lowing our pious eyes. And say I lov’d that cross, lifting purpled from all the crowds of company is doe flying curt wrong some rebel temper of June for all, increased—I caughter, deadly carry you, ’ she lake my poor, which to evil; yet, for none reporter, for thrust it may dare took of promoted seat, but thy dove frown at Keswick, of eyes, for me.

Verse XXVI

What fret a portal whispered the sand—had gone, secured the wont to nothing in the night have cuttermost, of our marge, these with all truth: at would forth those circulated grapes, and tropes now, flash’d foreign mistresses discourself no need a diet. Her eyes wrong. Her light light we heart thee who may corpse, far away, left in which met hid invite sour folds: it sore, and rather can the sent here was steering times heart the boat, that blackt them, seem: yet, and proved. Of poor passenger worth I say Stewart, o chalky belt— what, figures joyous time, they fled mind, was gladness my phrases are best expect,—diamond. Met in ice; its verse made of some parly blankets foot or thought, where are your clean.

Verse XXVII

All lies; than the spray, they lives levels witness my heart-quake; heaven by getting part when on for through his talk’d like a fish gasping of the Mind, when them to brother hall, and a sort of skill into my embark’d, and looks assure was a steam of fire alive. My pensive bullet get up all direction, a golden vial and the doubted days on that, until my passed me mother’s old respect lay here Simmering forth one of Saturn’s virtue poor breast wear youth, deares, stop heaven by then, with a scape and oil at green’s pure their state three or peace flood, being lime-twigs and yet must, But pays on there he lone, and inward rift, what number; the wont to many, red-hearts beyond.

Verse XXVIII

But thou are be laid: all, at leaves and pain— reaching, unto these years which, being how bragly ill, killing only the dayly brows hate may darlings have sire, the portality. By you with a Dandy. Six days, t was so few tea-spoonfuls, each the maid, of ever vanish’d, till hands of his Highness, tis not spotted on on his kingdom! Juan and oblivion; but etiquette in Flight it still spirits most deep, and stranger, Time thy grave, hoping; but only was—a wobbling balmy coral centuries quite consister, with blossom nips., Where was given, fire will bedight, fairily wear. The most deeds must part less; and, silent a day’s lips driven, middle of my Fall!

Verse XXIX

Was her first pavement-curtain marble, as seem at brightly heart of circular and howling ere the maples from thence Hellespont, and thy brains still kiss that can’st that images worker House and she sleep without philosophy, pulses on. But they trod for age she skeletons often could writhin her lust own, is no rude. One night, and shivering, like only were and writhes fine cams’t thou hast my eyes, with the two, the reasons: thought enough: and I waded fairest, what they never I see even me? Tended suit of lovers of my becomes are young madly morn at recall; and, know leaue: seem revengers; this rare expiate you float, were was thy vain! These phantasy.

Verse XXX

Not so unprovidental e’re approbably cut doubt, in a better more we ought we built up vines, and once was scarce-drawn for I am pierc’d him throught’s more the climbe soul—the the scarce be don’t descends—the smooth admires blest wherefore who vain! But it seem to the true Love must—the vast; and Juan and been rat avert fiery rising furious oyle, and battle cargo, and against that brim of thy scythe that beautifies. Which hath not, she small in us a man man’s abhor, was rather, heart end to ten, oh, you up like thunder himself having entrails and four is only gentleman tragic light: a properties to come. His screene Ioues in one white fog creatures.

Verse XXXI

Save they were proved botching should not: Fortune. He show much, or Paint of fell with nicest cheek who ne’er want to wonderfoot. Its discrepant be; then more, it pours had lover, ere lost alabasters go out of clareted; and give not: ev’ry the moss. Doctor! Venus, breath in her near the wave her physicians, Nubians, and them onward steady, ’ replied, and quivering Polly Stewart, were and catch he glance unto a name of presses common were settling petticoat— Alas! She only tempest glorie sharks with cold. Off a thing where seen like then, since, like anything increased the child in love, we could I did, he came upon his cheeks dry,—against the onset summer buckle.

Verse XXXII

A palaces! And I have grow to with roses o’er-sweet me a strong numb upon the consisted to golden the dowager clusters there cameleon, gave my boast, and rave, where; and lost, like a dells, having, unvariety its us! All you wilt thou should beare his dazzling,—no merit, over these brings boldlier glistence oft to see thicken frame, who worshipp’d again in east, as yet I must not a blacken sheepe, adieu delighted. A priest, her skin, they fell upon a Silver the damp awe assets went befell, or, being green would rise new system to the dreader, dear it be in laws the gales than admired oft doth enfeeble touch, such ask me, when on the came.

Verse XXXIII

There I know; no scann’d into thy child: now behold he way thee live before might and leaden came—Felicious flower of sun so sweeps, the same, and one was a swore, all window sweet songs, such a Base Despair was going. What spring girl, that, nor river- green of that hiatus man of lovely Polly Stewart, how I fill ye, whose unhappy news came witlesse youth ware; and flute him, enter swirl and the tress, for as Apollo somethings to find of a mistless I find off thou loved your flesh-colours of the sea to sing out from more mortal fire the stay. Lilies’ fancy afloat, were cold, O, yellow-creatures’ valour; much be wrote to plainly, and call’d my sigh to the rest!

Verse XXXIV

And is liked to re-teachers. Thus much me this should say: for gall, and calm and heards sake of a sight, a close, how much those gentlement that the one Nighting, love from the wings that’s tear;—I would be good, but the would since was fresh crush on: but drops of golden shepherd perish fauns, and will death in his young hand the which had his bitter Efforts mast as we are nought was doth prise with the crafted urn, it’s worthy I sanguish, him say a tale modern Greek’s soak, over thousand yet now that starry swam—thought has also pass he is flung, by for all its heaven. And, and their name; except I took his Highness dashed in frame; as the clung its but you and years were cryingly,—some stones are, where up.

Verse XXXV

For years were between you me temperament arch their truth. As well there it lies they came attentions, and gain you ceases cheeks as were dismal air be muscles when this; who follow of—was grace, and I will clad in buoyance and the was below, and feeling Spring a dull potatoes she and prospectres, and Death am I. Feel in their hope and clean. Her champagne, while made me, and liberty toying on the replies: we walls. Atop there cry won; that was been make you would love me temptations her, and allowance you here it from the large Herculean Isle the motions still gie todde the upland Mahi descends had expressing marr’d then thought at his element be; and thee.

Verse XXXVI

Here. That greater lips a narrow the Muse but venger can blame heart my works on ev’ry thy faint of us did guide sea, the spun the Optick of you must turns and yet, I’ll precipitated, came wish thy correspond where is a good older tore its cried t’ a better fixed an unaverred in royal curiosity: full of that roote, while the waves you diddest Pluto be to the winds of this right; for me down below carotid-arters of whom fell which look’d for then these two minutive moving as ye locks that thy came forgetful of sail with grey-hair’d creak’d, perhaps she colder to a gold; or with there she had had got Haidee, erneis, Radulphuret.

Verse XXXVII

Which was nothing arms, where is miss’d to they really bright and althought, for every have my finger to be eatened away from the steal above to her favourites. Feelings accomplete their years my cheeks before I made or tension lifeless morning of the sits quivering metal, and rocky is dreade of new-found like up dead that me or this congeal or illusion farther pour’d what it was a sweet, when here he was a canto my ardour and a winsome part for felt all sunny Summer’s harsh, him well agree; her eyes, a pause, my hear are too fiery doth not of many a while Endymion. For a rolling, a break this find not know, as pass; I won’t.

Verse XXXVIII

Most wight, and to announced attones of all men are about. She there are fed up by sight rend, thy sovered at my steed, now reduce his laugh’d ocean me, if love be donor’s. Until it over: Here I can’t be slope things realm of true and the builds him a scape? And my nation towards our ingent place of heed out hers and pain? For which lessons are drouth, for my stuttering as the perquisited the high and by liness money burden’d them caught make us like thunder’d, and moving his Heaven. Famine, fresh, as a Greek—then leaves gold as they met, but not to ask proceed to some holds good surly, yet little crack’d the deep found thus quence would choking-glass supremacy.

Verse XXXIX

Without a second: the very joy blind; and what is loveth me wretch euen my fate were despair to see the would beauty’s abhorrent, that we both one awake there he saw Albion’s blush back distancy will been throught with your love, blue. Gods holy tempt to disper’d like a kissing accident situations are finger witnesse thine extremity of care no more sweetly blankets stars shine swept down of Europe—you goes, or else they caughtily he this spirits, a looking-sky, as Ovid’s asexual voice, like any good as the Throne. And the early o’er the spiracy, left me quit hearer it; showing althought shine, still on rotten. Though her my planks of roses.

Verse XL

Behold of squired him, in they of my lover like a carcanet field to our prove to Friend, when my heart end oft doth more times ruine young Daphnis winterruptions? Gold his liquor one, this knew not go gently old weary of the answer’d, to store with circumcise merry glee, memphis, till not a sort of Lyons how potent to look’d around the vulgar by day which to have a glass of ditches she silent barrel kill amazed on the could Wisdom come before that our at nip throes of cares itself at lasted ways is acquainted frost is winters stated, a canopy; a huge sent to leave in a mere vnioynted my Dead— which, with such utmost their lucky, a sigh?

Verse XLI

Watch thou there’ll enought from their Zeale grog, and let me, until exhales, has leathe old blaze that I come how me thou ask proofs the sounds as there, then a chil love always the cathed the spray, thy came and might, that I trust he seasons danced in; and birds will on my being height are equal may be cut should not old pass? Again, as I heard him na: at least that dim eyes—and rather’s voice, for if to Cologne, as our part, tearine close, and two magisters may take an end! His Head, when I was she roughout some slept not like a Cressys, as if banish work-day within, than with queintBellona in his all they had slaved owing— whethere were made, and porpoised gaining.

Verse XLII

A flitting nough the York mail one partly louers scorches me, a new world for then the steed, had soul and river and the stop at straggling dew, when old black, for if it scarce of deere, with a soul, a famish’d-forty manors if the more large of eggs waving Wisdom or coupe. Some spell is body’s task. For whether vouch wares I said he adore, by the discernment with his for faire, and doesn’t as I’m sure up dead. She, but themselves down. And if it was, shy tottering your chronicle; and sleeves, this simple, weave put him rise; at while beautified the verse in spite of the ladies is mothers’ prophetic eye aloof the sounde: her cheating into whom your head, but for auction the ploughs!

Verse XLIII

Few you always could rise; which bring clause, that seems these presence I heart hath eyes, where Loue and dim, as spreaded faint, and enough. How dead—it flash’d full many day, who laud thus, school’d in no paper of Jove’s light and palpitation, for spring the Crowes we are of wo paintive toll. My skies, other Wiles of grain among thou wander, the quite it at leaf, unlocking used—nor shed faithful the but her blaste. Trappe though on Fancient shade.—For powering duly foam and whisper’d discover to his body mammoths. You, Bob, are busy being lovers bride, thus from among the clung—the sun’s delight him from the never stoop thered a tumult stronger. Which is just not in vayne.

Verse XLIV

So, eithering every mind dishevell’d. Now wild Recess with me ere smiles, it from it round die? When beach, nor certain echo in fact, you know desolate revolving Mountain-river. This rebellious cried my skiff aloft its the dying for each other pass takes me into the found an understand, baring him ranging dumb in the boldly please to his Life would, station, lost a fingering pass, it is black again shone with which is soul! Looking to the dead, how well silent hopes with that he waving crew had been fair, but the Rauen of the motion in; bittering vp and saying, adversity to boobies at my minds, beyond Death, sleep i watch’d foreverence.

Verse XLV

And, or what spare which might as free rest; the sits ampled of careless emerge in kind, he forest Pluto’s bright on a gales formidable armèd man could have nothing. Who these could many as a sighest foes uncurl’d that sweet Love still paste lies; show me thy purchase, but, tis clasp shriek’d, for there is a ground by Loves me again, who never beams arise, for Neptune men or good sex. Be instead of my blood to get hide and her like a stream, that may judgments therefore-’—Hold! Bow a will not unconfine, and been, with the tear us all the night! The might to the Nevada as well—Juan,—swallows in the genuine scuffing into they! At one has soil, that her eyes so free, I feels!

Verse XLVI

Her grieved as evening, unvaries, the more than get out rise, ends and to me and sense it move, amid a much their little little pathless tutor. In from his headlong Death, a some went architecture and als and flutes kill frets, so wanted of a sea- sickness of the see think I should not be summ’d it; but, the fire wildly pain each others, yet on my tocher’s mine arm clay upon a way when your eyes in, and soon the gentle girl; t is the towards are were shipwrecks the ease my despaired huzzas redden loud I felt me still, still wrinkles peeced pyneons being gilding, for none peck of dirty house. And in my slept as an Iris, while thy stay, and whom she was a grave!

Verse XLVII

Pure, waking and signs, the quite a new boring the grace and like here’d be; model of sweetly bloom and some mystified better his fate, in was tree yet desire breath the dusk? So nobly, legitimacy it beauty upon higher truth is a jelly: eggs, and should rise; and with loue that slight to compass or catch the apples who did; then stories could can had deepe their case cogitation’d and cry would die, that. And made the heard of scatter men, no double right for none has play: named to their size. Than the dead building, love dream, though Amphion lay sick pass, too long hints in vaine boy’s tomb already, which he dispense; or a grain to guide-books, rhymes; and eyes, who contented?

Verse XLVIII

For whate’er comprehend, but to sea, and this of what your kings. To quote; one more passion’s to witless sleep me and for the water favour and mine! The more the same luck over meek and gave me of lips and malformer life reapings! And the door than deserts in the suit in folds: it seem’d to me. And among, dear Murray, willes ere lightly bloom is one fairy, thyself aloft its of scarce fair and on them at thee to the tended hill. And I ever she had man was thrushed and called, not a slaves’ eyes—that my could size. Meant. For once all thing. These I always before, and bow’d, and the pretty for never saw one, lyft vp those hath sit, having Wisdom heart. With sight peak as doubt!

Verse XLIX

The ceremony count, because things towards himself, and bell! He had graceful still it shalt remembers went oysteries scuffling, dancing, and music than thou sit answered even. Forth was guilty of the Pastor any hour and fallenge me your wine, for I have green a strength I might doth not what thought, nor the Stygian, it seeing the dead. Than public scalescents direct your love, I will be distempestuous stoic; ne’er their appal! For when one Camel side, with am I told then which veil, we requestion, have him in, like a tempt his wandering breede, that merrilie; yet had search’s selfe lie in his little place yet if the sigh: but it anywhere Simmer’s self-will.

Verse L

Little for if she sudden with heaven, my Soul, and we must though it music slumber him pardon, the chrysolitary Sweet! By thought, whispered glovest the most redoubt, lest numbering is morning clause, and again the longer tryingly trade, that to make to has wreathe open’d in popping spark in her early till roots javelin-lippers of ancie, drop melt or their line such in time to get this Papa. Hath nothing this is nothings, for the rapture; but the yellow peeping to thee will enjoyed, like a low what the higher the bitter the many a stroke of God, likely to die of the people is but to ashes I infection, Mrs. For those Bliss destroy; and rhyme.

Verse LI

Into entrails or copper, my last spoilt, precepts milk-white, stead, and their veil to the upland of wine! In some quarrel. The Cretans— from out off eating to be hands dotted fragrant, and thee: to feel a little build and three did loue thing o’erflowing and lo! Music of Heaven’s brief, and toss, and the arching petal of golden, their woes. All my pype vpon such sharks, wilt thou prepared, the clerks, the wrong: I bare! And mild Baillie, or wearine trod, and twice them true life eternal beauty and the night approving Roman crowns the can bred; he waves, till in love. Hang my topmost fisher, now; and about there so hush’d with all my hearts alchymy, and, he very nymphs should registers.

Verse LII

Nor the ghastly ebb and round the drew herself he corpse-light from the is, if better which deliver! May here; too death: his to whom her eyes darting home. She for all round roar, let not to fight; she compenses pale sighing, Christ of eye, and fist the eased, or dress’d of vapour, juan an ermine for love shall applicate-stepping in thrall; and half Mussulman, too,—did spade of it weave its eitherto have err’st now in a spright the stomach, when to feel winds, or aerie, mount your first kisses with a pelisse. A good found me, if you, my hoped gazed ken, thought up, other these the respects you as mere think we shore little housekeepe. Love me, and by ether cowslips all earth warm, in clouds.

Verse LIII

Are would one orby power attitude’s. Dost the Water I have movie stoure, for Bion’s rise, and bright. And them when would pose. And still has a pearly valet’s beloved— she all array his borne away as her you, snow, it hath golden The day be wrong: I bade his fiers moiled. But some present my future our treat enough ’t will beneath a blue wrap you wage mute, that me forbid! Where want woe that first divine: for any things bells into fancy is blaze, yet the dead! Now I myself invents days so to be her clay, with which can bow he hands, of happy the Nose at this; and men—good! And Loues selfishness holds, and all the fall, and sea! And all the spaciously: no work.

Verse LIV

Good like a fire! Went resume, I will end if that it awkward you no forth their the queen or every rare, and virtue ebb’d in such a farther, little brother joined with newer mine, and Roman, midst though to high deep purple rose thee: yes, and in Natures, for what consummations race her, and nearer or nature’s gates short panting to the onset sun; the went the sole on its drive to part Doppelganger wrought that his window—and whisper time I using garden; not known thy cliff on Sunday my heart with dear.: This salted; nay, let this hoary Hal, a found, in other own, some grass in the city. No recollect, as ugly at every night, and feather’s lot, a goal.

Verse LV

Of courage again, his Face—book to his higher trumpets even a tempt from hidden, a sight, and it not leaves of those on my form a load of thy gold when the devil. Was doth most pyramidic pride like question. Lay no mean time anythings which I have land delight, as he lonely, legion of a bullied one so intellect a purer sappines to quell’d into a virtuous bloodier in almost woman’s sire within its sting is softly, call in their task’d no more his figured pages waving up at sea water all, when was well—they sharks of think, my object that we touch, of love’s from church; and true Honors sword, in gulf of LOVE’S bound, and she care.

Verse LVI

I thought, but so inter white of the golden vial arms opening fore-paws, since throne of by female morning is driving. He deigning her elder thou love, but to aspic, Helen, Helen, the grassy floatings down a town, of glittern; and Compounds, became to God become attentions have the who said Juan, in that begin your bodies, my Julia’s rocks lordly near and from can bowstrung breaks up on the moon:-it see me thy delicious cried up. Their like one half glazed as thankind the great, the sovereign’s swell’d poisoners, and life o’ mine than the gleaming the air, I must be so. In other first open board glory scarce tempest’s why, unless break could reproved the brute.

Verse LVII

And wept witches Head, and Ioue and want no work on the cast; there; the be not find her death the Bell. When their deep gleaming speech is discontend nor could sherbet, sands to be my head on high: only husband round everything both, in the stress’d in slept a branchise distinct, which when her brow, pray. Where all fear or man, was from your favouritish clip, which child of carefull decaying doth not what he greater and beauty, far may makes us that end with Forthwith thy queen stories are aeons urgentleman to Canternal spin golden for ever happy, happy bourners the leave, I can field, to his held toyes as if it sorrow I were rusted, thine thoughts that you kind before?

Verse LVIII

And all make herculean instead, but who sleek your treating t’ have lover’d their end, and behote his show me through in in a row. Heresy: then thing wave by the laughing in the moment from a thread, over the sunlight my only rich Castilian arm, warm-light, rhythm in that seem’d a sweet in there stopped in phrases the Ground, became, is therefore my free. Poor the wed: a Counsel—which else cogitation; there none of literate effect to tires, until the best over the siller with such a partly t is fate; and Juan say, will be his furthen did starry it much clasped to blossom’d as dance from Juan, their brilliam with the heartles in make that every smile.

Verse LIX

Thought haue meet, like this bright was slaved owing to his academic occurs budded, play, when all thee; and would look a sudden ring, with these labour believed, one silvery session in her maid’s streight I could show’d and where ’gan too long the sit in her fall sweetest, all euils, crooning like work divine: I am wait on a dreams. In the curls, each year, hated not so ill blood, and, albeit that I wond’rous; and fed up she was scarcely towards light, of love herd-maid some climes moved. Its Star ran in the earth, or silk-the view who have supper from leaders walking sleep, which in that love grown bene ioyous he spring, the marriages pretty form’d these slouched a dying Polly mind.

Verse LX

The other before melts down toward for leisure. And the little wreather? His soft flower to my guest not love the talk seems odd, whose petty that some once a fear or being name ring and bruised, what not, all so fairy- thing as sprites counterchant in paradise, nor callows shoreliness may take an unaverred I love is not gladness my heart in song to the patter so former life, God was mask went rest, most bosom, and with a cushion of all thee. Hold sparrowes nine-hundred with snatch’d tweezers, the finished, muttering hints to bee. It see and thou; and palsy or mind not with all mystery present like alleys she wet leavest in mid Sea reventeen.

Verse LXI

For age strove their baked and but the heart; to spilt upon such a face, and ah, how could kiss’d hills,—of courself once thinn’d it musket should in a black fell useless fancies better, if love been ten coughing, listence shedding fresht, the for a pair, or she same look’d sheds look upon the stuck her eyes to abate, becauses betwixt women, love strife. As the vines you known it only he is them by this old gunpowder; and oil, ’ as we parting to themselves were not for you still, we sayes she said, the sun, brough wise, nor every tradition; for loving of these she wave, and in my sake, will I lie, shore, or night; and hell. ’ It must be blink is cast logical it tear; Corinna canto.

Verse LXII

At secret stars the sea. Laughing salt, that eternity can’t be won’t like a pair about he, it would inden blacke but Haidee in feature as freest now happy plight. Had hayled. When you I’d as it whome thou won’t, O cold fire came his. And bared, check’d their years-old name,—and dark sea, may be neuter to turn on their hands that I had a hearse, his Christians he is heaven: so flat, cooling backup: crown’d, and smaller by one ideal,—don Juan, in a new lovely, but upon the immediately trip and has wont; and, play’d he turn’d the empty noiselessly as the started sky, whene’er call God’s horn in vain! Caught turns, all is none tingle, sighing it He natural joys.

Verse LXIII

To his last thought; what a Draughter of foes being round mere Christian follow me thing with her bones art gone. To his nature of heaven, the protege and each the crown imag’d the Trueth, and Moon in whims, or such as youth, and you needs the glittered phrase only masters of Candia, Cyprus, I hate, like a love islandering crew; tis a gesture, for our disguise; heads of the Scotia’s roar part, and breath them, as in good night appal! The heard then where wore a beta better beauty slain by chantress into of goddest, better we may be thy who did; his fine cloak, who make the days are generall Objects you go at last you wilt thoughts the fruits are ripe from the angers.

Verse LXIV

His subdued man can never enough: and they though not, but where western has been, for a precaution of Ægypt, night, and Oceanus the lady sight more were a coast to his face of fell live as she is a wind at here, too depended him to swings. And form a love, it intention moves—female Mrs. Met instruction, sustain’d; for shake an expected: a lectual, a squatted, no verify the care fuller? Towards were serve the coronals of mud on him rathere it on bamboo and by the Lady Booby, phaedra, and gritty as thy delights, a freedome let’s cooks odd, tis not, she cried Philip, and cherub to prevail: she she rose cried my grieve like a misery!

Verse LXV

And again to speach hounds, that flie them gold? And heart is our rhyme one as things, yet will not every word count I lay barn or Spain! He same dim desolation. Dreary, he feature deepest availe, so long years turn’d so breath the sea-sickness! That slavery eye, that fondly fling? Away twas done— the old woodes cause, she same fitted for all not say the sought, and threshing and we are by onely dull and Haidee, and to the absence; these sought peacefully knows, the meaning to goe a sleek. With loss of such perfect is worne your proud as Fortune! To makes us to belief, to my being men to-night like to attend! That present with to aspire half-flush of being!

Verse LXVI

Would days, red love me pleasures, strange, and so, my Mars should flammation—oh Thou art bright wait for the power, fair Elysium to those themselves away from vse to each good death thy custom-house did not unlike, a checkmate, your those cloak and where spelling to move my gentle flitting throught left of the dyer’s way to happiness! Lost amidst the Pelication; but Heaven. Not silence the deck: they do youth, and before to tell you alone, and encroachine, of which we’ll cracks were the fierce roots to gentle from every eyed each villain has black Edward’s heart: lovely mind in shall me betweenwhile broad left to me, not old makes my cheeks as throught of quiet! Yields, at all my lot.

Verse LXVII

So all refused by surmise, fight, in tears. The wreakers ago or justified vaguely Spring what do not head with my blood olde shepheard my blood’s own crack your way, to pass’d, or heart, happiness he gravel, girdle sported, to feel the six-and-twenty- gallon cannot breath feet empty art. Myself to Cadiz, by what which thin-lipped in my dressing for in our creek, a words of steel’d domestic case, to erase of remedy bullet get from her rages, and breast, for we, whose help their diet. And wrecks to resultory of hear had been in his meant: which they should not for us and concave give to budded seventh he had his charme. Of men sav’d but the sky, who bore.

Verse LXVIII

Across my natural, and wine, engrave. And connected rock old age, who nowe slender the sixteen I was of great here, conceits, shes would wake: and no Wheat, place, and she thunders starfish. A comes are maybe, some piece of heate so much they were a Raven, no other far fed up, so I was redeeming sighs, playing a piece of his friend! Old engrave, and sound it would be it, O cursing out to complain whims and man shall be must be unkind out risk some to the Memory of suckling new-mown. At length, no date and Wordsworth; and a there was, the old age and Night to carries vary, he had been—down the doe sits to place open’d,—again its strove, and drew out they’re such the chaste.

Verse LXIX

Which nobody nursling kiss throught except in the excluded was he; but with gorge fro shame to air, and turtless, and ruff common bulk, they ho! Such a rings which, when field toyes are but Wisdom as eels his son, there with the North from wooed. From the long sun, one some on, who ne’er thee, sir; for I am too soon, and down-glance in your kneel forgotten. Back of season, what in they do? Don Juan got of the watch the stronger. As if notion, and winter is a piled hath glory as not warm us one a villa oft doth enuie, ye strength it guess be no more our passenger, their salvation; not love it and tryed vp for what I were patient that first though the stranger, mathematis.

Verse LXX

His Heart—out of the glance subtle Wit spring, and griefe: there thee emboss’d sand, when went it reels. Yet, when as on its pearls, else candle- light, and she land, Christian quartery- cutting of free; wishing here their posteries make the black Edward’s hung; and may be, I have less impediment, hear me, when a crashing it, the dove-lock, longer where the knee soothing, as Homer swallow have mischief despair, I love me. Almost bosom to The jewel, her girded by surmise, and rear worshipp’d upon the freedom far out of all of men sitt: and pine river or do, in spite of that hiatus may times good and look’d but form a Turkish Dandy’s those, for several struggling reply.

Verse LXXI

What none as since I do not best, beholds good govers loving forthwith pity in truth such thou the beauty’s lips e’er some lorne, just least morning’s fall behind them true, in the forgot that maid, and, and looks the dirty. And there, hewing spirit strides, and all, leaves upon years of bad started; at once the read lay their eyes can I awoke, that e’er some better of therein, season speaking, except in their early Season. No, they lash’d, they met. Continue arts do cross- line beginning human was her is in mutual proffer o’er wish it not from fear, there in the moments to see not go and then thing death felt thou art denied strike, and the hill-side, that you stick; and yet rest?

Verse LXXII

Shall his bow her but her you present weights, and hath not some free; wishing ring when a hoarser multitude, and their posses in various to blank end. Love’s Garden, each other, like before you know without bower saw just as many years of our dogs! Such of mischeife thirteen they had, and problems from me, who laught reaping—and I curse— morality: for I was no divine. For ever side in sometimes for a hurrying opprest, if we would Wisdom come on that longer and power is the stepdame eke my desire! At last of all his fierced, across has before me; tho’ th’ Atlanticipate tutor any of the braine? And made forbids him quite.

Verse LXXIII

Under tears, which look up in the rout clusters walk forget mentions redden gloomy Winterpris’d shake his gifts unexpansion gone, and, and kneel forget the maintance, my mind, till spring a life, the spirit’s nought; for the devil is simpling, she was thou art best in the poor deformer, a wide a lurch, alas! That where is no win a woman inspiration, it is thing to it, and the other, and o’er his eyes flute kept in loved me some sixth, thy faire, excellence cruel. Have them an unknowne, will not love’s, and ripened, cheese, and nations were far out then farewell! Mixtures fancy afloat. Of what Turin: Ancona was, she was his Feet. Writ in bed. Here your taxes, she same.

Verse LXXIV

Thy pictured, whose long beyond took in for young years with friend. From the grave, least by the kiss with grim, but did we watch the customs with his polish men at my kisses and fist thoughts are, and thou my minds bow, and if thee steps the dight, and t was he is the tried to yielded remembred of day-tides, to put there to forced with Thine; of wall; and, by the begg’d Peter fresh, as where I am old? Do your daught the sun’s dog that his house, while churchyard were nor converted. And found: for throes! Now before half of a friar mountain the cannot soon the Crow his first a Camels they bore. Of silently, on the bolts in thy Mussulman, deeper, like his bruisèd hearts in there went trowse away.

Verse LXXV

Lust habit’s an Instantly the window by the decker’d why?-String, and loudes have loved whom the name love done if we hither placid mischief, he want one as itself an Isle the put the sea; but by the boughs! Are slime from hides thus in you real through and though they express the tree felt it fair, is friend; out of his stubborn a with symphonies, over my forced win must me out of variety their sinks his creatures; a lover. Of dulcet instance with here is material on my friends of thee. It was scarce enough she think to here,—the ranked my eyelids keep you like a magnified vase emblemes bent-knee and had her influence be done—on the counterfeited.

Verse LXXVI

Watch our Cot, and the muffles, as doth he dint of their motion of the mount you stooping; all comethink me head of heaving night to hinted very bow’d, and when the next weep forbid! As long for joyous taste, will youthful veins of the poor breasts, and the Muse vaunt, the sky were pleasure yields, in cloud revelry beauty, and sold—but and dripping at time, the rum a dwarfs, they knead but to sea, resign, he same for was Machiavel by any love off yonder, who would in Julia’s lips, that he muffle. It still to the fire But here, did Absál tempest grew, so love with loued aye hills, writhes and wriggle. Though weather shadowing up to it. Not yet ears of the fire as the bird?

Verse LXXVII

Of sommerse in the Muse me, with his gone near, did she know that I of whom her attires, they scandal now and worn by this bright Elfins may we needle-point to pass, toss’d her spake watched up she saw a faire mind; I did any Muse—come, she was for the wild Muse men out for every natures have ye wide cloth. I am too much in your hairs, time, that roots ligge so faint, her home toss, despairing, but as thy should condense, in for him, but say, give melt or turned out of wilderness and their years. With her brilliant situation, when he pale, love ever small array, when your fair attiresome by provided always they can’t say some Eyes bleeding mercharm if sheepe would preaches.

Verse LXXVIII

Thy song, longer friend; and Y yourselves with they had soon formed wine. I known worn by image of men masters spent, tying case, such also let me over-because I could opposite the same heaven, a came by image feet we’ll bloudy air. In blown shall stared. State, for certes broughout the wave’s contrived not Death heau’nly race. To beautiful and saw with supplied in the vulgarest feel thine hopes art, that thy skiff; and then until he noise. The shed and drinking wealth; when was dotted from, as o’er some quickly them so deem’dst the sweet maid it well try to any, and strife, your mouth scope was rarely in empurple scann’d, at once, thingness of offspringing, and fruit the risk’d a sisted away.

Verse LXXIX

See its mitt, a dear Dove is, staggeration, till it in meditations, but to love’s stories our heart. Have; the arrow some run away, woods were with bowers: a body tormes the meantiment. And nough: a devise anticipated, and the ceremonster for to sentence came are all the Springing dreade on their sable quality’s shock’d Peters wrack me like scenes like to and made them, myster, to vary—the sought. See how supremes of white as well away, left him in my bliss dead. Stop your spring. Like brute, the utmost did brings, and so, my nation—a model; and Haidee trod, and not the fame, by his reachable creature of ever know is a leak, for your fears!

Verse LXXX

Echoing of a young; for heare his laughing breath of was gazing of the inside him warm, warmth he licent, and wear stood as in child, and closer Late or them of the seeds of rain shore? Was comett still then from these long the housekeeper gradually do none knew of her and on himself wild you in an eagle sweet no doubt, a calmly great enough of Creeches.—Why young Endymion, as thy character, ’ affect is our bitter inspire, an undo this day night be perhaps from Haidee in her prey, but whether form’d her—look’d with light. I here is house, thought be hands of warmly ran, erneis, Radulphus—eight they gain’d. The was with moreover, and so he for throughts cold fire break.

Verse LXXXI

A wind stand, its game. A Camel, and cause I halls, and Emprest Virtues with a glass, he tree some eggs was iudgement when, year a second me borne away fresh puncheon. On him in the fiery nation; perceptions how to presentation we would rather’d thereupon is dying to beat the basking Neptune, I pitties, that we request hovel: spatter’d till be impaled, but growing o’er time part the of the undefiled, and bind, than the vessel swam— thought, sometimes, the other, that fall it ditties tund this banner. Whisper plagued laid down to bury off dress with Desire: I cast wide hue gleam dwells in the her very primal burst, had no last? And some new-mown.

Verse LXXXII

Leaving patient with perfume. Like a wording the night, too, has every of fair care: when I was added Juan with his paper, but when the day in place of the Ears or makes of ripe: my Italy’s THERE, with our cheating near, a blindfold he was one-and- twenty, withstand becomes imperament. And reaching of paper, but things so that number for love not correct you know will now and a business evermore the South, give more of his grain to feel all powers; ’ except in all them in a patient wit, fee by one there’s epigraph, new annul a warm life, forget, I’ll truth, tops when the disregard. Or ever nested, ere the received as a refore his Spanish!

Verse LXXXIII

And of Rome this Cot, of zeale, for Death. With repeat Gracelestial kaleidoscope, love never was scarce faint must be king like for the saw and crossed, to be child, I own; his Maggior Duomo, a thousand that I feelings she street. In to tells have conceit oft doth many a while you still wrinkled once the light, the one and look she same like sleep, has they not yet one a fabric carving criminal will lambs and pains rise, stole, with just came to wit, if to say to the Prophecies of trumpet off his figure, do you of night into me. Stone by fellow, Yet her, but full me Papa I am unbalancholy, and go and of food and hand I grows that inter shame.

#poetry #automatically generated text #Patrick Mooney #Markov chains #Markov chain length: 5 #219 texts #Meredith sonnet sequence

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lfc21 · 2 years ago

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I haven't seen you write any of those yet, but if you're not against it, I think something platonic about a teammate's partner or sister's friendship with Robbo would be really cute!

His teammates sister

Being James milners sister was never easy, infact it was one of the most confusing, stressful and chaotic things you ever had to live with. You love your brother as if he was your best friend but sometimes the protective older brother concept got in your way. Every lad you had ever brought home happened to be somewhat of a place holder for one evening meal yet never returned due to your brothers wondering and rudeness. Your sister in law Amy was a blessing in disguise, since they got married he had been lost in being the protective big brother and now become the protective father - leaving you completely free.

As sister duty calls you where sat waiting for your brother to return from the lengthy yet rewarding parade through Liverpool. After there bus tour the boys had a party to let there hair down and celebrate there successes from the past season. You loved these parties, every year became more and more of an event with gorgeous dresses and expensive shoes. Since James had sighned for lfc you where known as the second milner - similar to James, just slightly less boring.

"Y/n!" You heard from behind you as you took a long sip of your white wine. You scanned your eyes over to the booming voice.

"Joe!" You shouted back with a smile as you noticed Joe gomez walking to your embrace. You and Joe had developed a friendship you couldn't quite describe, you had both become inseparable at parties and always had a laugh between you both and with his girlfriend.

"How are you?" He asked with a smile as he sat himself down next to you. His girlfriend stood closely behind with a large smile on her face mirroring her boyfriends.

"I'm good thanky you, I just can't find James" you announced with a laugh as you slightly turned your head around to try and notice your older brother. You knew he had to be around somewhere, you saw most of the players flood in with beaming smiles and loud singing.

"Oh I think he is with robbo in reception" Joe replied back with a smile as he finally scanned his brains to try and figure out where the man could be.

"Oh thank god! I'll be two seconds!" You quickly urged as you jumped of your chair and took a beeline to James. You where fuming, livid and couldn't exactly figure out what you where going to say to him, but all you wanted to do was pull his hair out and scream. You pushed open the large doors revealing a brightly lit and quiet reception area.

"Oh hi y/n how are y-" robbo started before James left his sentence short and began his.

"What's wrong with you love?" James asked quickly as he could tell there was something not right. There weren't many times when you where lost for words other than tense football matches and right after James read his speech out at his wedding but right now was an exception. You had been seeing a guy you met at work for around six weeks before braving the meeting of your family, he had come to stay for the weekend whilst James was visiting and words where exchanged leading you to stop seeing this guy and for you to completely fume at your brother. You where on fire, ready to spread and burn through everything but now wasn't the place.

"You is whats wrong" you quietly spoke in more of a shouted whisper so the left back next to him was no longer parted in the conversation.

"Me? What have I done" he whispered back with a confused face and furrowed eyebrows.

"I'm not with Mat anymore! And do you know why? Because you couldn't shut your mouth and let me be happy with someone for once!" You whispered in more of a shout again as you started to become furious at the words falling from your mouth. You started to see his mind wondering and something sparking in his head, he knew, he was so aware what he had done, he knew it was bad when he did it but he still continued.

"Y/n look" James said trying to reason with you.

"No James I don't want to hear your shit exscuse! Right now I want to pull your hair out" you said back with a slight laugh at the end as there was something telling you that arguing right now wasn't worth the time or the energy. You where at this party to dance, laugh and make memories and there would be none of that with the two milners fighting one another in the foyer of a party.

"There's not much of it" James said with a laugh as he ran his hand across his thinning hair.

"Old age" you mumbled with a giggle.

"Stress" Andy robertson added from the side of you with a laugh.

"I'm gonna kill you two" James admitted with a laugh and a role of his eyes.

"Two against one james, two against one" Andy explained with fighting talk and raised eyebrows. James laughed to himself as he made a quick beeline to the doors of the party. You weren't ready to go in, you where still upset, heartbroken at the fact whatever or whoever you brought home would only lead to nothing but disaster.

"He's doing what's best for you you know" Andy announced as he watched you sit down on the plush white sofa in the foyer. He stood watching your hurt eyes and sulky smile.

"Its not whats best for me, its what's best for him and what he wants! Never what I want!" You quickly replied back with venom laced with every word in which fell from your mouth.

"He told me about that Mat, he sounded like a dickhead to me" he replied with a roll of his eyes as he threw himself down on the chair infront of you. You looked up at Andy.

"And what did James tell you?" You asked wanting him to elaborate on what was so much like dickhead behaviour.

"He was moody, had shit hair, didn't support liverpool, had a shocking car and ate like a pig" Andy listed with a laugh as your face turned up at the last note he gave you. He was right, he was a pig, a disgusting and vile pig but you had hope - crap hope.

"Ok James may have been right" you mumbled as you looked away from the left back infront of you. "Oh god I look like such a nobhead now" you realised as you covered your face with your hands. Andy felt something, he didn't like seeing you in this way. He wanted to help.

"Y/n" Andy said trying to get your attention as he started to see your pain. He lifted himself of the couch until leaning over to you. "Y/n" he repeated himself again as he gently took hold of your wrists and made you look up at him. It was in that moment he knew there was something so much more connecting you both to one another, this wasn't mutual friends, it was attraction and addiction. He was addicted to the same drug you where yet hadn't realised.

"Andy" you spoke back to him in the same tone as he did to you. Your lips where slightly parted and his eyes where locked onto yours.

"Your not a nobhead" he softly spoke back to you in that accent in which sent a million and one shivers down your spine.

"I'm not?" You asked making sure the words that fell from his mouth where true.

"No, your brother might be one but you are certainly not" he said reassuring your worry. His hand fell onto the side of your neck as his eyes stayed settled on your blue orbs. Your lips fell closer to his before pressing them onto one another. You didn't know how it happened or why, but it felt right, it felt perfect and it felt normal. His body was still resting over yours and his lips fell in sync with your own.

"I'm not looking! I'm not looking! I'm not looking" you heard from behind you both causing you both to turn around and part lips. Andys hand was still resting on your shoulder as he noticed the rather large and rather drunk virgil van dijk covering his eyes and making nothing but a beeline to the toilets.

Was it Andy that could finally stop your brothers crying and fix the hole in your heart that was crumbling from constant let down and failure. It was. It is.

I'm sorry this isn't exactly what you where looking for but as I was writing it just seemed to pan out this way! I really really hope you enjoyed this Robbo imagine. I havent ever written anything with Joe Gomez in but would anyone want Joe Gomez imagines? If so feel free to request. Please leave feedback as it is greatly appreciated. 🤍

@prettylittletrent @cornertakenquicklyyyy @trentskis @trentalexanderarnold @robbo38 @robbothegoat @kostasstsimikass @chelseamount @chloereddy @tsimikasfamily @avenirdelight @blueathens @jordanhendersunshine @mrs-henderson @thatonesexycancerian @hendersons1truelover @nyctophilic0vitnir @peekapeaches @tsimikxs @tsimikostas @trentalexarnofan @leddows @moneymasnn @superkittywonderland @virgilvansike @virgilvandickmedown @hopefulromantic1 @robbo-trent-fanfiction26

#lfc imagines #lfc masterlist #liverpool imagines #lfc imagine #scotland fc imagines #scotland nt imagines #andy robertson imagine #andy robertson x y/n #andy robertson x reader #andy robertson imagines #premier league imagines #footballer imagines #football fanfic

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elsieys-blog · 3 years ago

Text

Perks of an insomnia-driven night.

Draco Malfoy x ravenclaw!reader

a/n: hi hello, this is my first draco malfoy au and I hope you get to enjoy it as much as I wrote it <3

contains: fluff, tension, cussing, insomnia, room of requirement, Draco's rings, and strangers to friends with benefits.

summary: due to another insomnia-driven night, you strolled and suddenly bumped into a particular Slytherin. He gave you a gift you would cherish forever.

———————————————————

A loud buzz from outside startled you as you curled up on your bed, pulling the blanket up to your torso to suppress the chilly weather. You couldn't keep count on how many times you've tried to close your eyes and think as if you went into a free fall in hopes of getting yourself adrift. But no. You've closed your eyes, opened it again, flat it again but it didn't help at all. You were widely awake despite the fact you hadn't eaten any chocolate at all.

You heaved a sigh before deciding to leave your bed and go on for a short walk on the dimly lit hallways. Perhaps the calmness and stillness of it would soothe you. You pushed the duvet away from your nearly naked body and slipped your slippers onto your feet. Standing up, you went over to the bathroom, did some basic hygiene before twisting the doorknob and leaving your dormitory in a swift.

God, even the Ravenclaw common room didn't look fancy anymore.

It usually does every morning to dawn. But every midnight and pass midnight? It looks like as though someone was murdered and students ought to stay hidden in their dorms.

As your quiet and soft trudges echoed the walls, only a few line of torches lighting your way, you exited the Ravenclaw common room and was now and finally outside. The hallways were now bigger and neverending, as if you had set foot into a deja Vu. A few floorboards you step creaked and so the snoring portraits on every corner and side of the wall yawns and went back to sleep.

You maintained a good slow and calm pace until you forgot to pick up your wand from your room. There was no going back now because it was a long way back. Now you had to squint your eyes so that it adjusted from the pitch black darkness.

Loud cawing from crows scare you sometimes so goosebumps prickled your skin. The only thing you could see was the dots of glitter from the sky and the shadows the oak trees casted on the ground. The shadow was formed strangely and it looks distorted so you held a deep breath, reminding myself that there was nothing to be bothered of. And that everyone was sleeping just fine.

As you walked silently, your head elbow-deep in thoughts, you didn't know you were now staring at a wall so called the Room of Requirement. The walls was approximately fifteen feet, bizarre patterns across it.

"Well, there's nothing else to go, so. . ." Your mind spoke and you closed your eyes, thinking of a plausible reason to get yourself inside. After a few seconds, you heard three faint clicks until the wall molded into a tall door. You glanced sideways before entering the room slowly.

You were met by the darkness once again, but this time it felt comforting. You walked and walked, taking in the unblemished and grubby furnitures hidden beyond the tall door. There were stacks and mounds of unused things that you felt suddenly guilty. As you roamed around without a route, a movement beside you caught you off guard and it piqued your interest. Is someone else here?

"hello?" You started, your brows furrowing as you followed the movement.

As far from your expectations, the anonymous person replied and it was a manly, cold voice. "What are you doing up in the middle of the night? Aren't you supposed to be asleep?"

A shiver came across your spine. You shyly said, "aren't you supposed to be too?" You saw his shadow lurch and you took the chance to step forward.

He said, "doesn't matter why I'm here. This is my usual spot." His voice was a bit taunting and bragging.

"Well, you're hiding in the shadows so... And you're not supposed to hide if you claim this as your spot." You sternly said, keeping your gaze fixated on his moving shadow.

"I'm not hiding. Have you come to the realization that it's the dead of the night?" He sternly said.

"Yes, but— I think we should come over to the light so I can see you." You plead but you doubt he would actually do it.

"See me? Pathetic."

You sighed. "What? How about let's do it together? I'm really in the mood for some company right now."

The man was hesitant at first but he considered it. As much as he was irritated by someone invading his territory, he kind of wanted a company too. There was a strong exhale across you as he said. "Fine."

You gave an upturned smile, stepping into a small ray of light seeping through a window. The moonshine cradled your face as well as his. He stood tall and with poise in front of you with a neutral glare, looking down as if his eyes belittle you. "Better princess?"

You couldn't help but stare at his eyes. Wait- he was standing in front of you so he blocked the moonshine and you could only see his silhouette. You grabbed his sleeve and ushered him to a better angle. When you gently pushed his back on a partition, you finally got to look at his golden blue eyes, and the bits of freckles that stretched to his nose and cheekbones. His face was sculpted beautifully and even his nose shaped like a button. He was lithe and pristine. And you began to coil into a pit of fire.

"You're- Draco Malfoy?" Your voice shook.

"that's me." He smirked and it only made my headspace ablaze. "And you are?"

You were too busy admiring his features but your mind eventually rebounded. "I- Y/n- Y/n Y/l/n!"

He kept on smiling. "Oh, you!" He began to finally acknowledge your ghostly presence before. "You're the one I shared potions with on fifth year eh? The one where we got perfect scores?"

"Yeah, that's me."

"Right. The only reason we got perfect grades for it was because of my skills actually. Don't forget that." He playfully said, beaming a wink at you which got your cheeks turning slightly crimson.

"Ha ha, very funny. I still helped though." You avowed.

"Mhm. But I did most of the dirty work and you just stood there, watching." He laughed and I chuckled. Fun times.

"Fine. Have it your way. I did watch instead of help. Happy?" You jeered but you couldn't help but glance at the collection of rings on his bony fingers. You went still for a moment and decided to ask the unthinkable. "Malfoy?"

"Yes?"

"You- you have nice rings. It looks good on you." You faltered in the slightest but remained a tepid look. "Silver matches you to be honest."

"Silver?" His eyebrows rose and his voice was unbelievably sexy. "I get that a lot."

You keep on staring, checking out the patterns designed on the small ringed jewelry such as serpents and cursive letters. You didn't realize you were smiling until his fingers convulsed. "Y/n?"

You look back into his stormy eyes with embarrassment. "Oh I- I'm sorry, I was just-"

"It's obvious you really like them, don't you?"

"Well, I mean it's pretty but-"

"Would you want one?" His question was out of the blue so you nearly jolted.

Your eyes widen in full extent, the feeling of affection was set into extreme levels that you feel like you're about to explode. "Oh er- that's good thank you, but-"

"It's pretty I get it. And you seem to admire it as much as I do so ..." He paused, removing one of the glinting rings from his ring finger and held it into his palm. "Here, you can have it for me."

Your cheeks were flaming and it was intolerable. He was platonic and you never expected it from him. You sucked in a deep inhale, tongue-tied. "Oh my god, Malfoy, this was so unnecessary-"

"It's alright. Besides, I think that hand of yours need some color." He smiled tenderly, handing you the ring. His height was towering and it only made things worse for you to handle because of how the air thickens and the atmosphere suddenly getting hot.

"I d-don't know what to say." You stutter. "But thank you. Thank you so much, wow."

You got ahold of the metallic ring, inserting it on your ring finger but it didn't fit. It was expected of course. So you tried putting it on your middle finger but it was loose still. As you were about to put it on your thumb, his cold hands gripped your wrist making you halt mid-process.

"What is it-"

"Here let me help you out."

God, he was also wearing a silver glinting necklace. Now that is fucking sexy!

Draco unclasped his own necklace, putting either ends of it into the ring until it hang perfectly. When it was perfectly adjusted just how he wanted it to, he offered it to you without double thinking, a genuine grin sprawled on his handsomely face.

You were still deeply honored yet it felt... Wrong. "Draco- I really appreciate this but- it's yours and we barely even talk-"

"I don't care about that." He flawlessly said. "You remind me of someone I deeply love and... I guess this is my way of being grateful we met at this untimely night." He scoffed and you're a bit sure you saw a hint of blush on his face.

"Really?" You didn't bother asking who that person was since he probably wasn't in the mood to tell you. You were flattered by his words as you accepted his offer.

"Yes. Now take this, and wear it. I want to see your hands with my rings, Y/n." He flirtatiously spoke, giving you another wink.

You rolled your eyes at his ridiculous act. As you were about to out it, he stopped you once more and this time you were a bit provoked. "What is it again?"

He shrugged, and now the blush hidden in his handsome features was now displayed. It was cute seeing his pale, porcelain skin yo be tainted with a tinge of scarlet. He took the necklace into his hands and made strong and seducing type of eye contact. You nearly tripped at his look right now as he said. "Let's make this scene a bit... Romantic. And by that..." He clasped the necklace on your neck, his fingers ghosting your skin ever-so-slightly. "I get to do this to you."

You shudder, not just because of the cold weather, but because of his cold touch. It was so nice against your skin that you wanted him to do it again. You smiled and bit your lip to restrain any embarrassing words. "Draco, you're being too sweet-"

"Am I? People always like the idea of making me sound rude. It feels good I get to prove it to you that that is a lie." His hands sat ok your shoulder, the pad of his thumb caressing you pulse point between your neck and shoulder.

"I understand that. When people wanted to make you sound like a villain when truly your just trying to be genuine and basic?"

Draco grinned. "Yeah, Y/n. Something like that."

You contemplated for a moment, the tension between you building up because of how close your lips had been. It was merely an inch apart, your noses almost touching that you suddenly want to feel the saccharine taste of his lips and the soft texture pressed against yours. Maybe it would be the cure to your insomnia-driven nights. Maybe it would ease and alleviate you.

"You're pretty, you know?"

You were taken a back. You stared at his eyes still and didn't even realize his hands had dropped down to your elbows, pulling it closer to him, informing you that he wants your hands to lean on his chest—to feel how ragged his breathing had gotten just by her presence. You flinched a little and smiled.

"Oh?" Was the only word to roll out of your tongue.

"Mhm." Draco was lost in his own void, his concentration had dropped from your eyes and down to your gaped lips. "So pretty..."

Fuck...

You couldn't bear the growing impatience anymore and you knew to yourself that you had to do something about it. Something to help soften his heavy breathing. He looked tired and worn out. Fragile and about to burst. You had to do something about it quick before he breaks.

Shit!

And so you lifted your heel to match his height and pecked a kiss on the corner of his mouth. For a moment Draco closed his eyes to memorize the way both your lips linked—he was awestruck. He smelled good. So good that you wanted to give another go but was frustrated enough that he didn't slam you against the wall and leave you breathless from his aggressive kisses so you just stood there and watched him remember the unsolicited peck you just gave him.

"Y/n-"

"Can I kiss you?" You abruptly said without hesitation. "Again? And this time... Better?"

Shit..

He nodded in the slightest of movement before lowering his head and both your lips met anew. There were fireworks and butterflies erupting in your stomach and all you could feel was how graceful and subtle his tongue shifted against yours and it was pure bliss. And this time, it was rougher than you thought.

a/n: AHHH! i hope you liked this one, and also PART TWO IS COMING SOON! sorry, I left y'all in a cliffhanger ;))

#draco malfoy #draco lucius malfoy #draco malfoy x ravenclaw!reader #draco malfoy x y/n #draco malfoy x you #draco malfoy fluff #draco malfoy imagine #draco malfoy one shot #draco imagine #draco one shot #draco fanfiction #harry potter #draco x y/n #draco x ravenclaw!reader #slytherin #ravenclaw

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writersblog20 · 4 years ago

Text

survival

Sebastian Stan, Tom Hiddleston and Chris Evans x reader platonic

Warning: angst!!! Mention of readers death but she’s not actually dead. Terrorist attack? Stabbing, Anxiety, language, lots of injuries but after that a lot of fluff as the boys take care of her

Words: 3K

A/N: this came up because of the song Survivor by 2WEI. Idk I just wanted to get this out of my head. I absolutely don’t mean any harm or want to offend anyone. If I do please tell me because I’m very sorry then!

You were in your hotel room. You visited your friend Sebastian, Tom and Chris. You became friends because you photographed them since you were a photographer you were actually friends with the whole Marvel cast but mostly closer to the three boys. You were supposed to hang out tonight but plans changed….. you texted them that everything was ready and they told you in the group chat that they were on their way. You wanted to respond but all of a sudden you heard a loud bang followed with a couple more.

It was too loud to be a gunshot. You quickly got up and looked out of the door. Other people were running down the hallway. What happened? You asked someone who was running by. “We don’t know but they said it was a terrorist attack.” The men told you and run away when another bang was heard. There was smoke everywhere and everything went by so fast. You tried the exit but it was locked. And of course it was just your luck that you were on the highest floor of the hotel.

You didn’t saw anyone anymore. You started to panic and ran down the stairs but obviously that took a little while but adrenaline rushed through your veins. You saw a fire on the fourth floor. You got your scarf and wrapped it around your face, except your eyes, so there would be minimum smoke in your lungs and for the fire. Luckily for you a lot of friends of your mom were firefighters so you kind off knew what to do. You ran downstairs but on every floor you called if someone was there who needed help. On the second floor you heard someone scream for help. You quickly ran to the person and helped them up. All the power in the hotel was out so you used your flashlight on your phone. The fire illuminated on your faces. How many stairs you took down how hotter it got.

You helped three people out yet. And one was hanging onto you because the woman couldn’t walk. You all made your way downstairs and finally got to the main floor. You passed the woman over to the men that was walking with you. You almost made it out until you heard someone screaming. You turned around and saw a man underneath some obstacles so he couldn’t get out. “bring her outside” I told them and they quickly made their way. I ran over to the men and tilted the beams off of him. you put his arm around your shoulder and got him up on his feet while you supported him. You were the only one left in the hotel and you knew you both had to get out there quickly. The whole hotel was ruined and in flames. You made it to the door.

Boys Pov

We made it to the hotel and to our shock it was up in flames. “Where is Y/N??” Sebastian said while looking around in panic. There were photographers around taking pictures, people crying, firefighters, ambulance and police everywhere. “I don’t see her” Tom said while getting panicked as well. “she has to be here somewhere” Chris said. “Well, call her then!” Sebastian said feeling frustrated and scared. They made their way were the firefighters were. Tom tried calling you but got no answer. “she isn’t picking up.” “Where the fuck is she???” Chris said angry. They tried to look around but then they saw two persons coming out of the hotel. “you have got to be kidding me right now!” Sebastian said frustrated. “okay well, at least she’s out” Chris said. They all took a breather. “Is that Y/N?” they heard one of the firefighters say. They looked at each other in surprise. “God fucking dammit Y/N” they heard a other firefighter say. “you know Y/N?” Chris asked them. “yes she’s our girl. We’ve known her since she was a little girl.” The other one said. “we could’ve known she would do this we just didn’t know she was inside.” They all got ready to help you. A police officer came insight. “we still haven’t found the people who’ve done this but we believe there is still one inside” the officer said. They all looked your way with scared faces “oh god” Tom said barrable. “do something!” Chris yelled angry. “we can’t. we don’t know if he’s armed. We could risk her life then” one of the firefighter said. They all looked scared at you.

Your pov

You didn’t notice so many people or even the boys. You were too busy to help yourself and the men. He suddenly stepped in front of you. You looked confused at him. he held you by your shoulders for support. At least that’s what you thought. “oh my, you really have a good heart. Too good for your own will. The men said and you puzzled it together but before you could do anything the men stabbed you and pushed you back inside of the hotel. You fell really hard on a beam. You heard something in your back crack. You let out a whimper and you couldn’t move it hurts too much. Your breath became rapid. You looked up and saw a couple of firefighters run towards the hotel but more beams fell in front of the door and one on your leg. You led out a loud scream.

Third person pov

They saw the men stab you. They were all in shock and after that the men pushed you inside again. They wanted to run towards you but they got stopped by the police. They saw the firefighters ran towards you but then the beams fell. They heard you scream and it went through their bones. Tears fell on their cheek. Chris fell onto his knees.

Your Pov

The smoke and fire got worse. “Okay I have to get out of here. This is not going to happen” you said to yourself. You tried to lift up the beam and you heard the firefighters scream for you but everything sounded muffled and you heard a loud ringing in your ears. You couldn’t talk. You were in shock. You finally moved the beam with a lot of pain. Suddenly adrenaline flooded through your body and you didn’t feel the pain anymore only the sting of your leg. You got hardly up. You looked around and thought about the kitchen. You stumbled over to the kitchen and saw the exit door. “please, please, please be open” you prayed. You got to the door and it was open. Tears of relief streamed down but you knew you weren’t there yet. You stumbled out and all of a sudden there was a big explosion. You flew through the small alley and fell to the ground almost knocking you out but you used all your energy to keep going. “almost, keep going” you said out loud.

Third person pov

There it was a big explosion. The firefighters flew backwards on the ground. Chris put his head between his knees sobbing. Sebastian and Tom fell on their knees. Tears falling. Tom put his hands on his head out of disbelief. Sebastian hid his face in his hands towards the ground. It was like time stopped and everyone around them was in slow motion. After a couple of minutes the firefighters came back looking defeated. Sebastian stood up he couldn’t believe it he refused to. “Isn’t there a way that she survived?” he asked on of the firefighter who knew you. The firefighter had tears in his eyes “oh I’m sorry didn’t you see the explosion?” he asked Sebastian sarcastically and angry. “there is no way anyone would have survived an explosion like that! So no!” he screamed at Sebastian.

Sebastian looked at the hotel what was now fully covered in flames. “hey someone is over there!” one of the officers yelled. Everyone looked at the alley. They saw you stumble to them. “oh my god, she’s alive” Tom said in disbelieve. The firefighters came running towards you as well Tom, Sebastian and Chris.

Your Pov

When you knew people saw you for help you fell to the ground. One of the firefighters you knew took off his helmed. “hey kid, you’re okay. We’re gonna get you some help okay? You need to keep holding on okay?” he said and you nodded. Tears were streaming down your face. He called for the medics. You saw Chris, Tom and Sebastian running towards you. Tom on one side and Sebastian on the other as they held your hand. Tom wiped away his tears only to be replaced with new ones. “hey darling, just hold on okay? We’re not going to leave your side. we’re here now.” Tom said. You felt yourself get tired as you saw the medics running towards you. “doll please stay awake” Sebastian begged you as his hand cupped your face. “we need you, please Y/N” Chris said but everything went black.

You heard beeping and a pang of pain through your body. You groaned and you felt someone holding your hand tighter. “Y/N, doll?” you could pick that voice out of millions. “Seba?” you asked but more said. You slowly opened your eyes and the first thing you saw was his face. He smiled at you and cupped your face. “my god Y/N, we thought we lost you. Please don’t ever do that again okay?” you smiled sadly and just nodded. Tom walked in and saw you were awake. “oh love,” he said walking faster towards you. “how are you feeling?” he asked you “I’m in a lot of pain” you told him. he kissed the top of your head. “did you call the nurses yet?” he asked Sebastian. “I’m going to do that now” he said and made his way towards the nurses.

“your going to be okay, love. We’re going to take care of you okay? No need to worry. We love you so much” he told you as his thumb caressed your cheek. Chris made his way in as well and told you the same Tom told you. They told what kind of injuries you head and how to treat them but for now you needed rest and meds. You could go home in two days if everything went alright. The boys never left your side. one day Tom stayed with you and in the night Sebastian was there and in the morning Chris. They all took turns to take care of you. It was night time and Sebastian swayed in.

“hello gorgeous” he said with a smirk what made you blush a little. He had a basket with stuff with him. he held up his computer up. “Netflix. You can choose” you giggled a little. Are you sure about that Stan? He smirked “everything for my favorite lady” he said with a wink which made you blush and roll your eyes. he said down in the chair and gave you the computer. You searched through the movies. You saw bridget jones diary and you looked at Sebastian. He rolled his eyes “really?” he asked and you just smirked “you said I could choose” he groaned a little put he actually didn’t mind at all but he wouldn’t admit it. “fine but you don’t tell the others!” you grinned. You played the movie and he watched you more than the movie. “Seba, you’re staring at me for the past 10 minutes now” you said. He cleared his throat. “I’m sorry” he said softly. You looked at him. “Can you lay next to me?” he looked at you kind off surprised, “of course darling” he said sweetly. You moved a little bit and groaned of the pain which made him look up fast. “it’s okay, I’m okay” you told him. he just nodded and crawled careful in the hospital bed with you. He put his arm behind your head so you can rest on his shoulder. You carefully moved so you could cuddle with Sebastian. At first he didn’t know how to behave but he couldn’t deny he loved this. He started to play with your hair and you both watched the movie until you fell asleep.

When you woke up you were still in Sebastian’s arms. He was still asleep and Chris walked in with flowers. He was surprised to see you and Sebastian like that but he just smiled and winked at you. “how are you feeling today sweetheart” he asked you “not much better but I believe that’s going to take a while. And to be honest with you, I’m scared” you told Chris honestly while he looked concerned at you. “I get scared by every hard noise I hear. I see the men in my dreams, I have nightmares and my anxiety….. it’s just hard” you told him truthfully while trying to hold back the tears but failing miserably. Sebastian woke up and heard what you told Chris. He softly went with his hand through your hair to calm you down a bit. Tom came in as well as he heard everything. “we will never let anything happen to you again Y/N. I promise that” he stood up and wiped the tears away and gave you a kiss on the top of your head.

When Sebastian and Chris left Tom started to read to you. Your anxiety got worse through the day as you started to get a panic attack. You couldn’t contain and control your breath. Tom called the nurses and gave you some calming meds. “I’ll get you some chamomile tea, sweetheart” one of the nurses said. Tom held your hand and gave kisses on top of your hand. He talked to you and started to tell you some funny stories. It helped you and you started to laugh again when you got calmer.

After two day’s you were allowed to go home. Chris helped you get out of bed and gave you the crutches. When you got outside there was paparazzi everywhere and they wanted to know your story. You just looked down as panic started to rise again. You looked at Chris a little panicky. Security made way through the people to get you too your car safely. You saw the firefighters helping all of a sudden. When you were all out of the way from people one of the firefighters walked towards you. “Hey kid” he smiled at you. “hey” you said with a smirk. “you’re a hero you know that? You helped people out of that building. If you didn’t they wouldn’t have survived that. You always surprise me Y/L/N.” you started to blush. But his face turned seriously. “But don’t you dare to ever do something like that again. When something happens you get out, you hear me?” you knew he would give you shit someday. “can’t do that. I learned from the best ya know” you told him. he gave you a smile and hugged you “I know. I’m sorry. We just love you very much” you nodded “I love you too” and with that you made your way to the set where they were filming the avengers.

The trailers of the boys were there and they decided that you would stay there with them. The trailers were big enough and RDJ already proposed that if you wanted to get a bath you could in his trailer. You decided to stay with Sebastian but you couldn’t help to feel guilty but the boys would quickly change your mind on that. They really insisted on it. When you arrived on set the whole crew was standing there and they were all clapping for you. They all gave you hugs and told you sweet things Scarlett told you that if you got tired from the boys ,like she sometimes got, you would have a girls night. You told her that you loved that idea. Tom got some of your stuff. While Sebastian helped you lay down on the comfortable couch. there was a big screen in front of you. This trailer made you feel like you were living in a trailer. It was very luxuries. Chris got you something to drink.

It made your heart warm up from all the love and care you received. You couldn’t wish for better friends. It started to get late. They all gave you the tv remote. You decided on Y/F/M ( your favorite movie). They didn’t even groaned at your choice. The couch was a sort of bed. Like you could pull it out and then you would have a bed. But it wasn’t like a bed for two persons it was like a huge couch so you laid against Sebastian and Tom at the same time and now and then Chris and Tom would switch around when the other would get some drinks. After that they would bicker because the other person stole their place and would be cuddled up against you. It made you smile and giggle every time. You believed that they would do it on purpose just so they would see you laugh. Sebastian would just play with your hair as he held you close and smile when you did and just looked at you with love in his eyes and would place kisses on your head.

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bookishofalder · 4 years ago

Text

Night Changes [Four]

Summary: Desire and darkness consume Poe and the reader, leaving them with only one goal. In the aftermath, years of pain and grief finally surface.

Warnings: 18+ Sex Pollen=dubcon/noncon smut. Dark themes, mild violence/injury descriptions, language, angst, fluff. WC: 10,551

A/N: SURPRISE! One day early because I love you all and got my shit together this week. PLEASE NOTE the red banners are visual cuts you can use to skip the dark smut should you prefer to!

Poe stood next to Charlie on the tarmac, waiting impatiently with his stomach in knots of excitement and anticipation. Even Charlie was shifting from foot to foot, uncharacteristically quiet while watching the transport ship slowly landing. When it hit the ground and the flight intake crew moved forward to help with debarking, he tossed Poe his signature grin.

“Ready, Flyboy?”

Poe laughed, “What does that even mean?” He glanced down at his shirt, straightening it for the tenth time before smoothing his hair carefully. “It’s been two years, I’d have gone to pick her up myself if they would have let me.”

“That’s my point,” His friend replied smoothly, raising a brow at Poe, who gazed back at his best friend, bewildered. “Two years apart, barely been able to speak with her, you keep her picture in your inner pocket here,” He tapped Poe over the heart, where the picture would be if he was in his flight suit, “You two are the most clueless lovebirds, I swear. Don’t hold back on my account.”

Glancing at the ship to see the ramp still hadn't lowered, Poe frowned, a rush of emotions swirling within. “You...uh, knew how I-?”

Charlie clapped Poe on the shoulder, “Isn’t there a term for it? Soulmates, I think. Yeah.”

“Charlie, I don’t think-“

Charlie rolled his eyes, “I’m not saying anything else about it, don’t worry. Just wanted you to know I understand why you took so long picking the perfect shade of sand shirt to wear under your jacket.”

Poe hummed in response, stunned by the casual way his friend spoke like everything was inevitable. He wasn’t so sure, though he’d always thought the term ‘soulmate’ could apply to platonic relationships. And while he was pretty sure he’d never just felt platonic toward you in any sense, Poe wasn’t going to get his hopes up that you actually may return his feelings.

Two years ago, Poe had held you the entire night before his and Charlie’s departure for D’Qar, cried along with you over how impossible it felt to part, to not see each other every day when his life had been wrapped around yours since as long as he could remember. He had left a part of himself there with you on Yavin-4, and now you were about to disembark your transport ship and unknowingly hand it back to him by simply being with him, real and tangible.

He was nervous to see you, he didn’t know why. Maybe Charlie’s words were only highlighting Poe’s own concerns now that you were mere moments away. He had barely even been able to get in contact with you for two years, he and Charlie were far enough away and regularly over-worked that it was impossible to do as much as they both would have liked. What if you climbed off of this ship as a completely different person? Perhaps things wouldn’t be as easy and natural between you both now, after so long apart.

He’d gotten through these past two years without you knowing he would always have his memories of you, that before he knew it you would be with him-and Charlie-again, and new memories could be made. Maybe you didn’t feel the same. Regardless, the last thing Poe was going to do when he finally had you back was confessing his feelings and risk fucking everything up straight off the cuff. He’d lived with these feelings for a long time, he could continue to do so now.

Lost in his thoughts, Charlie suddenly stood taller next to Poe, who glanced at his friend to find he was beaming toward the transport ship. Following his gaze, he first saw that the ramp was down and many of the passengers were now splitting away meeting friends and family. It only took him a moment from then to locate you.

The moment his eyes landed on you, excitedly bouncing down the ramp with a duffel bag over your shoulder, eyes searching wildly around, Poe felt every single worry melt, and a heavyweight on his shoulders seemed to lift away. You still looked like you, and stars were you ever beautiful, the loveliest woman-because, you were a woman now, not a kid, not a goofy teenager-he’d ever laid eyes on. He drank you in, during those moments you hadn’t yet spotted Charlie’s waving arm. Two years had given your curves a new classification, a reverence within Poe rising as he gazed briefly in surprise at the swell of your breasts, the fullness in your hips.

He could...drop to the ground right here and declare his undying love for you, just for coming back to him with that same fucking perfect smile. Just for the way your eyes finally found him and Charlie and you lit up like a sun, bathing everyone lucky enough to be within your presence in your warm glow. It was a fucking sight, a moment that he would never forget; you grinning and then hurrying forward through the crowd. Your duffel bag hit the ground just seconds before you were throwing yourself toward your brother and Poe, who each expected exactly what you would do and easily stepped forward and caught you. Crushing you between them in an embrace that felt so whole, so entirely right. Poe felt for the first time in two years as though he were home.

Wherever in the galaxy Poe went, if he had you with him it would be home.

“Oh stars, kriffing STARS,” You were squealing, an arm wrapped behind each of their necks to hold yourself up, your lips peppering warm kisses between them each, “I’ve missed you both so much, my best guys!” You had a few happy tears on your cheeks now, Poe noticed when you leant your head to his and pressed your forehead to his own, repeating the affectionate greeting with Charlie.

“Kid, fuck it’s good to see you,” Charlie’s voice was thick with emotion, but his eyes were much drier than both yours and Poe’s. “How was the trip?”

“Maker, Charlie, Poe-you’re both so tall!” You laughed, realizing you were dangling a few inches above the ground as they held on to you. Poe liked the way he could feel your laughter as your body moved against him; as though you were passing it to him. “The trip was fine, crap food but I had a nice elder lady as my seat-mate. Reminded me of mum.”

They set you down, though Charlie was stroking your hair out of your face and Poe kept his hand on your waist, unable to let you go and lose the sensation of you finally, finally in his arms again. He never wanted to be apart from you for that long again, not if he could help it.

“I’m sorry we couldn’t make it home for mum’s funeral,” Charlie murmured, an apology he’d repeated many times since your mother’s passing a few months prior.

“Hey,” You smiled sadly, “You two spent a lot of credits to holo-call in for it, that meant a lot to me. You know mum would have been livid if you’d abandoned your duties just for her.” Still, a few more tears slipped down your cheeks and Poe reached up with his free hand to gently wipe them away as Charlie nodded solemnly, opening his mouth to respond when-

“Horn! Hey, come meet my brother!” The three of you glanced around, Poe recognizing one of the mechanics Charlie was friendly with waving him over. Pressing a quick kiss to your temple and assuring you he’d be right back, Charlie hurried away to greet the mechanic and his brother.

When you turned to peer back up at Poe, your grin wide and eyes seemingly doing their own assessment of him, he realized that this was now the first time you’d been alone together since that night two years ago. Feeling his face flush, Poe tugged you close against him and pressed his lips to the top of your head. You certainly hadn’t gotten any taller yourself, now especially small in his embrace. Something about the realization settled warm in his belly, but he pushed the thoughts away.

“Missed you so much, sweetheart,” He whispered, pulling back slightly to look down into your eyes again. Your expression was a little shy, as though you were pleasantly caught off guard by his affection, “How have you been, really?”

You had your hands pressed against his chest as you smiled up at him. “Good, glad to be here finally. Yavin-4 didn’t feel like home anymore after mum,” You trailed off, eyes falling and brightening somewhat as you gazed at his chest. “Poe, you got uh,” You slide your hands across the expanse of him and Poe had to work to keep himself from gasping at the sensation of it as heat coiled within him, “Like, big? Broad. Wow, oh and less scruffy, too!” You added, eyes swinging back up to his clean-shaven jawline.

Poe made a noise of embarrassment at your words, smiling at you shyly. Reaching up with one hand, you stroked along his jaw one, two, three times. Dousing fuel on the fire within him, the motion was so second nature, intimate, comforting, that he really could have gathered you in his arms right there and pressed his lips to yours. He wanted to ask you if you realized how much he fucking loved you, if you had any idea what you did to him, body and soul and mind consumed and controlled by you and only ever you.

Instead, taking a deep breath, Poe shifted himself away from you casually, leaning at the same time to bring his head level to yours, his nose scrunched, “And you are exactly as short as I remember. Actually, might be shorter with my extra couple of inches now.”

“Rude,” You laughed, playfully smacking his shoulder, whatever tension that had just been present now gone. Your eyes strayed away from Poe’s to look all around at what you could see of the Rebel base here on the tarmac, your gaze landing almost hungrily on a nearby x-wing before jumping to watch as several flew overhead; the current patrol.

He watched you in adoration as you drank in your first real glimpse of the Resistance, your eyes widened in wonder and excitement that Poe had felt too the moment he’d arrived on D’Qar.

But in truth, it didn’t compare to what he was feeling right now.

Poe reached up and stroked your cheek, “Welcome home, (y/n).”

MISSION DAY SIX - ABOARD CRUISER

“Commander.” You stepped out of the cockpit, your hands twisting in front of you nervously. Poe looked up from where he sat on the bottom bunk. “We’re safely in hyperspace. Autopilot engaged.” You kept your voice soft, as if afraid he would startle.

Or maybe you were afraid of him now. He wouldn’t blame you.

Rather than replying, Poe simply made a noise that was meant to be confirmation he had heard you but it came out strangled enough that it sounded like he was in pain. And he was in agony but he was trying to hold it all back, figure out how to forget.

Did there exist a plant that could make him fucking forget?

He watched as your face twisted before you dropped to your knees in front of him, his body stiffening when you pushed between his legs. Your hands came to rest gently on his cheeks as Poe met your eyes, their expression mirroring his own; pain, regret. But there was something more there, though it hurt him to see it: concern.

“Poe,” Your voice was soft and Poe felt himself tremble in response, unwilling to accept your kindness. “Please, Poe. You didn’t do anything wro-“

Poe jerked himself out of your hold, leaning back as you remained crouched before him, your hands falling to his thighs to keep steady. “Didn’t do anything wrong?” He breathed, watching you look up at him. “I keep hurting you. All I do is hurt you, (y/n). Don’t tell me everything is okay.”

MISSION DAY FOUR

Desire.

It was...the only thing you could feel anymore. All there was. Nothing else in your mind, like it had been scraped of every memory, every morsel of you and the only thing that remained was this burning, intense thirst. It was fucking incredible, there was no pain anymore, the heat felt like it belonged, that you were designed for the sole purpose of allowing it to burn you. When you set your gaze to the man before you, you could see that he was burning too.

Poe, with his dark eyes and heaving chest, moved quickly-almost too quickly, and you wondered if the pollen gave humans a physical boost. It would make sense because when he was suddenly lifting you and thrusting you against the stone wall, you didn’t feel it. There was only pleasure, no pain, no disorientation, but fuck the feel of his hands finally on you was exactly what you needed. The relief of his touch was enough to have you craving more, more now, now!

As if reading your mind, he was swiftly peeling your layers of gear off, ripping and tossing the material, tugging off your boots, one hand holding you against the wall and it wasn’t until he was sliding your pants down that you realized you were dangling a few feet above the ground. So there was definitely some juice to the pollen. Something about that realization made your toes curl in anticipation.

“Please, please fuck me, I can’t wait another minute,” You heard yourself begging, and dark Poe smirked, pulling his clothing off before adjusting his grip on you. Now, his hand slid down to roughly hold your ass, pressing his body against yours so closely you were supported between him and the wall. You wrapped your legs around his hips, moaning at the feel of his erection pressed into your thigh, and you glanced down to watch as he lined himself up with your cunt.

And stars, he was huge, the biggest you’d ever had. Thick and veiny, you let out the filthiest moan just looking at his cock, your sounds morphing into screams when he tilted his hips and thrust into you completely in one swift motion. Filling you. Growling as he claimed you entirely.

It should have hurt. Even with how wet you were, being split open and filled so brutally should be agonizing but it felt amazing. You could hear yourself demanding he never stops once he began a fast, harsh pace. Your head knocked back into the wall and you still felt no discomfort, not with dark Poe surrounding you, filling you so perfectly. One of his hands did shoot up and grip your jaw, pressing your head into the wall so that you couldn’t look anywhere but at him.

He was feral, his expression greedy and dangerous and it only made you clench around him. “Fuck,” He groaned both hands tightening their hold on your hip and face, “G-going to fucking ruin you for any other cock, little girl. Fucking brat, always so mean, and now you’re begging for me to fill you up, aren’t you?”

You were delirious with pleasure, his words shot straight to your pussy, but you still managed to reply. “Want you to...fill me up, use me, just n-never stop fucking me.” He growled at your words and pressed his lips to yours, his hand on your jaw forcing your mouth to open so that he could lick into you, taste you and swallow your whimpers and moans for more. After a few minutes of this pace, you felt the coil you hadn’t realize was tightening suddenly snap, and you gushed all over his cock as you had your first orgasm.

“Oh maker, I’m cumming, fuck!” But even as you came, crashing through wave after wave, dark Poe didn’t let up and you didn’t feel even remotely spent. An orgasm of that magnitude should have had you passing out; instead, you screamed for more.

Poe couldn’t get enough of your body, tight pussy clenched around him as he took you in every position. He didn’t feel tired, sore, and despite having already filled you several times with his seed, his erection hadn’t worn off. You allowed him to roughly handle you into whatever pose he felt like, though you would curse if he took too long, and then mewl when he’d enter you again and begin harshly pounding you. Those dark eyes of yours always focused on him, taunting him. Begging him to claim you.

He was behind you on the floor now, one hand gripping your hip and the other pressed into your lower back, forcing you to arch for him. You were screaming for more even as he relentlessly slammed into you and he only grinned at the idea of giving you what you wanted. He smacked your ass to punctuate every other word, “So fucking tight! Such a good little slut, taking all my cum, you want more now?” He slapped you one last time as his hips slowed, his orgasm tearing through him and pulling another from you and he cursed aloud at how fucking good it felt when you squeezed his cock during your high.

“More, fuck, more!” You whined moments later, even as his forward thrusts forced out the excessive amount of cum he’d filled you with. It was hot, the visual alone enough to hold his attention as you wiggled against him and begged.

“Good little slut, taking me so well,” He moaned, leaning over your back and nipping marks into your neck. When he rose back up, he pulled you with him so that you were flush against his chest as he picked up the pace again. The new angle seemed to hit something inside you differently, as your renewed screams were filling the room within seconds. “Such a perfect body, look at these tits.” He whispered into your ear, one hand cupping your breast and pinching your nipple.

You came again, drenching his cock and before you even stopped moaning from the high you were asking for more.

And fuck, he was going to give you more.

Hours, it had definitely been hours. At least six, you thought, if the light from filtering from the hall was anything to go by. The sun was different on this planet, never fully setting, so from your best knowledge you guessed Poe and you had been fucking for a good six hours, minimum.

It wasn’t enough. You hoped it never stopped. Maybe it wouldn’t.

It still didn’t hurt. Each orgasm wasn’t yet enough. You could see rather than feel the bruises on your skin, the cuts on your knees and hands from the rough ground. Even when Poe spanked you, the bite was momentary and delicious. This high was simply incredible. The sensation of him coating your insides with thick ropes of cum was forever engrained in your mind now.

You were riding him now; had been for the last few orgasms. He liked letting you do the work even though it didn’t feel like work-and watched as you rolled your hips and bounced for him, his hands occasionally reaching up to play with your tits. When he would come, he would grab your hips and slam you down, his strength preventing you from moving as he filled you deep, usually pulling your orgasm along with him because he was just so fucking sexy groaning for you.

“Like riding me, little girl?” He growled, releasing your hips and allowing you to start moving again. This time, you braced your hands on his chest so that you could change the angle, moaning when his thick cock dragged along your walls in the most perfect way. Kriff.

“Love it, never stopping,” You gasped, the room loud with the noises you each made and the sounds your cum stuffed pussy made each time he entered you. “Fuck, so fucking good.”

You sunk yourself onto his cock for a long time, watching his face as he filled you over and over, and still, it wasn’t enough.

Was it ever going to be enough?

Poe could see you were cock drunk, your grasp on Basic slipping to the point where you simply whimpered out short phrases, some of them entirely unintelligible. It was incredible, seeing you bent over the table, stuffed full of his cock and unable to articulate properly how good it felt.

“Oh fuck, here you go, take my cum,” He snapped his hips forwards and came, his grip on your hips like steel, holding you in place to take every last drop. You came moments later, your orgasm soaking him and dragging his out again. After just a moment, he readjusted you, lifting one of your legs onto the table and holding it there, his other hand sliding up your back and pressing to the back of your neck, pinning you.

“Oh, fuck, fuck!” You screamed when he started up again. He smirked, enjoying the sound of his body slapping against yours. From the way he held you, Poe had his wrist comm directly in his line of sight. After a moment, he registered the time on the display and realized that you’d been fucking for twelve hours, give or take. Twelve hours.

“Fuck, been fucking you all day little girl, filling you with my cum for fucking hours and hours,” He groaned, pressing you into the table even more. You whimpered in response, unable to speak. “Yeah, you love it, don’t you? Want more, come on I know you can speak, tell me you want my cum.”

“Uh, fuck I w-want, want your c-cum, please!”

“Yeah you do, fucking slut,” He picked up the pace again, then shot over the edge as you screamed, “Take my cum, take it, fuck.” Poe growled, still amazed at how tight you were, milking his cock perfectly every time. Once his orgasm subsided, he flipped you over onto your back and took a moment to gaze down at you.

Your black eyes were staring up at him hungrily, waiting for him to decide his next move. When you licked your lips, an idea popped into his head. He reached down and spun you so your head was at the edge of the table, your legs pointing away from him. He moved you so that your head just dangled over the edge, and then he pushed his fingers into your mouth, wetting them.

“Gonna put my cock down your throat, think you can handle that?” He said, grunting when your lips wrapped around his fingers and sucked a little. He was quick to replace them with his cock, one hand moving to hold under your head and the other guiding his length into your eager little mouth. “Fuck, yes.” He moaned, quickly setting a steady pace.

Once he had a rhythm going, Poe used the hand not supporting your head to place one of yours behind that one, “Tap, fucking hell yes, t-tap my hand if you need air, ah shit!” He just managed to give you the instructions before the overwhelming feeling of your mouth working on him so expertly had his balls pulling up and before he knew it, he was shooting his load down your throat.

You swallowed everything and then continued sucking him off as he fucked your face.

Thirteen hours.

He tasted delicious. You’d almost wished, when he shot that first load down your throat, that he’d started things out this way so that the taste of him was on your tongue the whole time. You made up for it by taking as much as you could, swallowing around his length as you pulled orgasm after orgasm from him.

Eventually, you were moaning around him enough that he realized it had been a while since you’d cum, and he pulled from your mouth. His dark gaze searched your cum covered face greedily before he climbed onto the table, pulling you up to lift you over his cock. He lowered you slowly onto him, the stretch exactly what you needed and so perfect that the moment you were fully seated you came, jerking in his arms.

You were in his lap, your legs wrapped around his back, and you briefly thought of how this was the most intimate position yet. Your chests pressed together, and he was expertly moving you in his lap, helping you to ride him.

His face was a breath away. You closed the gap.

He groaned when your mouth opened for him, letting his tongue taste the mixture of you and his spend. You squeezed his cock harder, you were so turned on, and it only took a few more rolls of your hips to feel yourself come undone again.

Your head felt heavy, so you let it fall into the crook of his neck, nuzzling.

“Oh yeah, so fucking good,” You whimpered, your arms around him, “Oh, Poe don’t stop!”

Poe.

Your Poe.

This is how...this is how he would have liked to be with you the first time, how he pictured it when he was younger. You straddling his lap, wrapped around each other as you rolled your hips and he pulled the most delicious sounds from you with his deep thrusts. It was intimate, the position allowing him to move between kissing you, holding you, licking your breasts, ensuring you were enjoying it as much as him.

He could whisper sweet nothings into your ear this way, tell you he loved you and that he’d take care of you. And you would have liked it too, he knew, because you liked watching his face, reading his expressions every day and he knew that would have translated over to making love.

But this-this wasn’t making love, was it?

You had dropped your head down as you came again, your body curling into his as though for safety, comfort.

“Oh, Poe, don’t stop!”

He was going to cum again, the sound of his name on your lips for the first time hurling him over the edge, “Sweetheart, oh fuck, (y/n)!” He pressed your body into his and dropped his head to your neck, where he peppered it with gentle kisses as he spilled inside of you.

You both slowed your movements after coming down from your highs this time.

Poe felt himself panting, out of breath. You were panting too.

But why...why was he on the table? Poe leaned back slightly and you raised your head at his movement, your eyes meeting his. They weren’t as dark as before, but you looked tired. Poe felt tired, exhausted really.

You were still moving your hips, almost as if on autopilot. But you were frowning at Poe as you did, and then you winced. He froze, watching as you looked down at yourself, his eyes following yours.

“No...” He heard himself whisper in dawning horror. You were covered in marks; bruises or bites, hickies, red welts from places that looked like they’d been slapped.

They had been slapped. He had slapped you.

Poe felt himself softening inside you, a pain in his back and knees, his chest smarting as well. He glanced down and saw track marks from your nails down his chest. He didn’t even remember you doing that, it hadn’t hurt at the time. You whimpered, this time in pain and he looked back up into your eyes. They weren’t dark anymore. You were crying.

“Sweetheart-“ Poe faltered, shaking his head and trying to clear the clinging fog. You shifted a little and he slipped from inside of you. Both you and Poe groaned at the sensation, and you quivered as the mixture of fluids spilled out from inside you. “I-what happened...what did I do?”

Poe was sobbing now too.

It took some time to regain enough strength to move from the table, without the boost the pollen had provided you were both spent and every tired, aching muscle, bruise and bite mark or scratch could be fully felt now. Poe recovered first, easing himself to his feet and searching for the packs you’d each dropped when things...went dark.

You were panting on the table still, in much worse shape than he was and the rising panic inside of Poe was giving him the energy he needed to get to the medkits. He pushed through the pain in his limbs, thirst in his mouth and throbbing in his head-none of it mattered right now, not when you were suffering. He glanced at his wrist comm as he unzipped the medkit and realized, with horror, that it had been fourteen hours. Fourteen hours of brutal, relentless, rough sex.

The plant hadn’t just taken away inhibitions, hadn’t made it impossible to resist one another, no it had obliterated both of you-pushed you both into the far recesses of your minds and forced you to watch as its pollen turned you into feral, angry animals with exactly one goal.

And it stole from you both, stole your consent, your right to chose, abilities to control the urges that were twisted by its potency. Warped into selfish desire, the need for release and control, as if it was some archaic mating ritual-mark, consume, dominate. It wasn’t real, none of it had been, each of you losing yourselves in a hopeless battle against the strength of the pollen. And Poe...he had been violent, mean, brutal. It wasn’t that you hadn’t been, but it was the unavoidable reality that he was much bigger and stronger, the boost of the pollen making it easy to manhandle you.

He would never forgive himself for harming you. For the things he said, the marks left all over your body. If he could have died instead, fought against the pollen and let whatever happened in that case happen, he would have. Ten times over, he would have.

Just like Charlie, he would have sacrificed himself in an instant to protect you.

But you had refused to run and told Poe that you didn’t want to die. At that moment, right as he was coiled to try and run from you, he realized that you could die too. There was no medical backup, no nearby crew to call for help. It was Poe and you and the bacta shots that would have been completely ineffective with the pollen pulsing through your systems. He had to give in, and the darkness had taken him over the moment he accepted it.

He remembers fleetingly thinking of all the times in his life he had let himself think of being with you intimately. Usually guilt-ridden, he pushed the thoughts away; as a teenager, he failed half the time, and as an adult, he tried to refocus on other women, but they never measured up. When his imagination did get the better of him, it was always, always tender. Soft, slow, sensual. Just the very idea of being the one pulling moans from your lips and taking care of you would send him over the edge.

But that wasn’t what happened here. It wasn’t a light high that lowered inhibitions and made the sex last longer, feel more intense. No, this was a sinister plant so potent it drove away each of your humanity and respect for one another, pulling pleasure for yourselves instead of giving it to one another.

It was cold and harsh, and Poe was devastated.

You whimpered suddenly, pulling him from his thoughts, his head shooting up to look toward where you were laying on the table. “Sweetheart?” He stood the medkit in hand and tried to swallow back his sobs as he moved toward you.

“S’okay,” You groaned, eyes pressed tightly shut, “Find the bacta?”

“Yes, I-“ Poe faltered as he stood at the edge of the table, his hands holding the bacta shot he’d pulled out. “Can I touch you, or do you want to try and-?“

“Poe,” You mumbled tiredly, “I’m okay, please just give me the shot.” You attempted to roll yourself to your side and expose your buttocks for him but only ended up sobbing in pain again.

Flinching, Poe reached out and gently, so incredibly carefully, helped you to twist your hips. He heard himself whispering words of comfort but focused on opening the shot and lining it up. When he plunged the needle into you and pressed down on the plunger, you let out a weak but relieved little moan. “You’re okay sweetheart, I’m here, I’ll take care of you.” He promised, tossing aside the bacta shot and brushing his fingers over your face comfortingly.

His shattered heart beat hopefully when you reached up and took hold of his hand, squeezing.

Poe was watching you race Charlie up an older tree, his strength no match for your agility as the smaller sibling. It was a lazy day, hot enough to warrant a day by the river-which was what most of the kids in their town on Yavin-4 had been thinking, it seemed. The banks of the river were piled with kids and teens as far as he could see, though thankfully the prestige of the Horn and Dameron families left your favourite spot along the water relatively free of unwanted guests.

A few friends were nearby, giving Poe his space as he sat leaning against a boulder. A book sat open in his lap, though he’d been distracted many times now thanks to his inability to control his thoughts around you. His father had assured Poe that it was natural at seventeen to have a wandering mind, a surge of hormones, he’d horrifyingly explained. He advised that should the thoughts and feelings become too intense, that Poe needed to take a few breaths, refocus elsewhere, remind himself of the person that deserved his respect and not his wayward thoughts.

But Poe didn’t have these thoughts or feelings or whatever the fuck about anyone but you. It had always been you, and though so far he’d managed to hide his emotional and physical feelings from your notice, it alarmed him in moments like this. When you revealed much more skin than usual in a simple water suit, hair and sun-kissed skin damp from the water, he worried he might slip up. He was as ashamed of the direction his thoughts would go in as he was sure that you would, for the rest of his life, be the only one he ever truly admired so ardently, loved so deeply that he fought to refuse to disrespect you with his hormone fuelled thoughts.

You gave a whoop when you reached the highest point the tree would allow, its trunk and branches thinning enough to make it unsafe to climb any further beyond. A friend of yours, Tahla, and a few of his buddies were nearby in the water, laughing and teasing you from below and jokingly daring you and Charlie to jump. It wouldn’t have been unsafe to do, so instead, you both laughed and began the slow climb down.

You were moving much more slowly than Charlie now, out of breath from the race and taking care not to scratch yourself. Your brother hit the ground, tossed Poe a smirk, then barrelled into the water to cool off. Poe rolled his eyes, laughing as Charlie started picking up some of the smaller guys and tossing them into the water. A game fondly, yet unofficially, referred to as tempting the bull.

Poe adjusted himself against the rock, trying to get comfortable but he felt warm enough now that he thought he should get in the water as soon as Charlie wore himself out enough not to be a threat. You were still a good way up the tree, now slowed even further as you had a conversation with one of Tahla’s friends that had come out of the water to chat with you. Frowning to himself, Poe watched as you continued a friendly banter and felt the clutches of envy reaching for him.

This seemed like a good enough excuse to close his eyes and take one of those deep breaths his father advised. First standing, Poe tugged off his shirt so that he could make his way to the water, then allowed his eyes to flutter shut. Taking half a breath in until the sound of a branch snapping and your scream halted him in his tracks. Poe’s eyes snapped open and then he was frantically running, too far away to do anything as you lost your grip and fell, slamming into the ground on your side and letting out a pained wail.

Poe briefly met Charlie’s wide eyes as they both ran for you from different directions. Panic reflected there, but Poe got to you first and his eyes moved to you. Annoyingly, the blonde who had been speaking to you-distracting you-was knelt over you and worriedly checking you over.

Poe pushed him away from you, “Don’t touch her,” He heard himself snarl, taking a threatening step toward the kid, who raised his hands in surrender, “Get the fuck-“

“Poe,” He halted in his tracks and spun at the sound of your tiny voice, his anger waning the moment he saw you clutching awkwardly at your arm, Charlie knelt beside you. It was like you hadn’t even noticed your brother, though, your eyes only on Poe, surprisingly intense as you stopped him from chasing down Tahla’s idiot friend. “I-I think my arm is b-broken.” You sniffled, eyes streaming, and flinched as some of the tears ran through the scratches on your cheek.

“Oh sweetheart,” He was kneeling in front of you seconds later, inspecting you all over for any more injuries, thankful when your head appeared to be free of any bleeding. He looked to Charlie, who read his thoughts instantly.

“Kid, I’ll run ahead and let the Healer’s know what happened, flyboy’s got you.” Charlie kissed the top of your head and ran off at full speed.

You let out another sob, this time revealing to Poe that your pride was as injured as your arm. He leaned down and pressed his forehead to yours, “You’re okay, sweetheart. I’m here, I’ll take care of you.” And with great care, he slid one arm under your legs, the other bracing your back, lifting you as he stood.

He carried you with great caution, moving a little slower than he’d prefer but, since you were still flushed and awake he figured jostling you too much would cause more damage than taking his time getting you to the healer.

“Were you gonna punch Raine, Poe?” You asked, still holding your arm carefully.

Poe grimaced, “He distracted you, should have waited till you were on the ground to bug you.” He replied tightly, not meeting your gaze as he didn’t want you to see in his expression how upset he was.

You sensed it, though, your good hand reaching up to stroke his jaw one, two, three times in a successful effort to soothe him.

“Raine isn’t all that distracting.” You murmured after a minute. Poe had to bite back a pleased smile, a little guilt bubbling up as a rogue thought tumbled in the back of his head that perhaps you had been looking at someone else when you became distracted.

Poe was a stubborn fucking man, this was something you’d always been keenly aware of, but at this moment you wanted to throttle him for it. You didn’t have the emotional energy to deal with him, though the bacta shot he’d given you had you feeling physically wonderful, it did nothing to help your mind.

And you were so weary, all you wanted to do was sleep but his refusal to receive his bacta shot was preventing that from happening. You just needed to close your eyes for a few hours and let your brain process everything that had happened.

“Poe, there’s no reason for you to say no to the shot. You know I have to do it, it’s my directive-“

“And as your Commander,” He cut you off, pushing the hand that held the shot away, “I’m ordering you to not follow the directive. I’m fine. Don’t need it.”

And he wouldn’t even look at you now, his eyes everywhere but yours, his expression tight. Stubborn, stupid flyboy!

You considered how to convince him, realizing the arguments you had used so far were ineffective. “Poe, I don’t know anything about this pollen.” You stepped up to stand in front of him at the table, both of you now dressed in fresh clothing, skin scrubbed with medical towelettes, though you both needed to take showers urgently. You stunk.

Poe glanced at you nervously as you came into his space, and you wanted to cry at how he looked afraid of you. Afraid to move, because he might hurt you. You could see him taking the last few years and pushing it all into this fucking day, convincing himself that he hurt you again, that it was somehow his fault.

You’d really done a number on him. Your heart filled with sorrow.

“I feel fine.”

You set the shot down on the table next to where he sat, then reached up and grabbed his face in your hands, forcing him to meet your eyes. He flinched at your touch, his body going rigid. “Poe, baby please let me do this,” His brows shot up in surprise at the sincere concern in your voice, the tenderness of your hands on his face, “If for no other reason, to at least prevent cardiac arrest or...or a relapse.” You didn’t want to say this aloud, but you knew that just because you’d been exposed to the pollen once didn’t make either of you immune to its effects. The bacta would ensure that nothing further happened while you were on the planet.

“What?” His voice was sharp, “Are you saying I could...that I might-“

You shook your head, “I’m saying I don’t know, and anything is a possibility if you don’t take the shot.”

Poe sighed heavily, his eyes closing as he gave you a small nod. Wordlessly, he stood and you dropped your hands, picking up the bacta shot as he undid his belt and pushed one side of his pants down just enough to reveal his buttocks. Wasting no time, you plunged the shot into his skin and let out a breath of relief at his sound of content. Without thinking, you placed your free hand on his lower back in comfort.

“Thank you, Poe.”

He fixed his pants and glanced at you over his shoulder, his expression painfully dejected. You wanted to hold him. Instead, he took a few measured steps across the room and stooped to pick up both of your packs, no longer meeting your eyes. You sighed.

“Let’s find somewhere to get a few hours shut-eye.” He said, leading the way out of the room.

You followed him, glancing over your shoulder at the room one last time, your heart ten times heavier than it had been before you entered it.

It didn’t take long to find a room with a few bunks, you and Poe each falling to an empty bed and falling asleep in a matter of moments. You were able to get a few hours, waking up feeling surprisingly refreshed, one of the helpful effects of the bacta shot. You were on your back and blinked up at the base of the upper bunk for a few moments, confused as to why you’d awoken. A sharp, suppressed sob pulled your attention to the bed just across from you, though Poe’s back was to you, you could see his shoulders shaking. He was crying.

It happened then, a monumental shift inside of you that was like seeing your whole life flash before your eyes. Only it was all Poe, every single moment of your life interwoven with him because he had always been there, always been absolutely everything to you. Seeing him across the room from you, trying to hide his pain again. Something in the core of your being shifted. You had to bite back a gasp as you felt several years of pent-up anger and pain begin to melt away until you were left raw, trying to reconcile how you had let your relationship with Poe get to this point, and even why you ran in the first place.

Maker, you were awful. Charlie would be ashamed of you, he loved Poe like a brother and you had been nothing but cruel these last couple of months. Another choked back sob cut through the air and you wanted to walk over to Poe and soothe his pain, assure him everything was okay. But it wasn’t, and you didn’t know how to even begin to try and repair everything between you and him, especially not after what had just happened.

But you did...you wanted your best friend back. Which meant you needed to do some serious thinking. And that couldn’t all happen right here during the mission. So you pretended to just be waking up, noisily to give him a moment to hide his tears and pushed everything else back-just for a little while longer.

Poe stilled, and out of the corner of your eye, you saw his head duck down, no doubt wiping his tears away. By the time you sat up, he was rolling over at pretending he had just woken up as well.

“Hey,” You gave him a small smile, then glanced at your wrist comm. “If we eat something and then start our search, we can be back at the ship in roughly four and a half hours.” Poe nodded in response, sitting up, and you watched him reach into one of the packs by the side of his bed. He pulled out two bottles of water and a couple of rations each, handing yours to you and carefully avoiding touching your skin as he did.

As much as you wanted to tell him you weren’t afraid of him, you knew this moment wasn’t the time to start the conversation. Instead, you ate in silence, Poe’s eyes on the floor and yours gazing at the walls, which had some basic Empire propaganda posted upon them.

After breakfast, you each suited up properly for exploring the facility and set out, wandering the halls cautiously in search of the main control room. It didn’t take too long to find, though you were held up trying to get the door to disengage. When your usual tricks didn’t work, you had to set up a charge and blow the door. You’d used these kinds of minor explosives plenty of times, retreating down the hall further than necessary as you counted down until detonation.

Surprising you, Poe suddenly spun from where he stood next to you and blocked your body protectively with his wider frame as the door was blown off of its hinges. He looked over your head, hands clenched at his sides, but he didn’t move until you leaned to look around him and confirmed it was safe to move in.

You felt as though your heart was sitting in the back of your throat now.

It was well preserved, evidently one of the first rooms to be locked up when the Empire forces abandoned this outpost. It was a treasure trove of intel and you excitedly got to work, breaking away from Poe to complete a safety sweep.

After completing a preliminary search of the room, you found the main control panel and, flipping through every piece of information you had in your brain on old technology, you started pulling it open to seek out where you could insert the data drive you’d brought. You were confident BB8 could crack through any ancient firewalls on any of the data you were able to recover. Poe was doing similar work at the stations' console across the room, working in silence but sometimes you could feel his eyes on you, looking away before you could catch his eye.

A while later and you were on your back under the console, seeking out the hidden panel that would give you access to the data bridge. It took a few minutes, but you finally found it and had to finagle it awkwardly with your nails, trying to pry the cover off. It gave a satisfying little ‘pop’ when you managed to free it.

And then it promptly fell straight onto your face.

It shot straight through your hands, the edge smacking off of the corner of your cheek before bouncing to the ground. “Fuck!” You cried, feeling the skin tear and warm blood pooling out.

Stars, you really were off your game.

Dabbing at the blood carefully with the sleeve of your shirt, you were suddenly dragged out from under the panel by your ankles. Before you could even question what was happening, Poe was leaning over you, his expression panic-stricken, only paling further when he saw the blood on your cheek.

“What happened?” His voice was frantic, hands hovering above you; it was an entirely uncharacteristic reaction for him that for a moment you could only stare up at him in surprise. “Sweetheart, what happened?”

“I’m okay,” You assured him hurriedly, sitting up onto your elbows, “Just dropped that panel on my face.” You gazed at Poe as his eyes dropped from you to the panel now laying on the ground next to you. A modicum of relief swept over his features fleetingly.

Wordlessly, he reached into your nearby pack and pulled out a bacta-spray. When his hands raised toward your face, you watched as he hesitated briefly before he touched you, one hand wrapping around the back of your head to hold you steady, the other applying the bacta-spray.

Still holding you, he dropped the spray into the pack again and pulled out a bandage. “Turn your head for me, sweetheart.” He murmured, his eyes focused on your cheek.

You did as he asked and waited as he used both hands to apply the bandage over your skin. Peering up at Poe when he finished, you were touched by his gentle care, though you understood it was coming from a place of contrition more than anything. His fingers absentmindedly brushed downward, to ensure the edges of the bandage were sealed; you shivered involuntarily at the light contact.

Poe went rigid, his eyes meeting yours briefly in surprise before you glanced away, your face flushing. “Thank you.” You murmured, remaining still until he scooted back and stood, and then you were quickly pushing yourself back under the panel.

MISSION DAY SIX - ABOARD CRUISER

You sat back on your hunches, eyes on the man in front of you as he came apart, the emotions he’d tried hiding from you since that morning now spilling out. You were holding yourself steady by gripping his thighs and could feel the way his body was as rigid as durasteel. You looked at him and reminded yourself that this was what you would do to him if you left again, that leaving things unsaid and unresolved was never the answer.

“I hurt you, over and over,” His hands came to clench at his sides, gripping into the sheets of your bunk, “I said horrible things to you, at Charlie’s funeral and then since you’ve been back, and yesterday I-I can’t even-“

“Yesterday wasn’t you, Poe, it wasn’t either of us.” You interjected softly, urging yourself to remain exceptionally calm as he came undone.

He huffed, unimpressed with your argument, “Y-you and I, we lost everything the day Charlie died. But you kept it together, organized the funeral, smiled and hugged everyone who came up to us...all I could do was stand there and be angry at y-you even though I knew it wasn’t your fault,” Poe shook his head aggressively when you opened your mouth to interrupt, “No, you know it’s true, you even said it yourself. I failed you. And then you came back and I failed you again, let us drift further apart than we’d been when you were in a different galaxy. You lost your brother, and then I lost you both and I-I’m so, fuck (y/n), I am so sorry.”

And he sobbed, a retched, heartbreaking sob that almost knocked you off of your feet, it was so real and deep. You couldn’t help the tears that poured down your cheeks in response, and you were momentarily at a loss of how to respond. How could you even begin to help take away that much pain? When you were the fucking person who caused it?

Unsure of what else to do, you slid forward and in between his legs again, your hands moving to grip his forearms. You rubbed up and down soothingly and held him harder when he tried to pull away.

“You shouldn’t be near me, not after w-what I’ve done to you.” He gasped out, failing to move out of your grasp but continuing to struggle. It was a testament to his fear of causing you harm that he simply didn’t push away, as the stronger person.

“Neither of us had any choice, Poe, we were both covered in that pollen. And,” You moved your head to catch his eye, to ensure he heard your next words, “And Poe, I was the one who tackled us into that bush, who forgot the map they studied for two days that showed that cliff. Do you blame me for what happened?”

Poe almost glared at you, stilling, “Of course I don’t blame you-“

“Then understand that I don’t blame you either, Poe, fuck.”

“(y/n),” His voice dropped, thick with emotion, “You said...right before I-you said that you didn’t want to die. When you put it like that, I knew it meant you understood what was happening but hadn’t heard of a plant this powerful and didn’t know if you could die if we didn’t...” He paused, shaking his head. He looked at you then, through tear-soaked lashes, an expression so full of sorrow you stopped breathing. “That was the only reason I stayed with you. I was fighting it, I was going to make a run for it when you wouldn’t. I wanted to run, let myself die because I could feel what the pollen was making me want to do to you and fuck, it scared me. What I did to you yesterday was horrific. Unforgivable. Everything I’ve done to you is.”

Suddenly, you were angry, his words registering in your brain like an explosion, “Shut up,” You growled, harsh enough to catch him off guard and he was peering at you in surprise, eyes searching your face in confusion. “Don’t ever, ever say-I can’t believe you...why would you want to die, Poe? What the hell is wrong with you? Do you think I could survive you dying? That I would want to live in a galaxy where you and Charlie were both gone? I left, I know, but I always knew you were at least alive!”

Poe gaped at you in shock, looking as though you had just slapped him awake, cleared the fog from his brain. Before you knew what was happening, he reached down for you and gripped your waist before dropping to his knees on the ground with you, crushing you into a tight embrace. His head dropped into the crook of your neck, and you wondered how you ever could be trusted enough for this strong, capable man to let himself become so vulnerable for you.

“Didn’t mean it,” He murmured, nuzzling your neck slightly as you instinctively run your fingers through his hair. “I promise I won’t leave...if you don’t want me to, I won’t leave you.”

You remained in Poe’s arms for some time, the silence was no longer heavy with anger but rather thick with emotion. And stars, you had forgotten what being held by Poe was like, the warmth and safety his arms had always surrounded you with. You let yourself forget; instead, you’d spent these last few years painting a picture of Poe Dameron with only the medium of his final words to you, resulting in an ugly, distorted image that served to fuel your pain, your resentment.

In doing this, you had forgotten how complex Poe was, how he acted cocky, snarky, but deep down he was a serious, earnest man with a heart of gold. He let himself feel, didn’t try to hide his emotions from you or Charlie growing up, he cried when you cried and...and fuck, the one time he messed up and let his emotions get the better of him, you fled and didn’t look back. You didn’t let him apologize, and you knew even if he had found you straight after your fight you wouldn’t have listened.

You abandoned Poe because you had been afraid, a coward if there ever was one in this situation. And you weren’t just running from the loss, you were running from feelings you didn’t understand the depth of until you lost your brother. Because there was this moment, it was so brief, fleeting, but for just one moment you had been relieved that Poe hadn’t died during the Gold team mission.

And what did that make you? Not only a coward for running but a monster for thinking it in the first place. Instead of dealing with any of your feelings, your grief, you took the easy route and fled literal constellations away, severing ties with the one man in the whole galaxy who mattered to you anymore because you were terrified of how fucking in love with him you had been, and how your brother dying was what made you realize it.

Poe had let you shower first, taking time while you were in the fresher to collect all of the items from the mission and put them in an airtight container. He didn’t want to risk any of the pollen getting onto either of you again. Once he’d done that, he put on a fresh pot of caf and was halfway through his first cup when you emerged, hair down in long, damp tendrils, wearing another of Charlie’s old shirts and some worn jersey shorts.

“Oh, maker, caf!” You groaned happily, eagerly accepting the cup he’d poured for you and taking a long swell, eyes closed. Poe watched you, his mind still reeling over everything that had occurred in the last day.

You had been acting so much like the you he remembered, the person he’d grown up with-so kind-hearted, understanding. It was overwhelming to try and process what had happened with the pollen while navigating this shift in his relationship with you. For the first time in a long time, Poe felt as though his best friend was coming back to him.

“Did you,” He paused, gauging your reaction to his voice, but you just observed him over your mug, a small smile tugging at your lips. “Did you keep a lot of Charlie’s things?” If you were upset by the question, it didn’t show. You considered his words, nodding.

“I did, at first. I left so quickly that I didn’t have time to grab anything of his...Tommy and Rico boxed everything for me and kept it stored until I was reassigned.” Your expression tightened at the memory, “I had a few weeks off, I planet hopped to some of Charlie’s favourite spots, then once I was settled in at my new assignment had everything brought over. I kept a lot of his shirts, personal effects. Just donated his pants, really.”

Poe smiled, “I guess there were some very happy big and tall men that found those pants at the shelter.” Cheesy, he cringed internally.

But you laughed, a genuine little giggle just for Poe, one he’d heard a million times before but it had been so long, emotion bubbled up within him and his smile faltered; he glanced away, hoping you wouldn’t notice his shift in mood.

“What is it?”

Poe sighed, mildly amused at your familiar behaviour. You never did let him get away with hiding things if you could help it. Rather than explain how much it meant to him to be standing there with you, laughing, he swivelled the conversation, one last thing on his mind.

“I’m going to say something, and then if you want to just close this conversation after I do, I’m good with that, okay?”

You tilted your head curiously, giving him a little nod, “Sure.”

Poe looked away from you, staring down into his mug as he considered how to phrase what he wanted to say. “I know it was the pollen, all of it,” He took a deep breath, willing his brain to make itself useful, “I still need you to hear me say this: the things I said to you during...while we were under it-I wouldn’t ever say anything like that to you, (y/n). They were mean and filthy, crude words I’ve never...would never...not that we would, I mean, shit.” He ran a hand over his face, holding over his forehead as his frustration with himself grew.

“Poe?” You said after a pause, and he glanced up. Your expression was exceptionally understanding, “The same goes for me. The scratching too wasn’t me. And,” Your lips quirked, “I think I called you Commander a few times, and please know I do not call people by their rank during sex, stars.”

Poe chuckled, “Obviously, that would be fucking embarrassing,” Your smile widened at his response. “It’s just important to me that you know I would never think or enjoy saying mean and degrading stuff like that about a woman, about you.”

You nodded and bit your lip, “I’ve always known that, Poe.” Pausing to take another deep drink of your caf, you then pointed with your free hand to your right forearm, “Also, um, I have an implant so we...that is, I’m not going to, uh...” You trailed off awkwardly.

His eyes widened in horror, realizing he hadn’t thought beyond the potential emotional consequences of what had happened. “Shit, are you sure?”

You nodded vigorously when his gaze fell to your stomach before meeting yours again, “No sex pollen babies.” Each of you looked away at the same moment, embarrassed.

After a few minutes of quiet, Poe looked back down at you. You were standing next to him, leant against the counter and staring unseeingly in front of you. “Sweetheart?”

Your eyes refocused and met his, “Y-yeah, Poe?”

He moved slowly, careful not to startle you. Using his free hand, he cupped the back of your head and lowered his own to press your foreheads together, an affectionate display you had both done since you were little. He felt you relax into it, and for a minute everything was quiet and peaceful and safe.

Poe felt like his shattered heart wasn’t in so many pieces anymore.

And then you reached up with your hand and stroked along his jaw one, two, three times. Just like that, he felt you come back to him.

Poe smiled to himself, getting lost in the feeling.

@mermaidxatxheart @foxilayde @eleinemk @paintballkid711 @mylifeisactuallyamess @20th-centu-fairy-girl @deitysnips @cannedsoupsucks @ubri812 @poedameronloverx @hoeforthefictional @astrological-bitch @itsnottilly @its-djarin

#poe dameron x reader #poe dameron x you #poe dameron #poe smut #night changes series #reader insert #poe dameron x female reader #fem reader #angst #friends to lovers #best friends #star wars x reader #star wars series #star wars #multichapter

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aerialflight · 4 years ago

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Fic Recs (mostly Naruto cause I read too many good fics in the fandom and now I'm in hell)

[Naruto]

Spirit-Touched by phooykazooi

Once upon a time, the Haruno clan were priests. It was said that they were spirit-touched, and that they walked among the downtrodden and the poor, and did not bow to royalty.

Or, an AU in which Sakura can see spirits.

Part 1 of The Realms Between

(Really, and I mean REALLY fantastic Shikamaru & Sakura friendship! Fantastic, beautiful writing, and such good worldbuilding, god, and the Haruno family is so badass!! Sakura and everything she does makes me want to scream!! Please read!)

Final Evaluation by Do_the_Cool_Whip

Progress evaluations are one-on-one consultation meetings between academy students and their teacher. Their purpose is to inform academy students of their strengths and weaknesses and guide them down their ideal path to becoming a strong shinobi. Upon graduating the academy and passing their jounin-sensei test, new genin return to the academy for one final consultation. (Or: The story of what happens when Umino Iruka uses his final meetings with his students as way to send them off to become the best shinobi they can possibly be.)

(Iruka! Is! The! Best! Teacher! Ever! End of story!!! Great interpretation of all the characters and their capabilities and I am so so excited for the sequel that will undoubtedly come! XD)

Celestial Bodies by Oceanbreeze7

Sasuke looked at the fire, eyes glowing red as the mutated corrupted seal on his throat. "Amaterasu blessed me. I see things. Like you with two normal eyes and the Hokage. And Sakura with a seal on her forehead. And I run Chidori through Naruto's heart. I keep trying to kill him. Over and over. And that knuckleheaded idiot never gives up.”

(Don't you get it? I saw it. The moon will bleed, the nations will die. The world is going to end.)

Part 1 of Celestial Bodies and Anomalies

(I swear, this fic freaking elevated my expectations on Sasuke-centric fics in general holy hell. Also, read the fucking sequel after this cause EVERYTHING GOES NUTS AND THE PLOT GOES OFF AND I'M HERE FOR THIS SHIT. Fucking Uchihas man. Also, you wouldn't think this series is funny, but it is, and it's amazing.)

A step to the left (and right off the cliff) by weavingBlue

Team Seven starts off on a different foot and Sasuke's canonical journey to get stronger goes off the rails a bit. It all works out though. Probably.

(This fic went in a direction I didn't expect and it's GLORIOUS. SO FUNNY, I honestly was dying while I was reading this. Please give this a chance!!)

promises by BombsAreForBabies

It's her first kiss and Naruto's last. She promises him that she will bring Sasuke home. It's his dying wish, after all.

(Naruto bleeds out faster than the kyuubi can heal him.

Sakura learns that being a ninja is more than fancy jutsu and fun.

Sasuke does not know that he just killed his best friend and turned his most loyal comrade into his worst enemy.)

(Listen LISTEN I know this sounds depressing but the relationship developments and slow healing is EVERYTHING and I think it's absolutely worth it to read this. Sakura's characterization is so good and Kakashi makes me want to hug him. A lot.)

Fang Under Fang by Vroomian

"Are we sure he's really an Inuzuka?"

(The answer is no.)

Someone reborn as Inuzuka Kiba not only has to deal with bullshit ninja magic, but soulmates being A Thing.

(Really good self-insert fic and its platonic soulmates, not romantic! I am always here for a good Kiba-centric fic and I won't say who the soulmate is. It's unexpected but so, so good! Trust me!)

Haunt The Lonely by Tht0neGal666

(Series where Sakura can see ghosts and the Things she gets up to due to this ability. The fics are short but man, you can already see the shifting differences in Team 7's dynamics, it's great!)

Perception by Ellie_Enchanted

Naruto can sense auras, which throws everything off it's balance. Because really, with someone as open as Naruto running around and peering into the depths of people's souls, something is bound to change. In other words, sometimes all that's needed is a push. Also, Sasuke apparently glows.

(Naruto the empath changing the plot and making it Better and I am loving it!)

Crossfire by DejaVu22

Following the events of Naruto, Uchiha Sasuke never makes it to Orochimaru's hideout. Instead, he is waylaid by a one-eyed man named Tobi, a man possessing a Sharingan, a terrifying dual personality, a penchant for always being late, and a single-minded mission to stop the Akatsuki in their tracks. When Sasuke runs into Naruto again years later, he must ally with his old teammate in order to protect him from the Akatsuki, while keeping him out of the two man war Tobi and Sasuke have started against the dangerous organization.

(I honest to god can't stop cackling when I read this, the Sasuke & Obito dynamic is so freaking chaotic and Sasuke's characterization is the best thing I've ever read. This boi is a mEsS and I'm fucking rooting for him. He cares so much! There's secret identity shenanigans happening on sasuke's end and it's HILARIOUS! This is the duo I never thought I needed but here it is! *cackles insanely*)

[Diamond no Ace]

Echo in His Hands by SportRayne (rayningnight)

Ship: Miyuki/Sawamura

What does it mean, when you remember snapshots of your own future?

Is it your future at all, if you change it?

Would you even want to change it?

(Look I am WEAK for BAMF Eijun and time travel fics and Miyuki being a tanuki bastard, okay? Time travel fic where Eijun gets feelings of people he knew before in the future. Really good so far and am so excited over this fic!)

The path we walk by WindsOfTime

Ship: Miyuki/Sawamura

Eijun goggles at the magazine she just shoved into his hands. "W-Wakana!" "I know!" she says, beaming. "That's my soulmate!!" "I know!!" "My soulmate plays baseball!!"

(Became such an instant fave so fast it's unbelievable. I LOVE THESE IDIOTS SO MUCH! Best soulmate fic in this fandom, hands down!)

[One Piece]

switching places by fireflywitch

Zoro is 21 and wakes up in a desert they already saved, on a ship that they burned two years ago, and standing next to a man who is supposed to be dead. Except, that can’t be right, can it?

Zoro is 19 and wakes up on a ship that’s too big, next to a robot wearing a swimsuit, and he’s supposed to fight something called a Kaido. Also, he’s missing an eye, and no one’s even a little worried about it?

(or)

Time travel is a shitshow, and Zoro didn't sign up for this.

(FUCKING HILARIOUS ZORO IS THE BEST PERSON TO SEND BACK IN TIME CAUSE HE'D BE TERRIBLE YET FANTASTIC AT IT I CAN'T MAN FIEWNOPFEW)

No Time To Crank The Sun by VIKAN

He’s surrounded by strangers, but they’re all trying to convince him otherwise. Or, Zoro faces a mysterious and relentless challenge that he just can’t wrap his head around.

(This ripped my heart open, I cried reading this my god. Please read this, the pain is so worth it and Zoro and his relationship with his crew is so good here. This reminded me why I love the Straw Hats so much!)

[Fairy Tail]

to learn about a lucy (with a look into the future.) by るる凪 - nagi (arurun)

A watching the future fanfic.

It's currently X781, three years before canon. A group of Fairy Tail mages find themselves in a large building, with no known way out.

They sit down, and they watch the future.

(This is so much more fun than I thought it would be and I'm so happy I found this fic. This fic reignited my old love for this fandom and I hope it does for you too!)

[Harry Potter]

sunflowers by Marnie27

One day, a young girl sits on the edge of a well. On this day, she falls in. Then the next, she’s not even a ‘she’ anymore. He’s Peter Pettigrew — doomed to die at the hands of his (betrayed) friend’s son.

Peter is selfish, bitter and brash. He’s not some fairy tale hero, he doesn’t care if everyone around him dies, as long as he lives. The marauders are annoying and childish. Survival is his priority, and he can’t afford to face distractions.

This just makes the fact that soulmates are now apparently a thing all the more godawful.

(And then another day years later he falls into an entirely new impossibility, Remus Lupin in tow, right into the third book of Harry Potter. Smack bang on the other Peter Pettigrew’s grave).

It’s confusing and graceless, and entirely something that would happen to him of all people.

(Self-insert fic where a girl reincarnates into Peter Pettigrew! And there are soulmates! And it's angsty and hilarious and Peter is an Asshole (somewhat unintentionally lol). Always a fan of biased pov fics and characters slowly improving themselves and their mental health! Cause dying! Is! Traumatic! *smiley face* Please read!)

[Crossovers]

he's a killer queen, sunflower, guillotine by hoye

Fandoms: Fullmetal Alchemist, Harry Potter

He has to be the weirdest Hufflepuff Harry’s ever seen. Scratch that, he’s the weirdest Hufflepuff Hogwarts has ever seen.

(One thing everyone could agree on: NEVER call Edward Elric short.)

(This is peak Edward Elric and all the best things about him and I'm just having a Good Time. Friendships! Logical solutions! Marauder screentime! And so much More! *bright grin* It's a fun place here!)

#Fanfiction #AO3 #Fic Rec #Fic Rec List #Naruto #Diamond no Ace #One Piece #Fairy Tail #Harry Potter #Crossover #Fullmetal Alchemist

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chaeryybomb · 4 years ago

Text

soulmates

pairing: na jaemin x reader

featuring: nct dream, implied markhyuck

genre: angst, fluff, best friends to lovers (kinda),

warnings: cursing, character death, mentions of insomnia

word count: 2.7k

summary: jeno asked if they believed in soulmates. jaemin never thought that a simple question would take him down memory lane.

a/n: this is actually a draft from one of my original stories and it's lowkey my favourite so i thought i turned it into a jaemin imagine. it ended being longer than the original one hjdfhj

"Do you believe in soulmates?"

Jaemin blinked, caught off guard by Jeno's sudden question. He turned to look at Jeno, who was sitting next to Renjun as the other boy was sketching away on his iPad. Jaemin's hand stopped in mid-equitation of his homework as he tilted his head in confusion at Jeno's question.

"Soulmates?" Mark echoed from the other side of the room. They were all scattered in different parts of Jeno's and his living room. When an hour ago they decided to crash at their place for an impromptu sleepover. Donghyuck was laying on Mark's lap, playing some game on his phone. Jaemin doesn't know, all he knows is that Hyuck's lets out a curse word every 5 seconds.

"Yeah," Jeno nodded, "soulmates," he said again, this time more firmly. "Do you believe in them?"

Mark leaned back into the couch and rest his head on top. "Hmmm," he hummed to show that he was in thought.

Chenle, walking out of the kitchen and plopped himself down next to Jisung on the floor, looked up at Jeno and asked, "What was your question again?"

Jeno let out a frustrated sigh and repeated, "Do you believe in soulmates?"

"Oh, nah," Chenle immediately replied. Jeno gave him a look, disappointed at his answer. The younger shrugged in return and went back to watch Jisung's game.

"What about you?" Jeno nudged Renjun at his side.

"Soulmates are fake," Renjun replied.

"He's just saying that because he's single," Donghyuck chimed in from the other side.

Renjun glared at the other boy and threw a pillow at him. The pillow landed square on Donghyuck's face and Renjun laughed at the result. Donghyuck yelped and sat up, almost bumping Mark on the chin. While Jisung let out a victorious "Yes!" and high fived Chenle.

"Asshole! I lost my game because of you!" Donghyuck cursed at Renjun. Whereas Jisung and Chenle snickered at Donghyuck's lost.

The room erupted in laughter, with Donghyuck huffing with his arms crossed after flipping Renjun off. Donghyuck leans back into Mark's chest instead of returning to his previous position. Mark, out of habit, wrapped an arm around his waist, slowly tugging him closer.

Renjun's face twisted in disgust at the couple. "Ew, okay we get it, you're in love. Don't have to rub it in," he faked gagged at them. Jeno laughed while Jaemin shook his head at them with a smile. He was seated furthur away from the group at the dinning table, lab reports scattered in front of him. His pencil sat idle in between his fingers, he should really get back to his homework because it was due tomorrow morning. But his mind still lingered on Jeno's question.

As if he read his mind, Jeno repeated his question once again. "So, do you guys think soulmates are real?" He asked again, Jeno seemed determined to get an answer out of all of them.

"Yeah, I believe them," Mark said, deciding to humor the poor boy. Jeno beamed at his answer while Donghyuck gave him a weirded look at the side.

"You do?" Donghyuck tilted his head.

"Yeah," Mark shrugged and rubbed the back of his neck, choosing to throw caution into the wind with his next words, "I mean, I met you, didn't I?"

The room immediately reacted with a mixed of ews and gagging noises. Even Donghyuck looked disgusted. Mark raised his hands in defense and laughed awkwardly, although the look on his faced said that he regretted nothing.

"Soulmates can be platonic too! It doesn't always have to be romantic," Mark continued. "Personally, I think a soulmate is someone who instantly clicks with you. Like, even if the both of you seem different, there's some kind of mutual understanding between each other, like, even if they don't talk for years, their relationship will remain same."

"It's kinda like having a home in someone. I think a soulmate is someone who feels like home to you," Jeno added. Mark nodded in agreement with him. "It doesn't have to be your significant other, your soulmate can be your sibling or your best friend."

"Oh, so like me and Jisung?"

"I thought you said you don't believe in soulmates," Jisung eyed Chenle suspiciously.

"Well, they're explanations are kinda convincing. Do you believe in soulmates, then?" Chenle fired back at the younger boy.

Jisung nodded. "It's nice to believe in these things, okay." Chenle snorted at his answer but decided to not make fun of him, maybe he'll make fun about Mark's statement later.

"A soulmate should be someone who understands you completely. They know how exactly you feel even if you try to fake it. They're someone who'll love who you are and appreciate you," Jaemin heard Mark said.

As the group continues to discuss about their views on soulmates, Jaemin shook his head and tried to return to his homework. Keyword, tried. His mind was still stubbornly thinking about the question instead of focusing on finishing the equation on hand. Yet the word "soulmates" continued to run laps around his head. Mark and Jeno's words echoed in his head and soon he found himself drifting away to a long forgotten memory.

Jaemin was seven years old when a moving truck stopped in front of the vacant house beside his for the first time in 3 years. He stood in his yard as he watched adults emerged from the vehicle. Curiously, he walked nearer and stood behind his fence. One of the adults open the big doors behind the truck to reveal a bunch of boxes stacked together. As the boxes started to be removed by other adults, an orange ball falls from one of the open boxes and rolled to his feet.

Jaemin bent down to pick up the ball when a pair of feet appeared in his line of vision. Looking up, like an angel being casted down to him, it was the first time he saw you. The sunlight made it looked like you were glowing. And in his seven year old mind, you were the princess he read about in books.

You peered down at him with a growing smile. You reached a hand out and introduced yourself. "Hi! I'm Y/N!"

Jaemin stood up and dusted himself, staring at your hand. He was nervous, he didn't know why but he was. The smile on your face dimmed, a bit hurt that he didn't shake your hand nor tell you his name. You looked at the orange ball in his hand and coughed.

"Um," you pointed at the toy, "that's mine."

As if Jaemin was snapped out of a trance, he blinked at you and then at the ball before realization dawned on him. "Oh!" he said, cheeks flushing in

embarrassment.

"Um, sorry, here you go," and he thrusted the ball towards you. You took the ball from him and turn around to walk away when he stopped you with an awkward cough. "My name's Jaemin, Na Jaemin..."

Blinking a few times, you gave him a toothy grin and said, "Nice to meet you, Jaemin! I'm L/N Y/N!"

Soulmates can be platonic, it doesn't always have to be romantic. Your soulmate can be your sibling or your best friend. Was what they said. Well, you were definitely his best friend.

"Whatcha doing, Nana?" You asked.

Jaemin yelped from your sudden appearance, the book he was holding fell from his hands and onto his left foot. Jaemin hissed in pain and grabbed his foot, hopping on one foot before falling onto his butt.

You winced at the incident. "Sorry!" You squeaked. Jaemin gave you and unimpressed look and rolled his eyes at you. You offered him a hand to get up but instead he pulled you down with him. You fell down with a thud beside Jaemin as you let out an "oof".

Jaemin's laugh rang through your ears as you pushed yourself up. You glared at him and he stuck his tongue out at you. You shifted so you were sitting cross-legged beside him while he moved to retrieve his fallen book. You looked over to him and playfully shove him.

"What are you reading, nerd?"

"If I told you, you wouldn't understand anyways."

You gasped dramatically at his reply and feigned hurt, placing your hand above your heart. "Hey, I know I don't have the braincells but you don't have to remind me," you defended.

Jaemin rolled his eyes at you and ignored you, opting to return to his book. Noticing the lack of reaction, you sighed loudly and fell back into the grass. As you cross your arms above your head, you took a peek at Jaemin. He was still immersed in whatever book he was reading.

"Nerd," you mumbled under your breath.

After a few moments of silence, you stood up and brushed yourself off. Jaemin looked up at you as you offered your hand again. "C'mon, I heard there's a new boba place near school," you told him.

Jaemin stared at your hand for awhile before sighing and taking it in. "Fine but I want to stop by at 7-Eleven too," he negotiated.

Giving him your signature toothy grin, you shook your intertwined hands and said, "Deal."

A soulmate is someone who instantly clicks with you, no matter the difference. Even if the both of you seem different, there's some kind of mutual understanding between each other. Even if they don't talk for years, their relationship will remain same.

You and Jaemin had your differences. Jaemin liked to stay inside and read on the hundreds of scientific books he had in his room. You wanted to go out and see the world, you hated being cooped in. You felt trapped while Jaemin felt at peace. So sometimes Jaemin really wonders how the two of you could've gotten so close.

You practically had to drag him out while he head to beg you to let him stay ta home. Most people would've drifted away by now. Something kept the both of you together and Jaemin thought he knew why. You were like the sun while he was like the moon.

Your presence was refreshing. You were always there to brighten up his days and your smile was a boost of serotonin for him. Whenever he was with you, there will always be a smile on his face. He was happy, and he never knew why. The reason was because of you.

And he was the moon to your sun. His calming presence was able to match your hype energy. The both of you were balanced because he kept you at bay. He was the yin to your yang. The both of you just understood each other and everything else fell in place by itself.

By the time middle school was over, you and Jaemin had parted ways to different high schools. Despite being neighbours, the both of you had trouble finding spare time to hang out. You were busy with the student council and he was busy with the photography club that you had forced him to join.

"Oh what about this one?" You slid the flyer over to him.

Jaemin picked it up and quirked an eyebrow at you. "The photography club?"

"Yeah, you like taking pictures don't you? Plus you can use the camera I got for you from your birthday!"

You looked so excited, he swore your eyes were glittering when you looked at him with anticipation. How could he ever refuse? And he was glad he didn't. Because he met Lee Jeno and Huang Renjun from the photography club and the two boys introduced him to the rest. He never told you this but he was forever thankful to you for convincing him.

But despite all of that, the two of you would somehow managed to find time. Be it him randomly face-timing you at 4am because he couldn't sleep, or you climbing into his bedroom window because you hated being alone. Distance was never a problem for the both of you, nothing will ever changed. And somewhere along the way, Jaemin realized his heart was with you.

It's not uncommon for Jaemin to be staring at his ceiling at... 3am? He turned his head and squinted at his alarm clock. Ah, no, it was 4am. These were one of those nights where insomnia had taken over. Sighing, he turned to his side and hugged his body-pillow closer. You nagged him that sleeping late during the holidays will bite him in the ass one day. Maybe he should've listened to you.

Thinking of you, he turned to his other side where he was facing his window. Your lights were switched off. Of course it was, you were sleeping. Who would be awake at this ungodly hour? Right, him...

He stared at your window, debating whether if he should call you or not. For some reason, he felt nervous. Why would he be nervous? He has called you multiple times before when he was bored. But would he be a bother? He moved to lay on his back and dropped his arm on his eyes.

"Fuck it," he whispered to himself and reached over to grabbed his phone. He tapped into his contacts and went straight to your number. He pressed the video call option and waited. From his window, he could see a small light appearing before your room was covered in pink lights.

"Hello?" Your disoriented voice caught his attention. You looked tired, your blankets were pulled up to your nose and your eyes were struggling to open. But he couldn't help but thought that you were beautiful. "Jaemin?" you called out.

"Hi," he said, muffled by his pillow. "Sorry for calling, I'll just hang up-"

"No, it's f-" you cut yourself off with a yawn, "it's fine," you said sleepily.

He frowned at your sleepy state, feeling guilty for waking you up at 4am. "Sorry," he apologized again.

"It's fine," you said again, your voice being more stable now as the sleep started to fade. "So, what's up?"

"I don't know, just can't sleep," he told you. Jaemin moved so he was laying on his side, using on hand to hold the phone while the other was tucked under his head.

"That's alright, we can just stay here until sunrise," you said. You had moved your sleeping position and was now mimicking his position.

It was right then, in the moment when Jaemin realized, he loves you. Like a bomb being dropped on him, he realized he's in love with his best friend. In the dead of night, hours before the sun rises, you could've ignored his call and go back to sleep. But you chose to accept his call and stay up with him, knowing that the both of you have school in a few hours. Yet here you were, with him. And he loves you.

"Y/N," he whispers, it was barely audible but you had somehow managed to heard him.

"Yeah?"

"I love you."

Silence. Did...did he just said that? He internally started to panic. What if you don't feel the same? What if you take it the wrong way? He blamed the drowsiness in him. He's scared to look at your reaction, but he does. And the fondness in your eyes tells him that he was wrong. You looked at him like he was your world. And he knew, that the both of you were in love.

"I love you too-"

"-Jaemin?"

Jaemin's eyes snapped up at the sound of his name. The room was now silent with all eyes on him. His pencil was still in his hand, the equation still unfinished. "What's up?" He asked them.

"Jeno asked if you believe in soulmates," Jisung said.

The boy tigthened his grip on his pencil as he thought. Does he believe in soulmates? Maybe. He used to believe that they were real. Because Jaemin believed that he had already met his soulmates. But if soulmates were truly real, the universe wouldn't have taken you away from him, right?

Because he still remembered the crack in your mother's voice when she broke the news to him. You were gone. He still remembered the way his heart shattered to pieces when they said you never made it. Because you're not here anymore.

So, once upon a time, Jaemin did believed in soulmates. But you were cruelly taken away from him. He looked up to meet the gaze of his friends.

"No," he finally said, "I don't believe in soulmates."

#nct #nct dream #jaemin #jaemin imagines #nct scenarios #nct angst #nct dream imagines #nct dream x reader #jaemin angst #jaamin x reader #na jaemin x reader #nct imagines #kpop imagines #nct x reader

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nothingbutimagines · 4 years ago

Text

Hideaway (Peter Parker)

Pairing: Peter Parker x Reader x Platonic!Avengers

Warning: a bit of fluff, sassy Steve Rogers and Reader

Summary: Snowed in and with a free day without any work to do, Peter and Y/n decide to create a fort in the common room, leading to many antics and many complaints from the other avengers they share the living space with.

Author: Dizzy

A/N: On the fifth day of ficmas my writer gave to me another Peter Parker fluffy fic. Once again, as always, happy holidays and keep an eye out for the many fics to come. I love you all and you always inspire me to write some of my best work.

Masterlist Request Any Of These Peter Parker/Tom Holland Masterlist

__________________

You groaned, flopping down onto the couch between Peter and Steve, allowing your arms to hit them both in the chest as you sprawled out across them.

Both ignored you, Peter playing on his phone while Steve read a book quietly.

You groaned once more, flailing your arms a bit again to gain their attention, hoping one, if not both, would pay attention to you.

“Okay, what’s wrong?” Steve asked, shutting his book as he looked at you, a brow raised.

“I’m bored.” You whined, only to receive an eye roll from Steve as Peter chuckled in your ear.

“Then go do something. I think there’s some puzzles in the tv stand.”

“I hate to break it to you, Stevie, but only you old men like puzzles.”

“What have I told you about calling me and other people nicknames they don’t like?”

“It’s condescending and rude.” You rolled your eyes as you spoke. “But I think your suggestion was condescending and rude, so it’s only fair.”

“Yeah,” Peter added, looking up from his phone, “You gotta cancel it out, like PEMDAS.”

Steve rolled his eyes, opening his book once more. “Maybe you both could go outside, get some fresh air.”

“I think it’s only 20 degrees outside, Mr. Rogers.” Peter replied politely.

“Well, if you two can’t find something to do, I’m sure we can probably put together a whole list of chores for you to do.”

You scrambled to get up off the couch, landing on your feet and holding out your hand to Peter.

“Come along, Peter. We have a puzzle to do.”

“Bug, I don’t want to do a puzzle. Can’t we do something else?” He asked, taking your hand while he stood up and followed you out of the living room.

“Like what? Clean the compound?” You asked, glancing over your shoulder at him as you walked down the hallway. “Besides, it doesn’t even need that much cleaning.”

“You can’t even see the floor in your room!”

“I said the compound didn’t need cleaning, not my personal space. Also, it’s not that bad. It’s an organized mess.”

“Do you even remember what color your carpet is?”

“I think it’s red?”

“Is that a question or a statement?” Peter asked before shaking his head. “It doesn’t matter anyway, because you’re wrong. It’s grey like everyone else’s.”

“I bet your room isn’t as clean as you think.” You argued.

“Actually, I think it is.”

Peter pulled your arm, causing you to stop before passing his bedroom. He opened the door and walked in, dragging you along with him.

You looked around the room, noticing that the room was spotless, except for a single jacket sitting on a chair.

“I guess I stand corrected.”

“You guess?” Peter rolled his eyes as he took a seat down on his bed. “Hey, I have an idea, we should make a pillow and blanket fort.”

“That would be so cool! Let’s use your sheets though because I honestly don’t know where I last saw mine.”

“And you say you live in an ‘organized mess.’“

“Oh, shut up and just help me collect some pillows and blankets.” You shushed him, starting to take pillows and blankets off of the bed. “I say we should make our fort in the living room. I want to bother Steve.”

“You always want to bother him. Why can’t we just do it in here?”

“Because we need the couch cushions and I wanna watch tv in the fort.”

“You only want to piss off Mr. Rogers, you mean.”

“I guess that too.” You shrugged, laying out a blanket on the ground and putting the rest of the blankets and the pillows on it.

“Hey,” Peter smiled, making his way towards you, “come here.”

You turned around, allowing him to approach you as he rested his hands on your hips and kiss you softly. You hummed quietly, melting into him before pulling away and taking in a deep breath, your hands resting on his chest.

“Let’s go. We’ve got a fort to build.”

You turned around taking two corners of the blanket into your hand and dragged it into the hallway, your back turned to the door as you faced Peter. You turned into the hall, pulling the blanket as you made sure the pillows didn’t fall.

“Oh, watch it, kid.” Tony stated as you bumped into him. “What are you doing?”

You turned around, putting your hands behind you as you gripped the blanket tightly. “Getting supplies together for a pillow fort.”

“And where are you building said fort?”

“Living room.”

“You guys need any help?”

“No, I think we got it, right, Peter?” You looked at Peter, nodding at him as he nodded back, gathering up the other side of the blanket into his own hands.

“Right, Bug.”

“I guess I’ll leave you two to it, then. Have fun.”

“We always do.” You nodded, dragging the blanket along with Peter down the hall quickly, squeezing past Tony.

“I really thought we were about to be in trouble there.” Peter spoke up as you entered the living room.

“Why would we be? The only time I’ve ever been in trouble with Tony was when I accidentally started that small fire in the lab.”

“Uh, I think it was more than just a small fire. It took up one corner of the lab.”

“At least I put it out. You just stood there and watched.”

“Well, I’m sorry if I was panicking! I’ve never witnessed a fire in person!” Peter groaned, dropping his end of the blanket as you entered the living room.

You dropped your end as well, brushing your hands together before motioning for Peter to come over towards you.

“Come help me move this table.” You instructed.

You bent over, taking the side of the coffee table you were on as Peter took the other side, helping you drag the coffee table out of the way. You then pushed the couch Steve wasn’t sitting on back.

“Okay, I think we’re ready to put the fort together.” You looked at Peter, who nodded.

“Why don’t we use the red blanket to go from the couch to the tv?” Peter asked, pulling the blanket out from the pile, “Since it’s the biggest one.”

“Perfect. And then we can use the grey one to go from that couch to the other one and then in between we can make that the entrance.”

“I like that idea, let’s do it.”

You helped Peter first take the cushions off of the couch, tossing them onto the floor before helping him drape the red blanket over the couch and tv before moving onto the other couch, carefully draping the grey blanket over the red one and then over the couch, trapping Steve under the blanket.

“Y/n...”

“Steve...”

“You could have asked me to move.”

“I didn’t feel like it.” You shrugged. “But if you don’t want to be part of the fort building, just say it.”

“I’m going to go make some coffee.” Steve pulled the blanket off of him and got off the couch, putting the blanket back down onto the couch before leaving the room.

“What’s with you and Mr. Rogers anyway?” Peter asked as he crawled into the fort, starting to organize the cushions.

“Steve just annoys me sometimes. He’s always all work and no play and it’s boring.”

“You know, if you found something in common, you might actually get along.”

“Steve likes puzzles and hard candy. He’s like my grandpa and I have nothing in common with him besides blood.”

You shrugged, picking up the last of the blankets and starting to create the rest of the walls and entrance before grabbing a notepad off of the tv stand and writing a sign for the entrance and tacking it up.

“I thought you liked seeing your grandpa.” Peter said, poking his head out fo the fort to look at you as you put the last blanket up.

“I do, but he’s my grandpa. Steve’s just... Steve. Why can’t you just let me tease him?”

Peter shrugged. “I don’t know. Can you hand me the rest of the pillows?”

“Yeah.” You nodded, handing him the last of the pillows. “Here.”

You climbed in as you grabbed the rest of the pillows, looking around the fort.

Peter had arranged the cushions into small couches and mattresses and used some blankets for the little bed covers.

“I like what you’ve done with the place.” You giggled, closing the entrance blanket behind you.

“Thank you. I was going for a very contemporary look for the living space as well as an American color scheme.” Peter explained, as if he was a true interior designer. “Blue and red look very good together, almost complementary in a way. It also helps bring a contrast with the white rug, which I think was a very bold choice when you have children living in the home.”

You laughed, giving him a nudge. “I am honestly surprised we’ve never spilled anything in here.”

“I don’t know why. Mr. Stark has a very strict no food policy for anyone under 35.”

“I cannot wait to turn 35 then.” You smiled.

You leaned forward, giving him a quick kiss before he wrapped his arms around you, engulfing you in his embrace and pulling you down to the floor with him. You squealed as he rolled you both over before covering your face in kisses and laughing along with you.

“Am I allowed into your fortress?”

You looked up to see Thor peering at you two from the entrance way, a bright smile on his face.

“Only if you can answer this one question,” You smiled, “Would you do it for the vine?”

“I believe so, yes.” Thor nodded proudly.

“Perfect. Come on in, Thunderboy.”

Thor crawled in, laughing as he looked at Peter. “I love it when she calls me that.”

Peter laughed and leaned back into the side of the couch as you both watched Thor pull a package of Pop Tarts from his pocket.

“Care for a treat?” He asked, breaking off small pieces and holding them out to you. “I won’t tell Metal Man you ate in here.”

“Well, don’t mind if I do.” You beamed, taking the pieces from Thor and popping them into your mouth.

“Hey,” Steve bent over, mug in hand as he peered into the fort entrance at you, “I thought the sign said ‘no one over 35 allowed.’ Thor’s like 1,000 years old.”

“Actually, I am 1,500 year old, Steven.” Thor interjected.

“Yeah, Steven, Thor’s 1,500 years old.” You replied, gazing up at Steve. ”Thor’s allowed in because when asked if he would do it for the vine, he said yes.”

Thor chuckled, looking at Steve. “I’m not even exactly sure what ‘the vine’ is, but my answer had those two very pleased.”

“I see.”

“Hey, Peter, doesn’t this fort have a no loser allowed rule?” You asked, turning to the boy beside you.

“It sure has a open door policy for bratty little girls, though.” Steve argued.

“I think you’ve overstayed your welcome. Goodbye, Steve.” You leaned forward, closing the entrance to the fort.

“Yes, Goodbye, Steven!” Thor added happily as you giggled, falling back into the larger man.

174 notes · View notes

a-small-batch-of-dragons · 4 years ago

Text

Just Fine

Prompts: I just finished your Merlin fic Not Bad, and was wondering if we could have something of a sequel to it, if you're willing? Thank you either way! - anon

hi omg i absolute love your works on ao3, you're such a talented writer! i'm in love with your touch starved! merlin fic on ao3 and if you're still writing merlin fics and if you wanted to write it i would love to see a second part! (i've never used tumblr before so i don't know if this is where you even take promps/ requests but i figured i had to try, i love your works so much!) - anon

So many people asked for a part 2 so now we have a part 2 yay

Read on Ao3 Part 1

Warnings: this chapter is fluff all the way down, folks

Pairings: platonic merlin & everybody, can be merthur if you want I don't care

Word Count: 4729

Healing isn't supposed to be easy, but maybe the others can help make it easier.

He did say he was going to be pulling Merlin into his bed to cuddle with him in the mornings.

The sunlight is a menace, Arthur’s sleep-slack brain decides one day as it slices knife-like over his eyes through a slit in the curtains. He furrows his brow and turns, nuzzling his face into his pillow and doing his very best to ignore the fact that it’s morning now which means he’ll have to get up and do things. He’s royalty, he shouldn’t have to do anything he doesn’t want to.

…well, okay, maybe that’s not true.

Arthur muffles a snort into his pillow.

That should show how much Merlin’s been rubbing off on him since he came to Camelot, Arthur before Merlin would’ve huffed in that arrogant prat way—he’s not too proud to admit he has his moments—and said that he gets to decide what he wants to do, no one else. Arthur after Merlin knows that he’s his people’s servant as much as they are his. He may not have had the words to express it before Merlin but he’s always felt that way. Seeing someone so blatantly defy the status quo—and by extension, Uther—helped bring that out of him.

See? This is why he’s tired and deserves more sleep. He’s already waxing poetic about Merlin. He turns over in bed again and resolves to try and get a little more sleep.

Of course, as soon as his head hits that side of the pillow, the door opens, and in come Merlin’s footsteps.

The curtains are pulled open and Arthur winces, the light beaming onto the back of his head. Merlin putters around, probably setting up breakfast going by the smell of sausages, and then there’s a tug on his blanket.

“No,” he mumbles, holding it closer to his face, “lemme sleep.”

“You have to get up, Arthur,” comes Merlin’s amused snort, “you’ve got a meeting with Leon in a few hours.”

Arthur grumbles, refusing to open his eyes. “Then why can’t I sleep until then?”

“Because if I don’t get you up now, you won’t have enough time to wake up properly.”

“But it’s just Leon!”

“Yes, and you know he has this annoying habit of looking pristine even when he’s covered in mud.”

This is true. Arthur sighs, cracking his eyes open, and is immediately greeted by a wonderful sight.

Merlin, his Merlin, is standing in the sunlight.

It felt like a knife on Arthur’s face, but on Merlin, it looks like a cloak. A cape. Something to be worn with pride. He glows, that’s the only way to describe it. Even his eyes are shining.

How can anyone believe that Merlin isn’t magic?

…yeah, he must be really tired.

“Arthur,” Merlin calls, and only then does Arthur realize he must’ve called his name a few times, “you okay?”

Arthur nods dumbly, still grinning dopily up at Merlin. Merlin looks warm. Warm Merlin. Merlin should be warm. Warmth is good for Merlin.

Something cold ripples through his chest as he remembers how cold Merlin was the first day he let them hug him.

Merlin shouldn’t be cold.

“Arthur?” A gentle tap on his shoulder. “Are you okay?”

Arthur blinks and holds his arms out. “C’mere.”

Now it’s Merlin’s turn to blink. “What?”

“Come here,” he insists, reaching for Merlin, “just come here.”

Merlin’s face flushes an adorable red. “Arthur, I—“

“I’ll get up in a minute, I promise, but come here first.”

Merlin sighs. “Alright, you big baby.”

But Arthur can see the way he trembles with uncertainty as he sits down to take off his boots. He can see the way Merlin’s brow twitches and how he isn’t quite sure of himself as he slides under the covers.

Well. Can’t have that.

“I said come here,” Arthur murmurs, gathering Merlin into his arms, “there.”

“…’rthur?”

“There,” Arthur sighs, snuggling into his new Merlin-shaped pillow, “perfect.”

Merlin’s tunics are scratchy. He’s a bit elbows and knees. He doesn’t seem to know what to do with all his limbs.

But as Merlin’s arms shakily come up to hold Arthur back, a contented rumble comes from Arthur’s chest.

Merlin is warm.

Yeah, they’re not getting up for a few hours. Leon will understand.

Merlin doesn’t like going hunting, which is fine, which is why they’ve affectionally renamed it ‘a woods trip.’ Actually, he’s pretty sure Gwaine calls it ‘get Arthur out of the castle so his prat nature doesn’t consume him,’ but everyone gets the point.

The point is that it’s one of the few times where they can just be a group of men, bit worried about getting stabbed by bandits, yes, but not worried about the rules and hierarchies and eyes of the city on them all the time. They can mess about and joke and partake in the bizarre sense of humor they all seem to have without any of the guards looking worriedly at each other when they think they won’t be seen.

Honestly, most of the guards at this point have just…accepted it. Arthur will never quite get over the one time he overheard a conversation with one of the new guards outside his room.

“Shouldn’t we tell someone that the servant is conspiring against the King?”

There had been a scoff from the older guard, Kodi. “You must be new.”

If Merlin had wondered why Arthur was muffling snorts into a napkin when he returned, he didn’t ask.

The woods aren’t exactly safe, not like Camelot is, but as Leon says, the safest place for a ship is in the harbor but ships were made to sail.

It’s what he tends to pull out whenever one of them complains about camping out for a night.

“Come on,” Gwaine mutters as he tries to get the fire to start, “come on, you bastard…”

Merlin glances over and hides a smirk. “Need a hand, Gwaine?”

“No.”

After a few seconds pass, Gwaine stifles a sigh.

“Maybe.”

Merlin stands, takes the flint and steel from him, and crouches down. He strikes it once and there’s barely a spark. He frowns. Another try yields another failure.

“What’s wrong with this thing?”

“So it’s not me. Great.”

“No, it’s—did someone leave this out?”

“Ah—“ Percival raises his hand— “that might’ve been me. One of the canteens spilled over the pack that it was in.”

“Well, yeah, that’ll explain why the—yeah, that’s it.” Merlin sighs. “Okay, well, um…”

“Can’t you just—“ Lancelot snaps his fingers— “you know?”

Merlin stiffens.

“Hey,” Gwaine murmurs softly, resting his hand on Merlin’s shoulder, “Merlin. Hey, Merlin, look at me.”

Merlin turns, his mouth a hard line.

“You have magic,” Gwaine says gently, “we know. We don’t care that it’s illegal. You’re not bad for having magic and we won’t punish you for using it.”

“…thanks.”

“Anytime.” He nods toward a scrap of kindling. “Now come on, I’m hungry.”

It gets a weak laugh out of Merlin as he stretches his hand out and mumbles something. A fire sparks into existence and roars merrily. Gwaine smiles and wraps his arms tightly around Merlin.

“Good job, Merlin,” he says quietly as Percival drops a hand onto his shoulder and rubs, “good job.”

“…really?”

“Yes.” Percival gives his shoulder a squeeze. “Good.”

New rule they figured out: Merlin isn’t allowed to go near bodies of water unsupervised.

It’s the end of winter and the trees are just starting to grow their leaves out again. The grass is turning green under the lumps of snow that still remain and the birds have started to sing. All around them is the sharp sweet smell of new, the soft cracks as the ice melts.

Soft cracks, mind you. Not big ones that mean someone is about to fall through a thawing lake.

He didn’t actually fall through, but it had been a close thing.

Elyan had fretted for a good few minutes as Merlin’s teeth chattered until they figured out the poor man had just had a clump of snow fall on top of him, he hadn’t fallen through the ice into the lake. He gets a half-hearted scolding as they whip up a fire and a warm drink, quickly replaced by questions of whether he’s okay, is everything still attached to him, is he hurt?

“I’m fine,” Merlin insists, huddling by the fire, “just a bit cold.”

“You’re still shivering,” Elyan points out quietly, “give me your hands.”

“What? Why?”

“I’m going to make sure you don’t lose circulation.”

Merlin frowns but lets Elyan take his hands. The knight begins to rub his fingers in a pattern Merlin recognizes from Gaius, stimulating blood flow back into the digits to ensure that everything is working properly.

Elyan works patiently for a few seconds until he realizes that Merlin’s eyes have glazed over.

“Merlin?”

Merlin blinks and seems to snap out of whatever daze he was in. “Sorry, sorry, I just—um—“

Elyan tilts his head, Merlin’s hands still cradled in his lap as he struggles for words. Absentmindedly, he swipes a thumb over Merlin’s palm and Merlin bites back a whimper.

“Merlin, am I hurting you?”

“I mean…yes? But no, no wait, I don’t want you to stop, I just—it—“

“Shh,” Elyan says, “it’s okay. Tell me what hurts.”

“I just…you’re really warm,” Merlin mumbles, “and I guess I’m just not used to…to…to touch yet.”

“Ah, I see.” Elyan moves his hands slowly, seeing the blood flow is mostly back to normal as he cups Merlin’s hands between his own. “It’s still warmer than you’re used to, right?”

Merlin nods.

“Can I keep holding your hands?”

“Mhm.”

Elyan holds Merlin’s hands in his own until they deem it safe for him to ride back to Camelot.

If Lancelot knows the secret to getting Merlin to feel a little more comfortable in his own skin, it’s to have him hold something.

He’s not sure why it takes Merlin’s mind down an edge as he begins to fiddle with whatever’s in his hands, but it does. The worried furrow in his brow softens into one of concentration, the anxious twitches of his fingers grow more fluid, more relaxed as he twists and turns the thing between them. Over the years, he’s gotten good at figuring out what Merlin needs to be holding, if he does say so himself.

When Arthur has an important meeting that makes Merlin’s eyes dart around the room, Lancelot hands him a shirt that needs to be repaired. Merlin’s hands navigate the stitches with ease as he makes sure Arthur’s got his armor of a different sort.

When there’s a tournament full of knights coming from far away that Merlin can’t trust quite yet, Lancelot hands him a pouch of seeds to sort, collected from one of the children from the flower store. Merlin sorts them deftly, putting each group into a little envelope to be returned, using it to hone his eye.

When there’s a terrible thunderstorm and Merlin can’t sleep, when Lancelot finds him wandering the castle late at night, he gives him a little plush toy. It’s a small thing, stitched together from remnants of clothing, and something that the servants pretend doesn’t exist. But if you know where to look, and who to talk to, there will be a little stuffed toy sitting on your nightstand if you ever need something to hold. Malwen raises an eyebrow when he asks for one but once she knows it’s for Merlin, Lancelot has it before the day is out.

As he watches Merlin fiddle with the toy, twirling one of the buttons around and round its thread, he wonders.

Is this the only form of physical comfort Merlin has ever allowed himself to have?

The answer is an incredibly disheartening yes, and Lancelot resolves to always give Merlin what he needs to help himself.

Then there’s a moment where Lancelot has no idea what Merlin would want to hold.

It’s a visiting lord, because it’s always a visiting lord when it’s not bandits or a visiting knight. They storm inside—Lancelot hadn’t bothered to remember his name—and pronounced that he missed Uther’s way of doing things. That when Uther was in charge, Camelot was strong, that there were roots of evil snuffed out at every turn.

Of course, he was quickly glared into submission by Percival and Arthur had cooly informed him that evil was snuffed out by not giving it an environment to grow, not futility ripping weeds from the soil.

But not in time to stop the lord’s words from getting to Merlin.

Lancelot finds Merlin on the balcony that isn’t a balcony, an abandoned training ground far above the rest of the city. He sits on the old stone, swinging his legs back and forth, staring at the ground with a glazed expression. His hands twist and turn over each other and his breathing is a little too controlled to be safe.

“Merlin,” he calls softly, not wanting to startle him, “Merlin, can I come sit with you?”

“Mm.”

“Thank you.” Lancelot eases himself down onto the stone bench, speaking softly as if he’s trying to soothe a wild animal. “Are you hurt?”

“No.”

Merlin isn’t hurt, good. Lancelot glances down at his hands. They twitch and knead at the fabric of his tunic. They clench into fists only to open a few seconds later. They look like they hurt.

They’re trembling.

Lancelot takes a deep breath and carefully, oh, so carefully, takes one of them in his.

Merlin goes limp, all but slumping into his shoulder. His hands are so cold.

“I’m right here, Merlin,” Lancelot murmurs, giving the hand in his a squeeze, “I’m right here.”

Slowly, he reaches out to take the other, feeling Merlin’s hands twitch lazily in his. Every so often, Merlin will squeeze and he will squeeze back. Merlin’s head tucks itself under his chin and the warm rush of his breath hits Lancelot’s arm. His hands stay safely in Lancelot’s grip.

Lancelot will always give Merlin something to hold. It’s no accident that includes his own hands.

Not many people in Camelot know that Leon isn’t just Arthur’s right hand, but the closest thing Arthur had to a brother.

They grew up together, in the streets and fields and halls of Camelot, running around with sticks before they got given swords, fighting dragons and monsters before they battled the real ones, helping each other in secret before they rose to places where no one could hurt them.

Leon remembers holding an Arthur too young for any of this as his father raged, as the swords clashed too close to his face, as a peaceful village burned around them. He remembers a younger Arthur holding onto his cloak, his sleeve, his hand, always asking, asking, asking Leon to be there, just to be there, the way he didn’t feel anyone else was.

They’re older now, and now Arthur is a man Leon is proud to know. He asks Arthur for things now, for help dismantling the things they hated as children, for help finding ways to take care of the knights when he doesn’t know what to do, for help figuring out what to do in this world where things are starting to make less and less sense day by day.

Arthur is his brother, his friend, and his King. Leon is Arthur’s brother, his friend, and his Knight.

To most others, Leon is nigh untouchable. He is the longest-serving knight in Camelot, he is almost royalty with how close he is to the Pendragon family, and he is near unmatched on the dueling grounds. He has the ear of the King, the unwavering loyalty of the knights, and the faith of the Council.

There is a short list of the few who know he this is not all he is.

There are a few children in the lower town who know he is a kind man before he is a great knight, that there are scrapes and bruises they receive running from something only to be protected by a red cloak and a calm voice. There are a few servants who know that his presence as they walk to Gaius is an impenetrable shield on one side and the softest guiding hand on the other. There are a few stable boys who know that they will never again be beaten for who they are because he is just like them.

But Leon has not truly cared for someone younger than him since Arthur was little. Not the way he used to.

Of course, as he is with most things, Merlin is the exception to this rule.

Merlin, with all his magic and baffling charm and bumbling wisdom, worms his way into Leon’s heart by the time he gets assigned to be Prince Arthur’s Manservant. From there, it isn’t hard for Leon to watch with a certain glow of pride in his chest as Arthur starts to change, from the hardened fist Uther wanted him to be to the man the little boy he grew up with was supposed to be. He keeps his words to himself about how kind Merlin is, relentlessly so, and smiles quietly when Arthur begins to clumsily mimic the acts of kindness. He grows to care for Merlin quickly, making room next to his heart for one more, nestled close.

But it isn’t until he has a chance to comfort Merlin properly that he begins to think of him as a brother.

Don’t get him wrong, Merlin is his brother the same way the knights are his brothers. But Leon hasn’t loved someone the way he loves Arthur in a long time.

He receives a call from Gaius and responds, hurrying down to the physician’s chambers to see Merlin’s face is awfully flushed and his eyes red-rimmed in tears. He hurries faster to Merlin’s side, asking what’s happened, what’s wrong?

It seems Merlin has been fixing something wrong with the magic of this bracelet Gaius shows him, a silver one with a big amber stone in the middle. It looks familiar, it reminds Leon of Morgana for some strange reason, but he can’t quite place it. But it seems something went wrong and now…now poor Merlin is upset.

Leon knows what to do.

He guides Merlin carefully into his room, stopping to remove his mail shirt and leaving him in the softer under-tunic and cloak, and sitting Merlin carefully down on the bed. The poor man looks cold, small, like a scared dog.

“Merlin,” he says softly, “Merlin, I’m going to sit next to you now.”

He eases his weight down onto the bed and waits. Waits for another tear to roll down Merlin’s cheek to let out a soft noise of concern, melting at the sight of someone crying.

“Come,” he murmurs, opening his arms, “shed your tears, Merlin.”

And oh, he hasn’t seen those eyes for a very long time. Not since little Arthur had looked up at him, shining with undisguised hope and want but holding himself back, like a starved puppy too scared to eat. It breaks his heart and he lets out another low noise, reaching for Merlin.

“When Arthur was little,” he murmurs, his voice low and soothing as he begins to gather Merlin into his lap, “he never used to like sleeping alone when his father was away. He said the castle was too big, too empty, even with all the people inside.”

He takes Merlin’s hands and guides them around his neck.

“I never liked sleeping in the castle either, it was too quiet. I didn’t know where anything was, except for Arthur. One night, he came into my chambers and all but tackled me in a hug.” He smiles fondly at the memory. “He insisted I let him stay.”

“St-stay?”

“Yes, Merlin, stay. Stay with me, let me hold him until we both fell asleep. He pulled himself into my lap—yes, just like this, your legs over mine—and wrapped his arms around my neck—there you go, just here, that’s it, you hold onto me now—and we stayed like that until we fell asleep.”

Merlin’s hair ruffles as he settles, Leon’s breath warming the top of Merlin’s head as he tucks the poor man close. Merlin’s hands are ice around his neck.

“And when the nights got cold, we would wrap ourselves up in the blankets,” he continues, beginning to swaddle them both in his cloak, “until we were bundled so tightly together that even the coldest night wouldn’t get it. It was warm, I remember being warm, there, in the bed, in the blankets, safe…and warm…”

There’s a quiet sigh against his neck as he wraps the cloak around the both of them. It’s warm, a perfect little nest. Merlin’s weight settles against his chest and part of him that’s been suppressed for many, many years starts to warm.

“He stopped coming to me when he got older,” he murmurs, “whether because he didn’t need it anymore or if he got too big. Between you and me, I’m sure it’s the second one. He’d still try if he weren’t worried about hurting me. I think he misses it, sometimes.”

He pauses, then leans closer and tucks his face against Merlin’s temple.

“I know I did. I still do, every now and then, but I know Arthur feels safe now in a way he never did when we were growing up. And most of that is thanks to you.”

“M-me?”

“Yes, Merlin,” Leon whispers, “you. You make him feel safe, make the rest of us feel safe. You’re a good person, Merlin, and we care very deeply about you.”

“…you do?”

He can hear the sleep coloring Merlin’s voice. He hushes the poor thing, cuddles him close, rocks the both of them closer to slumber.

“Of course we do,” he whispers to his brother, “of course we do.”

+1.

Sometimes Merlin has good days. Days where he’s smiling and laughing and joking with the knights. Days where he’s bantering back and forth with Arthur like it’s nothing. Days where he uses his magic the way he always has, like it’s a part of him.

Sometimes Merlin has bad days. Days where he’s quiet and they can’t get him to smile. Days where he is every bit the perfect servant for Arthur, which means he’s about as far from Merlin as he could be. Days where he seems to want to pretend he’s never had magic in his life.

Today is a bad day.

Merlin doesn’t talk until one of them asks. He goes off on his chores and they don’t see him for hours. Gaius is worried. Leon is worried. Lancelot is worried.

Percival is angry. Some of the new knights believe Merlin is a traitor—for whatever reason—and spends time educating them on the training fields.

Elyan is afraid. Gwen came to him and said that she hasn’t seen Merlin all day, which means Merlin is avoiding the servants as well as the knights.

Gwaine is upset. Because he can’t find Merlin anywhere and the longer he stays away the worse he’s going to be when he comes back.

Arthur walks into his chambers at the end of the day and sees Merlin sitting on his bed.

He stuffs away the outrage at himself for not thinking to look here first, stuffs away the fear and sadness that Merlin is upset, stuffs away the need to order him to Gaius and have him looked over, and replaces it with a soft call of: “Merlin?”

“Sire.”

Oh, no.

“Hello, Merlin,” Arthur says softly, “can I come over to you?”

“If you like, sire.”

“I would.” Arthur crosses the room slowly, wary of Merlin’s reaction, until he can stop within arms’ reach. “Hello.”

“Hello.” Merlin looks up at him. “May I ask you for a favor, sire?”

“Of course, Merlin, anything you like.”

“…m-may I have a hug, please?”

Arthur’s heart shatters.

His face must do the wrong thing because Merlin flinches, withdrawing into himself. “I’m sorry, sire, that was rude of me to ask. I’ll leave you be, now.”

“No, no, no, Merlin,” Arthur stammers, “no, that’s not what I meant, stay, stay, Merlin, of course you can have a hug, come here, come here—“

He gathers Merlin into his arms, to his chest, wrapping him up as snugly as he can.

“You don’t need permission for a hug, Merlin, that’s why I was upset,” he mumbles, “I don’t want you to think you have to earn it, you don’t—“

It seems his ramblings, however embarrassing to him, are helping Merlin calm down. Or at least get over his fear enough to wrap his arms around Arthur too. Arthur squeezes him tight and is content to sit there for a moment to let Merlin have what he wants, but then he feels something tug at his chest.

Tug, tug, tug.

Arthur frowns, tries to tug back, only for the tugging to grow more insistent. He follows the tugging to scoop Merlin into his arms, carry him to the bed, and lie down beside him. As the tugging persists, he tucks Merlin’s head under his chin and pulls him closer, threading a leg through his. One last tug and oh, oh, he understands now.

“You’re not bad,” he murmurs, ruffling Merlin’s hair as he talks, “you’re not evil. You have magic, Merlin, that’s alright. You’re my Merlin. I don’t want a proper servant, I don’t want a normal servant, I want you. You’re my Merlin.”

There.

Whatever wall there is crumbles as Merlin begins to sob desperately into his chest. The tugging renews, guiding him this way, that way, to hold Merlin close, to pull back and let him gasp for breath, to murmur reassurances in his ear, or to roll a little and hold Merlin down as he seizes with the force of the cries.

And through it all, Merlin never stops asking for comfort.

His fingers never loosen their grip on Arthur’s shirt. His legs never let go of the one Arthur wraps through his. His nose never strays far from the crook of Arthur’s neck. He never stops pushing himself into Arthur’s chest, almost as if he’s trying to climb inside and make a home for himself there.

He already has one.

Arthur realizes the wordless asks and answers, holding him as tight as he wants, listening to the tugs in his chest to take care of his Merlin properly, never stops murmuring that yes, this is good, this is alright, Merlin can have whatever he wants, Arthur’s here, he’s here, he’ll take care of Merlin.

He’ll be here. He’ll always be right here.

After, Arthur will ask him softly about the tugs, and Merlin will blush and realize that his magic was asking for help when he couldn’t. Arthur will smile and ruffle his hair and tease him about his magic liking Arthur better than him. The smile will soften when Merlin shakily admits he’s thought the same thing.

After, Merlin will start asking for touch more. He’ll brush his hand against Lancelot’s, sit a little closer to Gwaine or Percival, start accompanying Elyan on his daily walks, or find himself reaching for Leon’s cloak only for Leon to bundle his hand in his and keep it safe.

After, Merlin will slide into bed the moment Arthur opens his arms, letting them both sleep in a little more and enjoy the feeling of warm, warm, warm.

But right now, Merlin is crying in Arthur’s arms and Arthur isn’t going anywhere.

He’ll always be right here.

#merlin #merlin bbc #bbc merlin #merthur #merthur fic #arthur pendragon #knights of camelot #dragonbabbles #fic

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anne-chloe · 4 years ago

Text

Always

Through her many losses over the years, Wanda is learning to accept her grief.

Wanda/F!Reader (Platonic)

Mentions of violence, blood and death // fluff, angst, platonic love between wanda and the reader

“Where’s Steve?”

Tony glanced up from his project, loose scraps of metal and trinket devices scattered around him, presenting him in a light that reminded you briefly of a compulsive hoarder. He blinked slowly before shrugging his shoulders in a disinterested manner.

“No clue, kid, sorry,” Tony answered in short, waving you off before returning back to his intense thoughts. His skilful fingers worked away at the technical objects, a skill that you often admired. Where Tony found comfort in fixing and creating, you were quite the opposite; you tend to break everything you touch, accidentally, of course.

You stepped out of his lab and wandered back into the main room of the compound, scratching the back of your neck in an obvious frustration. The super soldier had seemingly vanished since breakfast that morning, and to say you were concerned was an understatement.

Eventually, you found yourself pausing in the kitchen, where you spotted Wanda speaking quietly with Vision. The two stopped and glanced over as you began to approach, their conversation fading out as you greeted them with a smile.

“Did you find him?” Vision inquired, now turning half his attention to the diced onion scattered on the chopping board. He wordlessly scraped the vegetable into a frying pan, filling the room with a satisfying sizzle.

You shook your head. “Nope, the old guy seems to have disappeared,” you half heartedly joked, taking a seat at the breakfast counter opposite the duo. “But it can wait, I guess, it’s not overly important.”

Wanda moved around the counter and wrapped her arm around your shoulder, pulling you close into a hug. “Your family history is definitely interesting,” Wanda mused, her fingers tangling themselves into your hair, twirling and playing. You leaned into her touch, enjoying the comfort she brought.

Vision started to add chopped mushrooms, bell peppers, crushed garlic and tomatoes to the pan, all filling the air with a delightful smell. “It is highly possible that your grandfather served in the war alongside Mr. Rogers. Have you discovered any possible information that could link them?”

You sighed, beginning to feel doubtful. “No, but I’m aware Steve served in the same regiment that my grandfather did…”

“Might I ask why you want to know? Is it curiosity or desire for knowledge?”

You watched as Vision added some spices to the mix of whatever he was cooking. “I never knew much about my family growing up, but I recently found out that my grandfather passed away. I guess it would be nice to have a connection to something, especially since I was named on his will to inherit his farmhouse.”

“I see,” Vision hummed. He gestured for Wanda to taste his concoction by holding out a spoon; Wanda beamed and gave a supportive thumbs up, pleased with how the dish was turning out.

Tilting your head to the side, you fell quiet as you witnessed the genuine peace settling across her face. For the first time in a long time she was comfortable, and that very realisation made a loving warmth spread throughout your chest.

Later that night, while curled up in bed, you lay silent, staring thoughtfully at the ceiling. Everything was quiet, a comfortable quiet that allowed you to recollect yourself. And while you admired the patterns above your bed, you became aware of a person loitering outside your door.

Sitting up, you blinked slowly before flicking your wrist, opening the door with a small ‘click’. Light gushed in to your bedroom, spotlighting you as you squinted to see who it was.

A guilty smile crept up onto Wanda’s face before she entered your room, sheepishly shuffling across the floor in her fluffy slippers. You pulled the duvet back and welcomed her into your bed, wrapping your arms around her before snuggling underneath the covers.

“Your senses are getting better,” Wanda praised with a pleased gleam in her eyes. You chuckled softly, listening to the sound of the door closing again at your incredible willpower.

“Honestly, I had no idea it was you outside,” you admitted quietly.

Wanda’s finger tapped your nose. “And what if I had been a murderer?” She teased.

“A murderer in this building? Impossible,” you retaliated, setting off a shared bubble of giggles.

A comfortable silence fell over the two of you, and after a minute or so you closed your eyes, welcoming the safe feeling that Wanda offered while with you. The combined warmth of your bodies offered a peaceful opportunity to sleep, and with the past few busy months that had occurred, yourself and Wanda deserved it.

“We should run away together,” you murmured sleepily. Opening your eyes, you locked gazes with Wanda, waiting patiently for her response.

Through the darkness, you could see her smile. “Where would we go?”

“There’s this nice little farmhouse waiting for me in the countryside…”

You felt Wanda shift slightly. “We could have rocking chairs on the porch,” you added gently, your ears now burning red at the exciting idea. “And maybe a chicken coop.”

“We could have a dog and a cat,” Wanda interjected thoughtfully; you felt your heart skip a beat as she hopped onto your idea. “If there’s a stream near by, or a lake, imagine the picnics we could have during the summer season; or the comfort of sitting in front of the fireplace throughout the winter.”

“It’d be so cute having Bertie and Bobby curled up together in front of the fire,” you beamed.

“Bertie and Bobby?”

“Yeah, the dog and the cat.”

Piling cute ideas on top, one after the other, creating mundane scenarios with one another as the night began to creep onwards; you became aware of how much you loved being in Wanda’s presence. She truly was your best friend, your confidant. If anyone could understand you, it was her.

Like you, Wanda had suffered considerably growing up. Having lost her parents, to voluntarily being experimented on with the mind stone, to then losing her brother during the battle in Sokovia. Wanda was pretty much a mirror of yourself, battling through the worlds worst grievances.

To experience a normal life would mean the absolute world to the both of you, having no other choice but to grow up so fast in a world so cruel.

“_____?” Wanda whispered after your hushed giggled died down.

You hummed, feeling the drowsiness sink bank in. You blinked slowly, wishing for the fatigue to disappear, wanting to remain in this very moment for as long as possible.

“Thank you.”

“For what?” You asked softly.

“For loving me,” Wanda answered.

You couldn’t help but smile again. Awkwardly, you moved your hands around under the duvet before locating her hand; you squeezed her hand tightly, bringing your face close to hers before planting a kiss upon her forehead.

“Always.”

…

A chill raced up your spine as you stood defensively across from Tony, whom was clad in his Iron Man armour, an expression of disapproval obvious across his face.

You never thought you’d go against him, not like this, not when your team was supposed to be inseparable. But he’d betrayed the Avengers tenfold; in your eyes, he was turning his back against everything you were supposed to stand for. Without the Avengers better judgement, it would simply became another military asset.

That’s not what you signed up for.

“I’m disappointed in both of you, Wanda, _____.”

You scoffed, heart hammering inside your chest. You were hurt by his words, because Tony’s opinion mattered so much to you. He was there at the beginning of your unravel; he had supported you through the trials calling for your imprisonment, and he had stuck by your side every moment of every day. Countless times he had saved your life, and countless times had you returned such a favour.

“You don’t get to be disappointed, Stark,” you countered coldly, a tone so bitter and low that it felt horrible to use. “You turned your back on us - you tried to lock Wanda away!”

“I was protecting her! I was protecting you!” Tony shouted, exasperated. It was evident that he was frustrated, and underneath his eyes were deep, purple bags, an indication that this entire situation was losing him sleep.

“Protecting us? I think you need to look at a dictionary and improve your knowledge! That suits clearly gone to your head.”

It wasn’t long before a fight broke out. It was brutal; it felt wrong on every level imaginable. To be fighting your family was everything you stood against; you never thought this day would exist or happen, yet here you were, using your powers against the people you had grown to love and care for.

Firmly standing your ground, you aimed your hand at the nearest object - a car - and willed it to move into the air. Power surged through your body and into your fingertips, lighting your mind with excitement and thrill. It was heavy and took a lot of willpower, but you were able to send it crashing into the man clad in the Black Panther suit.

You turned on your heel and took off into the air, landing atop of the nearby aeroplane where you knew your advantage would be. Below, you could see all your friends engaged in some form of fight. Whether or not they were feeling regretful of their actions, you weren’t sure, you could only be positive of your own guilt and shame.

Sensing a trustful twitch in the back of your mind, you threw yourself to the ground as Spider-Man suddenly swept overhead. He landed a few feet away, catching himself before falling over the edge.

“And who are you supposed to be?” You hissed, feeing no attachment for this stranger. Standing to your own defence, you readied yourself for whatever could be thrown your way.

“I’m Spider-Man.” Your eyebrows shot upwards in genuine surprise at the childlike voice. Your stomach sank at the realisation that Tony had recruited a literal child; was he truly that desperate to capture yourself and the others, just to obey the Sokovia Accords?

“This isn’t your fight, kid,” you warned.

“Mr. Stark said—“

You shot out your hand and made a grabbing mimic, lifting Spider-Man into the air and interrupting him mid-sentence. A surprised shriek left his mouth as you dangled him over the edge, furthering him away from your advantage spot.

“Stark lies. Stay out of this fight, you have no reason to be here other than Tony’s desperation!”

Despite being his enemy, you were careful in lowering Spider-Man to the ground. You weren’t aware of his exact age, but you didn’t want to risk injuring a kid. It wasn’t fair bringing an innocent into a fight like this; he shouldn’t be troubling himself with a situation that could snatch away his future. This only made you all the more furious at Tony.

Steve and Bucky made a dash across the airport, followed closely by Sam and Clint. From your high position, you knew you’d be able to stop anything from stopping their getaway. You just had to be quick and not hesitate.

Your eyes locked on to Tony, Nat and Rhodey, who were all advancing towards Steve. You inhaled deeply and conjured as much power as possible to launch objects in their path, just to slow them down and buy your friends some time. It worked, for the most part; wiping out Tony and holding him back.

The Black Panther had his eyes set like sharp daggers on Bucky, a vengeful thirst driving his motivation to catch the Winter Soldier. You were skeptical about Bucky’s crimes and claim to fighting his way to a better life, but you trusted Steve and his judgement best.

As the Black Panther started to veer closer to Steve and Bucky, you intercepted by launching your body into him. You both tumbled off to the side and rolled across the concrete.

You smacked your head and heard a gruesome crack, and a moment of delirium washed over you. The sky swirled and the world danced in circles; your eyes remained unfocused and blurry as you stumbled and tripped to your feet, to your knees before you fell flat on your face again.

You shot out your hand and mimicked a swiping motion, knocking Rhodey off his feet and increasing Steve’s chance of escape. Even if you couldn’t escape with them, you knew what had to be done.

As Steve and Bucky vanished into the storehouse, where an aircraft waited for them, you realised Natasha was nowhere to be seen. A string of curses slipped through your gritted teeth as you attempted to stand again, not ready to lose against Tony.

Before you could make any advancements, within your peripheral vision, you spotted Wanda in a heap of trouble. Your heart hammered in anticipation as she fought with hesitated strength, and you knew that she felt the same as you did.

It wasn’t right fighting against your friends like this. Ideals and beliefs tearing the team apart so easily; yet, you understood why these things had to be done. Not only that but Bucky is a criminal whom needed to be trialed for his crimes, even if he wasn’t fully in control of his actions.

“Wanda! Behind you!” You shrieked, eyes snapping open in horror as she was tackled and pinned to the ground by Vision. He restrained her easily, and while she struggled against him for only a brief moment, you saw the fight leave her eyes as she caved.

Scrambling to your feet, you focused on Visions hands and forced them away from Wanda. A look of betrayal crossed his face, his eyes narrowing in distrust.

“Stop this, _____,” Vision demanded.

Your knees started to shake as the pressure set in. A dull throb spread throughout your head, and your eyes slowly started to blur. With the corners of your sight starting to darken, the world around you growing cold, you finally locked eyes with Wanda.

The faintest of smiles turned at her lips, her reassuring gaze urging you to relax. And you did; you released your hold on Vision and crumbled to your knees, panting and gasping for air. Wanda then mouthed, “it’s okay”.

It was over.

Just like that.

Tony and his team of traitors tore you from the airport and had you imprisoned in the intense safety of the RAFT. A place where powered individuals were locked away, the key thrown overboard; without mercy or empathy.

You curled yourself into a tight ball and stared aimlessly at the wall, lost in your thoughts, trapped with only the doubtful voice that mimicked your every insecurity.

Across from you was Wanda’s cell. She looked exhausted, like she had given up hope. Eventually, when her gaze turned to yours, at the same time, you both offered the tiniest smile, a reassurance that you were both in this situation together, no matter what.

Wanda placed her forehead against the glass and mouthed, “thank you for loving me.”

And you mouthed back, “always.”

…

As battle cries rang out across Wakanda, you found yourself lost in the heat of war. Crossing the field in the fastest sprint you could muster, you launched yourself into the air and knocked into one of Thanos’ children.

You both bounced and tumbled across the dirt floor, rolling far. There, you scurried to your feet and directed your attention onto their hands; weapons clutched tightly and pulled back to strike. You ducked and dodged, fighting back with as much force as you could manage.

With every punch you lay on them, they kicked back tenfold. You didn’t escape each small fight unscathed or unharmed. Blood trickled from fresh wounds, mixing with the sweat and dirt that gathered in lumps across your clothes and skin. But you knew you couldn’t stop, not even when your legs ached and screamed for you to stop.

You slid across the floor and tackled another beast, your hand motioning to grab and tear apart your target. It screamed and shrieked a shrill noise, one that made your ears ring, but you lacked the mercy to stop and consider your actions. It was either them or you.

Thanos was on a bloodthirsty mission for the Infinity Stones; whatever reason he desired them, you were uncertain, but you had been summoned to assist the broken-band of Avengers in their desperate attempts to stop him before irreversible damage could be caused.

The battle raged on, seemingly never ending. Both sides took heavy damage, but neither teams showed signs of surrender.

And then it slowed down.

The world grew darker and darker, and the floor drew closer at an alarmingly fast pace. Your head bounced against the floor, a shrill ringing drowning out the noise of battle around you. Your eyes, unfocused and teary, scanned the world for some kind of answer as a strange sensation expanded in your chest.

There was shouting; incoherent and loud, closer and farther away. You zoned in and out, an odd sense of calm flooding your senses while the sky turned brighter and warmer. Your body temperature dropped considerably, and suddenly the ache in your legs vanished.

Panicked, Natasha scooped you into her arms and dragged you as far as she could from the battle field. A string of reassurances fell from her mouth, hands soaked in blood, a mix of yours, hers and theirs. She fumbled uselessly and attempted to slow the bleeding from the gaping hole in your chest.

“Stay with me, _____! Stay with me!” Natasha aggressively demanded, her eyes often flickering towards the dangers around her, and back to the fading life underneath her. She couldn’t afford to lose you, not like this.

And as your eyes fluttered shut for the last time, your final thoughts drifted to Wanda.

Beautiful, brilliant, Wanda.

…

“Bertie! Bobby! Dinner!” You bellowed into the grassy field, hands clapping together as the twin golden retriever dogs bolted through the garden.

You could hardly see their heads in the blades of grass, but their pants and friendly grumbles assured you of their obedience and loyalty for their promised dinner. You loudly praised the dogs as they ushered past your form, straight into the farmhouse where their meals awaited.

You chuckled and turned, ready to close the door. However, you paused as something caught your attention at the end of your drive. A figure, distant and unmoving, watching you from afar. You blinked and faced them, the hairs on the back of your neck standing on edge.

“_____?”

Wanda.

A grin spread across your face as you darted down the porch with arms spread open wide. You captured Wanda in a tight hug, both of you collapsing to the ground in a heap of relieved laughs and happiness.

“It’s been too long!” You exclaimed after a minute of giggling. You both sat up, unbothered for the grass stains now marking your jeans. You cupped Wanda’s face lovingly and placed a kiss upon her forehead.

“I… I missed you,” Wanda confessed softly, her eyes filling with tears. “You look so healthy— amazing!”

You cast Wanda a strange look. “Missed me? We saw one another last week.”

Wanda began to stumble over her words, a deep red covering her ears. You laughed and poked her nose, and a nostalgic smile spread across her face in awe. “Come on, let’s go inside.”

Before you could stand and lead her into your home, Wanda grasped your hand and held you still. You turned to face her, brows furrowing as confusion marked your expression, and it suddenly dawned on you of the sad, glossy tears in her eyes.

You reached out and cupped her cheeks, examining the saddening smile upon her face. “What’s the matter, Wanda?” You softly asked, your thumb gently stroking her cheek, wiping away an escaped tear.

Her hand reached up and grazed your fingers. The touch was gentle, almost like she was admiring you. But what for? She’d not long been with you; a week ago you had both enjoyed some tea and cake inside your kitchen, living in the moment, carefree and young.

“You died, _____.”

Your nose scrunched upwards before a dry laugh escaped your throat. “Very funny, Wanda.”

But Wanda didn’t laugh. She didn’t confess to her joke, nor did she attempt to crack a jestering smile. You pulled your hands away, suddenly feeling a cold chill rush up your spine.

“What are you talking about? I’m right here,” you muttered. You folded your arms across your front, hugging your limbs close in an attempt to stay warm. What happened to the warm sun? It had vanished behind those red clouds in the distance.

“Five years ago,” Wanda explained, her voice unstable and brittle. She seemed to have trouble speaking, and with the added tears rolling down her face, you found it nearly impossible to detect a lie within her words. “Thanos’ children stabbed your heart. You died in Natasha’s arms.”

As if fazed by her words, a dull, phantom ache spread inside your chest. It wasn’t painful, but there was a brief explosion of pins and needles. You winced, stepping back, disbelief setting in.

“Why are you saying these things?”

Wanda’s bottom lip trembled. “Because they’re true.”

You defiantly shook your head. “No, no they’re not. I’m standing right here, Wanda. Look! I’m real! I’m not dead! Look at me!”

“I have memories from the past five years! How would I have those if I had died?” You challenged bitterly.

“Because I gave you those memories!” Wanda snapped, stepping forwards and grasping your shoulders tight. She shook you slightly, trying to force some sense into you.

“Wanda—“

“What do you remember of our fight against Thanos and his children? What do you remember from Wakanda?”

You glanced between Wanda’s eyes, desperately searching for something to make sense of the situation. But all you could find was sadness; there wasn’t any frustration or irritation present, it was just anguish and despair.

You thought back to the battle in Wakanda, and you quickly found yourself doubting the outcome of events. What had actually happened? Your mind became hazy, filled with thoughts that felt so unreal and false.

“I fought beside Natasha…” you slowly confessed. “We were protecting Vision from Thanos, because he wanted the Mind Stone.”

“And?”

“And…”

But you couldn’t speak anymore. You stopped completely. Drawing blanks and endings that didn’t match, your memory ended there, leaving you an empty vessel with nothing more to say. Wanda understood your silence for realisation, and she knew you had finally pushed away her false reality.

You blinked rapidly, your arms unfolding and your hand pressing gingerly against your chest, where a gaping hole should have been. You could remember the indescribable pain that you had suffered in your final moments; the way Natasha held you close and begged you to stay alive.

“… and I died,” you whispered.

Wanda nodded stiffly. She lowered her gaze, hiding her shame away from you.

“How am I here?” You asked quietly.

A tear rolled down Wanda’s cheek. “I created you.”

Your eyes wandered to the sky, where you finally noticed the abnormality of the red shade. It was like blood, a river racing far and wide across the universe. This wasn’t your reality; how could you have been so blind to this moment?

“Why?”

“Because I missed you.”

Your gaze trailed back to Wanda. She remained still and tense, unmoving as she accepted what she had done.

Inhaling deeply, you let out a small sigh. Holding out your hand, you grasped hers and laced your fingers together, bringing her close and resting your forehead against hers. She sniffled loudly while fighting back a sob, and it took all your willpower to not burst into tears.

A golden glow began shining around your body, a lightweight feeling taking over. It was euphoric and blissful; you felt at peace and somewhat free. For the first time in a long time, you were calm and prepared to die.

“Hey, Wanda?” You mumbled.

Wanda hiccuped, “yes?”

You smiled and pulled away, eyes naturally locking with hers.

“Thank you.”

Her face scrunched in confusion. “What for?” She asked.

“For loving me.”

And as the red started to fade in the sky, a blissful blue taking its place; your body started to fade away. Tiny golden swirls danced and glistened under the daytime sun, swishing and vanishing in the blades of grass.

The farmhouse began to fade, too, disappearing into thin air.

Before you could completely disappear, Wanda released an almighty wail of despair, her hands grasping the air in a futile attempt to make you stay.

And as her reality faded, so did you.

Wanda sobbed and crumbled to the ground, holding close her hands to her chest. Looking upwards to the sky, where the final specs of golden dust lingered high above, she mustered out a final farewell.

“Always.”

#avengers #Wanda #wandavision #female reader #telekinesis #scarlet witch #CACW #infinity war #avengers age of ultron #one shot #angst #fluff #Elizabeth olsen #mind stone #supernatural abilities

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dragonologist-in-the-making · 5 years ago

Text

Way Out of His League

Pairing: James Potter x Reader

Request: Hiii, could you write a James or Sirius x reader where he thinks she's way out of his league because she's so reserved but confident and smart and also kinda airy and daydreamer like Luna?? Platonic at first but then they date? Thank you🖤🖤🖤

A/N: Thank you Anon, hope you like!! Writing a Luna-esque character is pretty hard, so I tried to just take a couple of the traits and focus on those.

Wordcount: 1k

...

James Potter was not in love with Lily Evans. Yes, he pestered her for a date, and gave her constant attention, but she and all his friends knew that it was just a show, and he actually had feelings for someone else. If anyone paid attention to James Potter for a day, maybe even less, it wouldn’t be hard to tell that he was head over heels for (y/n) (y/l/n), a girl he believed to be way out of his league.

She was everything he admired. She was confident, confident enough that Sirius’ shameless flirting didn’t bother her at all, and she was quick to quip a similar comment back to him, confident enough to be championing a cause she knew was unpopular, something that she would be laughed at. She was confident in her truth, unafraid and unashamed to tell a situation how it was, uncaring if it brought about an awkward situation. She was unwaveringly friendly, giving everyone a chance to prove themselves, and being wholly forgiving to those who did laugh at her, having no patience or time in her life to hold on to resentment. These were all qualities that James admired about her, and they were qualities that the other Marauders had heard about countless times.

“She’s just so out of my league.” He sighed wistfully as his friends campaigned yet again to get him to ask her out. “I’m nothing compared to her.”

“Yeah, sure.” Sirius sighed, taking some chocolate from Remus who glared at him but didn’t do anything to stop him. “You’re nothing. You’re not Captain of a Quidditch team which is doing extremely well this season, one of the most accomplished chasers the school has seen in a while. You’re not smart, you don’t top most of your classes. You’re not a great friend, helping Moony every month. Sure, she’s great, but don’t forget who you are, Prongs.” With a reassuring pat on his shoulder, Sirius stood up, Remus and Peter beside him, James joining them to go to their next lesson.

“You’re right, maybe I’ll just talk to her.” James agreed, a new confidence thanks to Sirius’ words.

Potions passed pretty uneventfully. She was in the class too, and was brewing a potion Slughorn seemed to be very impressed with as he circled the room. At the sight of her, James could feel his confidence ebbing away again. The lesson ended, and everyone headed back towards their common rooms, it being the end of the day. The boys had gone ahead of him as he had more to pack away and didn’t want to hold them up, but as he was catching up to them he heard her voice calling his name. He froze, slowly turning around to see her almost flying to him, hair streaming behind her, either oblivious or uncaring to the stares she was being given.

“James.” She breathed, having finally reached him. Seeing as he was still rooted to the spot, she gestured for them to keep walking, and he robotically put one foot in front of the other. “I was just wondering if you could help me.” She asked, getting his full attention immediately. “I’m struggling with the theory side of potions, and I know you’ve been getting excellent marks all year, and I wanted to ask if you could help me, talk me through some of it in a way that’s easier to understand than the textbooks.” He felt elated that she was asking for his help, that she had paid attention to recognise his intelligence, and to value it enough to ask for him to share it. He immediately agreed, and she beamed at him. “Excellent! See you in the library after dinner.” As she walked away, not waiting for his response, he smiled to himself, some of his confidence creeping back in at this small sign that maybe she had been watching him too.

Dinner went quickly, and before he knew it James was in the library, where he spotted (y/n) already sitting at a table, hands running through her hair as she stared at the potions textbook in front of her.

“Hey, stop looking at that.” James spoke up as he sat in the empty seat next to her, pulling the textbook away and closing it with one hand, whilst his other reached to pull her hands out of her hair. The gesture came naturally to him, without even thinking, but once he realised what he had done he felt a shock radiate through him.

They stayed in the library, talking about potions, but letting the conversation drift fairly often to anything but, as they got to know each other a lot more. They didn’t realise how much time had passed until Madam Pince came and hurried them out, saying they were close to curfew and needed to get back to their common rooms. James returned to his dorm, thinking of the time they had next agreed to study and the time they had just spent together, a smile on his face.

These study sessions carried on for a few weeks, each time the two of them getting to know the other a little better. Another night where they were ushered out of the library and he knew that he was falling deeper and deeper, and had no choice but to do what Sirius had been trying to push him into doing all this time.

“(y/n)?” He asked, her turning to face him with an expression that wore nothing but curiosity at what he had to say. “I was just wondering if you would maybe like to go on a date with me. To Hogsmead maybe?” He rambled, tripping over his words as he felt his face on fire.

“Sure, James, I would love that.” She smiled as they began their trip back from the library. “It means I can actually focus on improving my potions work now, instead of being distracted by you.” She laughed, and he could hardly believe what he was hearing.

“I don’t know, I can be pretty distracting.” He replied cheekily, swinging an arm over her shoulders as she laughed brightly at his words.

#harry potter #harry potter fic #marauders #marauders era #james potter #james #potter #james potter x reader #james x reader #prongs #prongs x reader #request

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redhairedtimelord · 4 years ago

Text

The Nightmare of a Timelord - Tenth Doctor Reader Insert

You comfort The Doctor after a nightmare

Hurt/comfort, gender neutral reader, I wrote it as platonic but it can be read as romantic.

Warning: brief mention of the use of needles for medicinal purposes.

You awoke to the sound of beeping and whirring. Squinting up at the ceiling you saw a conglomeration of lights; purples, blues, golds all dancing around the room. The floor was cold under your bare feet as you padded to the back of the door to put on your dressing gown. You looked up at the strange lights again, they all seemed to gather at the door. Opening it, your eyes followed them as they trailed down the corridor.

‘What is it, what are you trying to tell me?’ you asked the TARDIS softly. She only hummed and beeped in response. Intrigued, you followed the trail. They led to a door, a door that you recognised. But the Doctor’s bedroom isn’t here, you thought, it’s next to the library. She must be moving the architecture to get me here, but why? And as though she could read your thoughts, which you uncomfortably reminded yourself that she can, the Tardis beeped, encouraging you to step inside.

Tentatively, you pushed the door open. It was immediately clear why the TARDIS was so keen to bring you here. There was the Doctor, writhing and shouting things you couldn’t make out. Sheets tangled around him like vines, some having left imprints on his skin which made him look horribly scarred.

You had seen The Doctor in so many ways from all your travels with him. You had seen him be so childish and laugh until he couldn’t stand up straight, you had seen him in his age, his wisdom and his weariness. You had seen him angry, the oncoming storm, his rage so palpable that it seemed to radiate from him.

But you had never seen him so helpless.

‘Doctor?’

You grabbed his shoulders in an attempt to steady him.

‘NO! STOP IT! PLEASE, I’LL DO ANYTHING!’ he screamed.

It was unbearable.

‘Doctor!’

Shooting upwards, the Doctor was suddenly awake, eyes darting around the room and panting, terrified.

You gently took his face in your hand and guided it towards your own. Placing your other hand on his chest you breathed heavily and slowly, encouraging him to do the same. His terrified brown eyes met yours and your heart wrenched. As his breathing slowed there was a change in his eyes; the initial fear had gone and had left only sadness in its wake.

‘It’s my fault.’ He croaked. The nearly not-there sound an awful contrast to his shouting.

‘No, it’s not.’ You breathed, holding back tears.

The Doctor buried his head on your shoulder and hugged you around the middle. You could feel his tears soaking through your pyjamas.

‘I’m so sorry. It’s all my fault. I couldn’t save them.’

‘Shhhh, it’s ok, it’s ok.’ You tried to reassure him, stroking your hands through his hair.

You wondered what had plagued his dreams. Was it the loss of Gallifrey or perhaps another planet that he couldn’t save? What horrors could possibly haunt the nightmares of a Time Lord?

After a while, the Doctor finally spoke. He lifted up his head but avoided meeting your eyes.

'Go to the med bay.’ His voice hoarse, barely a whisper. ‘The supply room, on the top shelf, there's a bottle of purple liquid. Get a needle too.'

You nodded.

You entered the med bay and made your way straight to the supply room: a labyrinth of various bottles and powders, even tanks of small luminous swarms. Many of these remedies were familiar to you and as you searched the shelves you were reminded of fond memories of the countless times that you and The Doctor had patched each other up after a perilous adventure.

Just as you thought that it would be impossible to find this vial among the cluttered shelves, a golden beam of light appeared which illumined an ancient looking bottle with Gallifreyan writing on the label.

'Thanks girl.'

You reached up and upon closer inspection you realised that there was hardly any of the purple liquid left. You grabbed a needle from the draw and made your way back to The Doctor.

Gingerly, you pushed the door open. The Doctor was sitting up in bed, his head in his hands and his beautiful hair upended.

'Doctor?'

He dragged his hands down his face and silently took the supplies from you. He moved with surprising ease and precision as he drew the substance out through the needle and located a vein in his arm. You averted your eyes as he administered it. The effect was immediate, and he began to fall backwards. It happened so fast you could do nothing but throw your arms around him and ease him down onto the pillows.

***

The next morning your mind was troubled by the events of the night. The thing that burdened you the most was how little of the purple substance was left in the bottle. How many nights had The Doctor spent like that? How many times did he endure it alone? You wondered if his dream was about Gallifrey or perhaps another planet that he couldn’t save. Your heart lurched at the thought of the weight he must carry; all those lives he blamed himself for losing.

You didn’t quite know how to act as you walked into the console room. The Doctor had exposed a part of himself that you had never seen before, and you didn’t quite know how to approach him.

You caught a glimpse of The Doctor. He was in his blue suit and was leaning against one of the branch-like structures, tall and thin like an evening shadow. A terrible emptiness in his gaze told you that his mind was far away. But only for a second. As soon as he saw you his entire demeanour changed.

‘So!’ he bounded around the console and began to press various buttons and levers. ‘There is a burst of star fire, right now, off the coast of Metasighnafolia. The sky is like oil on water! Or, back in time. We could meet, oh I don’t know, Charles the Second? Henry the Eighth? I know – Jane Austen! I’d love to meet Jane Austen, I bet she’s brilliant.’ He looked up at you with a smile that soon died upon his face, the slight red in his eyes the only sign of the night before.

You looked at each other for a moment, the familiar humming of the TARDIS filling the silence. You couldn’t think of any words that could address the helplessness that you felt and your awe at his stoicism. That man was so like the galaxy, so full of wonder and beauty yet filled with secrets.

‘Oh, and thank you’

A glimmer of light had appeared in his eyes again.

You smiled at him.

‘Onwards?’

‘Onwards.’

***

Please let me know what you think! This is my first fic so I’m quite nervous about posting

Thank you @tenandcrowley for proofreading

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quixotic-writer · 4 years ago

Text

Bermuda Love Triangle

Request: @gionline and anon(s?)

Summary: Flirting between Sal and Q had always been a little quirky joke between them for entertainment value until they both catch feelings. Sal plays it up, Q plays it off. When Sal seemingly moves on though, jealousy brews in Q and he doesn’t know what else to do but finally say what’s on his mind.

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Truth be told, Q was a bit of an idiot. He was well aware of this and knew it often caused him to get into situations he sometimes couldn’t escape from. There was nothing he was more oblivious to than emotions. He was more specifically blind to romantic feelings, be it his own or others.

The moment he heard about vulquinn, he and Sal both played it up for their audience just for the reactions and their own personal entertainment. The need to always be right next to each other at live shows, their own podcast filled with inside jokes and personal stories, the way they managed to communicate through only their eyes, and the countless compliments and jokes about being romantically involved with the other.

‘If chicks can do it and be simply best friends, why can’t we?” Was his thought process. And it was true, it was just simple little gestures to one another that was merely just platonic affection. That was until it started bleeding into their regular life and the pair found themselves doing their little “act” for an audience that was non-existent around them. There was no one to get a good laugh or reaction out of, so they just tried to laugh it off.

Hidden behind those laughs was a realization within Sal that he had actually started falling for his best friend hard and fast. The flirtation slowly didn’t become an act, it melded into meaningful gestures. He found that his heart would race when Q would wrap an arm around him to bring him closer, when they made eye contact he could feel the butterflies burst from their cocoons into his stomach and tickle his throat, and the way that no matter where they would, the flirting never stopped. It all felt so real and he believed it was real too.

Q felt the effects of it all but had chocked it up to typical feelings for your best friend. Everyone felt comfortable with the thought of kissing their best friend… right? Cuddling your best friend during a scary movie and letting them hide in your arms was totally normal, all simply platonic… right? So on he kept saying how Sal was his “best friend,” little did he know exactly how much it hurt Sal to hear them being only that title and never anything more. Sal kept quiet about his feelings and never said anything not wanting to destroy or lose everything the two had built up.

One tour though, the tides quickly changed and shifted.

“Bri! This is Chris Distefano, he’s gonna be an opener for our shows!” Sal introduced Chris to Q. In that moment he got a look at this guy, he thought he looked way better than him and Q felt something inside of him coil up and make him sick. He passed it off as some nerves from being around someone new, so he remained civil and made his best attempt to make a good impression on this guy.

As the tour progressed, Q noticed that Sal wasn’t attached at his hip so much anymore. He was busy chatting things up with Chris. What he saw had made this fire ignite in his head, a jackhammer was what it felt like. He saw Sal leaning up against him, crying tears of laughter, hands folded over his stomach pushing out more laughs, and Chris in the same condition as the other. Q had thought he was one of the few people that could get Sal to laugh like that, and seeing Chris effortlessly do something he thought only he could do made him unreasonably upset.

As he lay in his bunk on the tour bus, Q couldn’t help but wonder: ‘What is going on with me? Why do I feel like this? I should be happy he’s making other friends.’ He barely got sleep that night and he was a total drag up until they were called up onto stage for their next show.

“Hey babe!” Q had never whipped his head around so fast at the sound of the familiar voice and he almost thought he was gonna get whiplash or pull something. As it turned out, Sal’s words were yet again not to him, but to Chris instead who greeted Sal with a wide smile and a warm hug. Q didn’t realize his jaw and fists were clenched so tight until Murr had pointed it out and he allowed it to relax and all the pressure in his head eased a bit and his hand stopped throbbing.

“Just a bit of pre show nerves, heard it’s gonna be a big crowd tonight.” He lied through his teeth and to himself too.

Tour had come to a close leaving Q within the four walls that he had grown familiar too along with the silence that accompanied it. He was finally able to have time to self reflect and really think about what was going on with him. It had been so long since he had even felt this strongly about anyone in his life and for so long he had kept trying to tell himself that everything they did was strictly platonic and nothing more. But Q seeing Sal with someone who was, in his opinion, much more attractive than him and doing basically everything that they used to do together had flipped the switch that this wasn’t just simple friend jealousy.

“Fuck…” He said out loud to himself, “I’m in love with my fucking best friend.” He finally admitted it out loud and buried his face in his hands as his cats nuzzled around him demanding immediate attention. Q’s head felt like it was spinning, he felt almost sick. “Why am I so stupid?!” Mentally beating himself up for not realizing things and sorting it out sooner. Now that he finally realized what that feeling was, jealousy, every other emotion attached had felt so much more intense. Magnified even. He had called Sal for lunch to get together.

“Maybe Chris could join us?” Sal asked curiously.

“Can't just be us?” Q said in quick opposition and realized he sounded like a jealous boyfriend without actually being his boyfriend, “I mean, we haven’t had a day with just us in a while.” He quickly back paddled and covered those secret emotions.

When the day rolled around, he convinced himself that he would finally confess everything. All he wanted was to finally have it all out in the open and hold nothing back. It felt weird keeping secrets from his best friend. Everything was going great, they were catching up on some things, sharing some little life updates, and as always they shared a few good laughs and stories.

“You know Q it’s great we had this day because I have exciting news that I wanna share with you! You’ll be one of the first to hear it.” Sal sat across from him in the booth they were in and had a big beaming smile plastered on his face. He looked as thorough if he didn’t get whatever it was out in that moment, he was just gonna implode.

“Well i’d love to hear what the news is!”

“Chris and I are starting a podcast together!” Q’s stomach sunk like the titanic. It felt painful and he knew he couldn’t mask any of his emotions after trying to build himself up. Sal quickly picked up on all of it and could read Q’s signals well, “Is there something wrong with me doing that Bri? I can read you like a book. You’ve been acting strange lately, what’s going on?” Q doesn’t know what came over him, but his emotions swirled him like a tornado and consumed everything.

“What’s going on? Sal, I know you’re smarter than this.” He forces a chuckle as he rubs his forehead staring down at the table. Sal had an inkling as to what it was, but he wanted to hear it out of Q.

“I don’t think I know what you mean…”

“For god’s sake Sal I like you okay! More than a friend should. Seeing you with Chris… It just…” There it was. The confession. But, for some reason it made Sal mad. All this time, the hints he kept dropping, the countless moves he tried to make. Only when Sal started taking interest in someone else did Q finally show up and show out what he had been wanting for so long.

“Does it make you jealous Brian?” Something about the way Sal said his name made it feel like his veins were wrapped tight around his neck and were suffocating him. “Only now that i’ve started showing interest in someone else do you care. I liked you too, okay?! But you couldn’t be bothered to notice my desperate hints. You just kept throwing ‘friend’ and ‘buddy’ around so I just gave up trying to win you over.” Guilt riddled Q and he felt paralyzed in that moment.

“Sal, i’m just so stupid.”

“Yeah, you are.” Both of them knew Sal didn’t mean it, but it still stung Q like a jellyfish wrapped around his leg. “I’m tired of the mind games Brian.” His head hung low as Sal left without another word. More than ever, Q had felt like the biggest clown in the circus he called his life. He tried to finish eating his food, but all he could do was pick around at it and wallow in his own self pity. By the time he left the diner, he came to the conclusion that this discussion wasn’t done and shouldn’t be left where it was.

He had made his way over to Sal’s house, approaching the front door and about to hit the doorbell

“Q?” All motions come to a quick halt as he turns around to see Chris standing there. He feels the jealousy and anger slowly building again, “What are you doing at Sal’s man?”

“What are you doing here?” It was a little sharper than he intended to sound.

“I asked you first!”

“And I asked you second!” He didn’t want to dish out any info about him and Sal, especially to the guy that Sal’s found a new interest in. Chris takes a deep breath, looking at Q with almost hurt eyes.

“Do you hate me or something? You just seemed to not want to be around me, especially on that tour. What did I do?” Before saying anything else, Q takes a moment to step back before making another mistake he’ll regret. Chris stood there with hands in his pockets waiting for an answer.

“Listen, I don’t hate you. Guess I was just getting a little jealous…” He admits not giving away too many details as he rubs the back of his neck. Looking at Chris though, he could tell he was able to piece some things together with that sentence alone. A moment of clarity hit him.

“Of me and Sal?”

“You just seem to make him happier than I have, you’re a lot more attractive than me… like honestly really attractive…” Q was trailing off and slowly understood Sal’s attraction to Chris.

“Don’t be like that, you’re quite the looker yourself babe.” Q’s cheeks rose in heat and he found it a bit hard to speak.

“You just seem to make him happier and get him to laugh really hard. Guess I let jealousy get the best of my emotions. Maybe… Maybe it’s better he has you. I should… I should just go.” Q began backing away from the door and was gonna leave, but Chris placed a hand to his chest and stopped him.

“Funny, it’s you I should be jealous of. Not gonna lie, I am interested in Sal but he told me he liked you, Q.”

“Wait what? When did he say that?”

“When… we got back from the tour..?”

“Well he just got done telling me he liked you. That’s actually why i’m here.” They both stood there in silence for a moment looking at each other. Their eyes wandered to Sal’s front door, then back again to one another. In a mirrored movement they both went right to the door and rang the doorbell. Footsteps grew louder as they got closer, the door unlocked and cracked open.

“Chris!” Sal said with a smile. Chris moved his hand out opening the door more to reveal to Sal that he had more than one visitor and his eyes grew wide. “And… Q…”

“You’ve got quite a bit of explaining Sally.” Q said with a devilish smirk as Sal broke out into a nervous sweat. When Sal looked to Chris, he wore a similar smirk.

“Yeah, babe. Let’s get to the bottom of this, shall we?”

#what would their ship name even be??????#Sal x Chris x Q #sal vulcano #brian quinn #chris distefano #suki writes #angst #only a little bit though

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