#do you hear yourselves and the glaring contradictions?

[explode-this]

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[toska-writes]

This is from an anon which I loved! It was just a tad too long to add here!

“Dog Days”

Read here on Ao3 (✩)

Summary: for the first time in a long long time your feeling under the weather- it works out well though that you have 6 people that will make you feel much better

Pairing: The bad batch x GN padawan reader (Platonic with every member of the batch)

Warning: Needles only in one spot Mentions of being sick/ throw up- nothing that graphic really

Word count: 1627

Notes: This ask was so well written and honestly I couldn’t stop thinking about it! (Be ready for a bunch of Cody stories coming up- I have many asks for him)

“It would be wise if you both weren’t so close to them.” Tech walked into the room again scrolling through his data pad quickly. “It’s unprovable but you both could still become ill yourselves.”

You felt Crosshair shift under you for a moment and then put a hand carefully on your shoulder. “I’ll take my chances.”

“Me too!” Omega chimed in as snuggled closer into your side.

Tech sighed for a moment before walking over to the trio and placed a hand to your forehead.

“I’ve spent all morning trying to figure something out to contradict the illness, nothing so far.”

Crosshair glared at his older brother for a moment. “While your doing that why don’t you keep it down.” The words barely scraped pass his teeth. “I was hoping that they’d be falling asleep.”

“Don’t worry Cross I don’t think I could go to sleep at all.” Your groggy voice sounded muffled as you dug your throbbing face closer into Crosshair.

To be honest you haven’t been able to sleep all night to this morning. Stomach pains and throwing up have made sure of that.

Not braking eye contact with whatever he was reading Tech got up and started to walk to the cockpit before he looked over his shoulder.

“Omega Hunter is looking for you.”

“Awe.” Displeased she started to get up and out of the bunk you all were laying in. “But I want to stay and make sure they’re alright.”

“Believe me Omega I’m not going anywhere.” You spoke between coughs as you felt her get up and walk out the darkened room with Tech.

Crosshair returned the blanket over your shoulders and slid down the wall he was currently leaning back on.

Moments or hours could have passed, you couldn’t tell as your eyes tried to flutter shut but was interrupted by various things.

You didn’t hear when Echo entered the room or even when he crouched near the edge of the bunk.

“Hey Y/N.” Your eyes snapped to him for a second realizing he was with you too. “I brought you some soup that hopefully you’ll be able to keep down.”

You went to sit up for a moment and felt Echo help you up so you still leaned against Crosshair. Looking back at him you saw his head bob down and soft snores were coming from Crosshair’s mouth.

“Thanks Echo.” You whispered as you rubbed your eyes.

“Of course, you know this meal always use to make me feel better whenever I was under the weather.”

You smiled to yourself slightly as Echo came and sat next to you on the bunk; soup in his hand. “Fives sounds like a great guy.” Without knowing your head swayed slightly down and rested onto Echos cold shoulder.

“He is.” Was all he responded before bringing a spoon to your mouth. “Of course I’m no cook but you couldn’t possibly mess up this recipe.”

The soup danced happily on your tastebuds, the flavor was comforting enough where you didn’t have to worry about it staying in your stomach for a short period of time.

“Wow that is really good.” You whispered again, of course not being able to have real food in a matter of a few days made you a little biased but it was delicious nonetheless.

The bowl was emptied in a matter of minutes, you were unbelievably grateful for Fives’ amazing feel better soup.

“Here let me get Crosshair up so you could try and get some rest.” Echo spoke softly as he quietly got up from his spot.

“Let him sleep a little more at least.” Your hand shook as you reached out for Echo. The night before neither of you got a wink of sleep, Crosshair would doubt it if asked, but his eyes burned this morning from staying awake all night just in case anything happened. It eased you last night knowing he was there.

You could make out Echo nodding before exiting the room again, light barley flooded in as you saw a much bigger silhouette walk into the room.

“Aye there kid.” Wrecker wasn’t the best a whispering. Crosshair shifted slightly against you as you tried to lay you both down so Cross wouldn’t have to sleep sitting up.

Wrecker patted your head for a moment when you got situated then added. “You know I just thought Lula could help ya feel better.”

You could only smile to yourself despite how you felt as the soft material made its way into your arms. “It’s a bummer being sick but Lula was always there for me so I thought-“

“Thank you Wreck, I feel better already.” Brining Lula tightly in your arms and under your chin you could make out the smile of Wrecker.

“Sleep well with her.” Wrecked fixed your blanket as well and tried his best to walk quietly out of the room.

Crosshair moved around once again and brought an arm over your torso. “He’s so unbelievably loud.” He murmured slightly, the words still laced with sleep.”

You rolled yours eyes slightly burying your head into the pillow bellow you. “Mmm.” You replied slightly as you were racked with coughs. However this time you could finally close your eyes to sleep.

Sweat soaked your body as you quickly sat up to the displeasure of the headache that pierced your skull. You didn’t know how long you were asleep or if your were in the same bunk as before.

“Woah woah kids it’s ok.” You looked around for a moment as your eyes landed on Hunter, his hands placed on your heaving shoulders. “I just came to check up on you, good timing I guess.”

Leaning forward slightly you crashed into the shoulder of the sergeant that was kneeled in front of you. “It’s gross in here, I don’t wanna get Cross sick.”

“I gotcha I gotcha.” One hand rubbed over your back beige scooping you into his arms. Before you felt the bed leave from under you you quickly grabbed hold of Lula and brought her close to you.

The lights of the marauder were quite bright compared to where you were laying all day, however the sun had already set behind the widow as you were brought into the cockpit.

Hunter left your side for a moment then returned seconds later as you felt a cool cloth pressed to your forehead.

As you adjusted your eyes met the worried ones of Hunter. The sweat from the fever poured down your face but the cloth helped enough to put you at ease.

“Sorry Hunter.” You could see the discomfort along the fine features of his face as he tried to mask them.

“What are you talking about kid? You got nothing to worry about.” You knew he was lying, his senses were probably flaring up with the sickness you had. It made sense why you didn’t see him for a portion of the morning.

Omega was at his side along with Tech holding some sort of medical equipment.

“Feeling better Y/N.” The curious girl asked parking herself at your side yet again. If you were at 100 percent you would be able to practically feel the worry pouring off of her, but your senses were dulled.

“Yeah Omega I am.” You answered before looking at Tech. He patted Hunter on the shoulder as Tech motions to the control panel.

“This should help you to feel better in no time.” Tech said matter-of-factly. “However it does come in the only form of a shot.”

At this point you’d do anything to get over this feeling. You slightly nodded your head as Omega grabbed onto your hand. She could understand and knew why you didn’t like needles and she made sure you were comforted as Tech quickly stuck it into you shoulder.

“I would suggest more rest for you now until tomorrow morning when we’ll have to give you another injection.” Tech helped you up slightly.

“Why don’t you stay in my room?” Omega perked up taking your other arm around her shoulder.

Both you and Tech nodded as you made your way to the little nook that was transformed into a room just for the girl.

Omega pilled blankets upon blankets onto your shivering form but also made sure to drape the cold cloth on your forehead.

“Is that alright?” She asked coming to lay down beside you.

“Perfect Omega you’ve done so much for me.” You stomach made you curl up on yourself and into the small girls frame.

Omega looked you over worried for a moment before pushing some hair away from your face.

“Hey how about a story to help pass the time hm?” She asked now burrowing into the blankets next to you.

The comforting voice of the girl you considered now a little sister spoke calmly retelling many exciting stories from her time on Kamino. A few made you laugh as your eyes got heavier and heavier as minutes passed by.

“And then you wouldn’t believe it he-“ Omega trailed off slightly looking down to the sleeping form curled up close to her. The rise and fall of your chest was even for now and she couldn’t help the smiled that leaked onto her face.

In the deep depths of sleep your brow eased slightly as the pain no longer bothered you when you weren’t conscious. One last time she tucked a piece of your hair back slightly before taking your lead and closing her eyes as well, knowing at least for now you were alright.

_____________________________________

Taglist:

@arctrooper69 @thereforepizza @padawancat97 @pb-jellybeans @floffytofu @verybadatwriting @solstraalaa @ray-rook

[bookishofalder]

Night Changes [Seven]

Summary: An unexpected attack cuts the final tethers of restraint for Poe and the reader.

Warnings: Language, violence, blood, mentions of attempted assault, choking, injury description (note RED cuts to skip past uncomfortable parts if preferred), Smut—PiV, fingering, squirting, oral. W— +14K.

A/N: If there was ever a chapter I would beg for feedback/thoughts, this is it. Please tell me you like it. Oh god, soothe my worried mind.

It was tempting, the urge to roll your eyes as the man before you moved to stand too close. You smirked, waiting to see if he was serious in his attempt to corner you or if he would scamper off the moment you pulled your knife from your thigh holster where it was hidden beneath your dress.

There was a darkness in his gaze that made your hand twitch at your side, and here you had thought Canto Bight would be relatively uneventful. But it appeared you caught his eye and your disguise as just another casino patron worked because he had followed you unexpectedly into the foyer off of the main ballroom, where you had gone to wait for Poe and Temmin to return.

The three of you were here for intel promised by a very wealthy ally, so dressing the part was important for blending in with the privileged crowds. You were sure the man before you thought you weak enough to bully, a rich girl he could take advantage of.

You were annoyed, wishing you’d gone with Poe instead of Temmin, that you hadn’t offered to keep watch for any signs of your enemies because you felt you were the least suspicious of the three of you. BB8 stayed with you, but when you’d seen the man following you over your shoulder you told the droid to hide and it had zipped behind a potted plant in the corner of the foyer, beeping coyly.

You had first assumed he was a guard, perhaps about to tell you that you were in the wrong place if you were looking for a fresher, but when he stepped around you and blocked your path you quickly realized he was something else entirely. His suit, you could tell now from close up, was immensely expensive and he reeked of cologne.

There were two hallways over his shoulder, one which Poe and Temmin had gone down to meet with the contact, and the other which branched off to various parts of the greater building. Both were quiet, and so you knew not to expect any sudden interruptions that might save you the trouble of having to incapacitate the man.

But, you could easily handle one lone wolf who bit off more than he could chew.

Which was why it came as a very great surprise to you when you felt another presence behind you, but before you could do more than stiffen you felt pressure against your spine; a second man had snuck in and was pressing a knife to you. Now you understood that the first man wasn’t blocking your path; he was distracting you.

So less of a lone wolf, more of a predator with a partner. Bile rose in your throat and you glared at the man in front of you. He smirked now, taking another step toward you so that both men were almost pressed up against you, sandwiching you between them. “You’re a pretty little number.” He hissed, one hand shooting out to grab your throat.

You wanted to fight, but the knife at your back was a heavy warning of what could happen and you knew you needed to play your cards right. No pun intended. You’d been cornered before, of course, but always by First Order officers. Rich men who wanted what they couldn’t have were not on your list of experiences before this, and you wondered how best to deal with them.

“Fuck you,” You seethed, and the hand at your neck tightened fractionally. More of a threat than anything else.

His words though were a clear threat. “No, we’ll fuck you, doll.”

The way they got you onto the floor, the ease and swiftness of it, told you they’d done this together before. It sickened you, made fury rise inside of you and you wanted nothing more than to pull the knife from your holster and drive it into the hand at your throat. You made a noise, a growl, and the man with the knife finally spoke up.

“She’s a wild one, probably best to knock her out.”

You were going to kill them. Whatever happened, their blood would be soaking into this plush carpet before the end of the night. The first man moved so that he was straddling your chest, his weight on his hunches, and grinned down at you.

“Don’t worry, we’ll have our fun and be on our way. We aren’t going to hurt you so long as you don’t struggle.” He immediately contradicted himself when the hand at your throat tightened, pressing at the sides in a way that cut off airflow without completely crushing your throat. They wanted you to pass out.

You went limp, conserving your energy as you scowled up at the man. The reality of your situation was now enough to cause panic to bubble up; Poe and Temmin hadn’t been gone long. The contact would invite them for a drink, chat with them briefly before passing along the intel. They would find you here, after.

No, that couldn’t happen. It would kill Poe, and he wouldn’t be able to leave until he found the men. You whimpered, black spots started to dance in your vision and you saw, from the corner of your eye, a blur of orange and white zoom down the hallway your squadmates had ventured not long ago.

The second man was already getting excited, his free hand brushing over your face, touching your lips. Even without any air coming in, you tried to bite him. He jerked his finger back, cursing, and the man holding your throat threw his head back to laugh loudly, the pressure releasing in his distraction. You think he started to tease the other man, but everything was confusing now and instincts overtook your body, pulling in air-too much air, too quickly.

Scream.

Yes, you needed to scream. One good, long one that someone would hear, or at least loud enough to scare them off of you in case someone did come looking for the source. You kept pulling in air and it was painful your vision blurring, and you think you were about to pass out. Faces appeared in your mind. Two very distinct, very familiar faces; Charlie and Poe. Your protectors, your family, your love.

Just like that, you had what you needed to find the strength to scream.

It came out in one long, very loud wail, the sound of it echoing off of the walls and back to you before you passed out.

“POOOOOEEEEEE!”

+

The Martell family moved off, having given their words of sorrow and sympathy, and Charlie tightened the arm he had secured around his mother’s shoulders. She was the strong, silent type like him; whereas you always took after dad. He was keeping close to mom today, providing her with the support she needed and knowing that you were being well taken care of by the one person who could provide the tender love you required.

Charlie glanced around the room as mom took a sip of water, seeking you in the crowd. His eyes landed on Dad's green armchair in the corner, where you were curled up in Poe’s lap, face pressed into his neck as you shook with sobs. He could see his best friend whispering to you, his hand rubbing up at down your back, no doubt repeating words of comfort. He must have felt Charlie’s gaze, his eyes flicking up suddenly before he smiled sadly.

In many ways, it was a beautiful thing to behold the love which you and Poe had for one another. Even as young as you all were, no one could doubt or question that you were both made for one another-except, of course, for yourselves.

Charlie could almost be jealous if he hadn’t spent years around you and seen how natural it seemed to come to you both. He couldn’t be angry that his best friend loved you so deeply, that he knew what to do to comfort you, to care for you, knew when it was needed without Charlie even needing to ask. Hell, even dad had noticed, mentioned it to Charlie during that last visit...

Dad was smiling at Charlie, who sat in the chair next to his bed in the medical facility. It was a nice private room, the kind that the staff made a little homier because it was where the terminal patients came to live out their last days. Mom had taken you and Poe with her to get tea in the nearby lounge, leaving Charlie alone with dad one last time. He sighed, admitting to dad now that they were alone that it didn’t feel fair to lose his father at sixteen. And you were barely fourteen!

Dad chuckled sadly, “I want to stay more than you know, son. I have to tell you, Charlie, that I’m already more than proud of who you are and I know you’ll continue to be a remarkable person. I told your sister the same, but she’s still young, she’ll need more reminders,” Dad paused to take a breath and Charlie waited patiently, taking hold of one of his hands. “I know you’ll always take care of her, put her before anything else. Even the fight, it comes second to her. Though I expect you’ll have help. Wish I could have been around to see those two get married one day.”

Charlie grinned, “You noticed them too?” His father nodded, eyes bright despite the sickness. “How could anyone not, I suppose. Except them.” Charlie added, rolling his eyes fondly.

Dad laughed again, “They’ll realize it when they’re ready. You’re all too young for love anyway,” He joked, giving Charlie a mock stern look. “Just make sure that whatever they do, you focus on your own happiness too, son.”

He squeezed Charlie’s hand weakly, he smiled at his father, “I promise I’ll take care of her, dad. And mom, she’ll need me more.” Dad nodded, his eyes a little wet but so filled with love that Charlie could only stare at him for a few minutes before continuing. “You want me to beat him up when they do finally kiss, though?”

Another weak laugh, followed by a wink, and then Charlie spent a few more minutes talking with his dad for the last time, before eventually mom, you and Poe filtered back in.

He felt a lot of love and joy despite the fucking misery of it, until Dad's eyes slipped shut the final time and you all kissed him before stepping out to leave mom alone with the nurse. You were wrapped around Charlie, who had carried you out of the room, and he passed you over to Poe, asking his friend to take you home while he took care of mom. Poe pressed his forehead to Charlie’s before doing just that, his own eyes leaking tears.

Now, Charlie wondered if Poe had stopped touching you since that day. Perhaps he simply switched between carrying you and keeping his arm around your shoulders, anchoring you down in safety and love, letting you grieve while keeping you from falling too far into the darkness.

Poe met his eyes across the room, wordlessly asking ‘do you need me?’ And Charlie smiled back, shaking his head. Because Poe was already doing exactly what he needed him to, cooing softly in your ear as you trembled and cried quietly, protecting you while Charlie held up his mother and in turn, she held him up, thanking him for being strong, for loving so hard.

Charlie thought he could love as much as he wanted, it would still never compare to the love between Poe and you. It made him smile.

+

Poe was walking with Temmin at his side, the contact leading them through the extravagant hallways to the room where their source would pass over the intel promised to the Resistance. Intel that could help track down a man that had something the General needed. He was an ally to the Resistance, not a neutral or ‘for profit’ type but a true ally who pushed through funds for them as much as intel. Coming in person to the casino he owned, dressed to the nines in finery that felt foreign, sitting over a glass of champagne-it was the least they could do.

And Poe had to admit, the moment you’d stepped out of the fresher on the small ship Black squad had taken to come to Canto Bight, he’d become gleeful over the necessity to dress up. Because you were gorgeous, dazzlingly so in a golden, glittering dress, your legs bare, hair styled loose, a touch of make-up on your face. He thought you were so beautiful, and he wanted to tell you but didn’t trust himself to say it right, so he’d grinned before turning away and letting out a low whistle. Calling ‘looking good, sweetheart’ over his shoulder.

They were approaching a large, ornate door that the man leading them gestured toward, indicating their contact was on the other side. Poe thanked him for his help, but before he could move the final steps to the door a familiar sound suddenly entered the hall; BB8 was zooming towards him, beeping frantically.

Exchanging a curious look with Temmin, Poe dropped down to one knee as the droid rolled to a stop before him. Despite Poe’s fluency in binary, he was only catching words due to the panicked, too-fast rate at which the droid communicated. He gathered ‘attack’ and ‘knife’ and wondered if BB8 was telling him you had stabbed someone.

It wouldn’t have been the first time on a mission you’d done so.

“Buddy, slow down, I can’t understand you,” Poe hushed the droid, “Say it again, slower.”

The droid repeated itself, slowly.

Poe was moving before he finished. “Captain, go in without me. BB8, stay with him.” He ordered over his shoulder. He heard Temmin’s worried affirmative reply. And then he was running, faster than he had in his entire existence, blood roaring in his ears. Poe ran because the message was clear.

You were being attacked.

And he didn’t like how BB8 had phrased it, saying you ‘couldn’t breathe'. He didn’t know if he was about to find you with Storm Troopers or undercover First Order fighters, but regardless being unable to breathe didn’t sound like their usual treatment of suspected Rebels. It only drove him to run faster through the twisting hallway, forgetting his expensive clothing or even the importance of remaining undercover, his focus solely on you now.

You had offered to stay behind. Because it was the best option, and Canto Bight was an easy enough place to blend in. So who had made you?

Poe half expected to round the final corner up ahead and find you waiting for him with your enemy incapacitated, or otherwise in a standoff he would have to join in on the fight with.

He never expected anything like what was about to happen.

Before he reached the end of the hall, an ear-splitting shriek filled the air and Poe’s veins turned to ice, his breath catching.

“POOOOOEEEEEE!”

You had never made a sound like that before in your life, and blind, all-consuming rage overtook every facet of Poe’s being-whoever, whatever, made you scream like that was about to fucking die. He came tearing around the corner and his eyes fell on the most gut-wrenching, heart-stopping sight-you, laying still on the floor as a man straddled your chest, one hand wrapped around your throat. A second man stood next to you; both men had their backs to Poe and appeared to be watching you...

Were you dying? Dead?

They didn’t hear Poe coming, neither of them even turned around when he pulled the knife from the inner pocket of his jacket and leapt at the standing man. He slit his throat without thought, already looking toward the man still straddling you, who had released his hold on your neck to peer around curiously. He looked just in time to see his friend collapse to the floor, had enough time to jump back in fear, mouth opening in horror.

It didn’t matter, though. His futile attempt to block Poe only served to aid his aim, so that the knife he slashed out could be thrust down and into the soft flesh between his collarbone and throat. Poe snarled, slamming him back into the wall to ensure he didn’t fall onto you, before yanking the knife out and finishing him off with a firm swipe of the blade over his throat, cutting through the tendons and blinking when a spray of blood landed on him.

Stashing the knife back into his pocket and glancing up at the closed door, Poe stumbled forward and dropped to his knees next to you, adrenaline coursing through his body and keeping his hand steady as he sought out your pulse point. He could already see bruising bleeding over the soft skin of your throat, darkening it, and he felt his rage ebb away into a panic so severe that he almost missed the steady beat of your heart.

“Oh fuck,” He gasped out, a modicum of relief seeping through the panic. He scooped you up quickly, spinning around and making his way toward the hallway opposite the one he’d just come from. He groaned when he realized he wasn’t sure where to go, which door led to an exit-you had the entire place memorized. But you were breathing steadily in his arms, still passed out, and Poe needed to follow his gut on this because you’re life depended on him getting you to the safety of the ship.

He couldn’t cut through the casino, so he opted to simply try each door in the hall ahead until one of them lead to a room with a window he could climb out of. Kare was waiting on the ship, he could send her in as backup once he was out. It was the second door that he shouldered through that lead to him gasp in relief-it led onto a patio, on the ground floor. He glanced around, confirming no one was in sight before tearing off at a run, holding you tight in his arms. Everything was happening in such a blur.

He tapped on his comm, “Kare! Please tell me we have bacta shots on the ship.”

Her voice crackled through in alarm, “What’s happened? We only have spray-“

“Shit!” He growled, “I’m coming back with the Major-she was attacked, get out the medkit and prepare to head to the casino and wait outside for Temmin, he needs to have a backup-“

“You got it, Commander!” She replied swiftly before the line went dead and he knew she’d have switched over to Temmin’s channel to give him the update.

When Poe boarded the ship a few minutes later, Kare was waiting at the top of the ramp and gasped at the sight of you in his arm, passed out. She paused, eyes on Poe “Whose blood is that, Commander?”

“It’s not hers,” Poe replied, setting you down on the only bed the tiny ship had and picking up the medical kit Kare had left out for him, “I killed two men. Make sure Temmin and BB8 get back here with the intel, I’ll have the ship ready to depart.” She confirmed she heard him before running down the ramp and out of sight.

Poe set to work quickly, first tugging a rolled blanket from the end of the bed and covering you with it, then seeking out your pulse to confirm it was still beating steadily. He then uncapped the bacta spray and gently tilted your head back; exposing your heavily bruised throat, and carefully opening your mouth.

“Oh my sweet girl,” He sobbed out, first spraying into your open mouth so that the spray would drip down into your throat and reduce the swelling, then again to the outside skin. It would help, he comforted himself, “My sweet, sweet girl, I’m here. I’ve got you, please, please be okay.” He pleaded, his voice a strained whisper as he stroked your hair gently off of your face, waiting for the spray to do its work. He thinks he kept talking, while his eyes watched your face, every second torture until he saw movement behind your eyelids.

“Mmm,” You moaned out a strangled sound, your face tightening as you registered the pain. Your eyes suddenly snapped open and he saw panic flash there, a fear he’d never seen on your face before that shattered his heart right in his chest.

“Baby,” He whispered, bringing his face over yours so you could see him clearly, “It’s me, I’ve got you, sweet girl. We’re on the ship, we’re safe.” He promised you, dropping his hand to hold yours under the blanket. You gazed at him for a second, then dropped your eyes to search over him and he glanced down, realizing he was...still covered in blood.

“Ah-okay?” You wheezed, your voice was scratchy, but your brows pinched together in an expression that cleared up your meaning.

“I’m fine,” He assured you, leaning down at pressing a kiss to your forehead, “Don’t try to speak until we get you looked at, okay? Does anything else hurt?”

He drew back to watch your face, but you shook your head slightly to indicate you were okay. He cupped your cheeks then, needing to touch you, to feel you alive and warm under his now trembling fingers. You noticed his shaky hands, one of your own coming out from beneath the blanket to reach up and stroke his jaw.

A shuddering, retched sob tore out of him as you did this familiar comforting gesture, attempting to ease his pain when you were the one that had been harmed. Tears no longer threatened, but spilled from his eyes as he leaned over you, his face inches from yours, “My sweet girl, y-you scared me, there, thought I-I-“ He broke off, unable to even say the words. You kept caressing his jaw, the motion soothing to you as well, he gathered from the expression on your face. “I killed them. Both.” He admitted. You responded by merely widening your eyes slightly, then shutting them in understanding.

He watched you for a few moments, then let his own eyes shut as he lowered his head and pressed his forehead to yours, trying to reign in his emotions so that he could get the ship ready to go home. He pulled back when you attempted to speak again, your voice a little clearer thanks to the spray.

“L-love you.”

Poe ran his thumbs under your eyes to wipe away the tears that spilled, “I love you,” He replied, turning his head and pressing his lips to your hand, “So, so much, my lovely girl.”

+

When Tahla had first walked onto the ship after Temmin and Kare had successfully landed back on base at D’Qar, his expression was so fraught with concern you’d squeaked a little from your spot on the bed, wanting to tell him you were fine despite your voice box rejecting the attempt. Poe had disappeared into the cockpit with Temmin and Kare when they finally boarded the ship on Canto Bight, BB8 in tow, and you think he must have overstated your injury when he’d called into base.

“Well, that sounded extraordinarily wretched, let me take a look,” Tahla joked, his features relaxing, and he sat at your side on the bed. Poe was behind you now, his body acting as your pillow, a comforting position he’d taken up the moment the ship landed and the rest of Black team had departed to get the intel to the General. “This is going to be uncomfortable, but try not to make noise, okay?” His eyes were on Poe when he spoke at first, dropping to you when he posed the question. You nodded your understanding and decided to lose yourself in thought as he gently started feeling along your throat.

When you first came to, the only thing you had been aware of was the pain in your throat. You’d felt movement at your side and panicked, thinking you were still under attack, only when you opened your eyes you instead met the most heart-wrenching sight of your life; Poe covered in blood, looking down at you pale and panicked, his eyes wide with fear. Seeing him like that hurt worse than the pain in your throat, though that was certainly in a strong second place.

When he admitted he killed the men, you regretted only that you hadn’t been able to fight them off yourself, or at least been able to help him take them down. You didn’t want all of that to sit on his shoulders. You comforted yourself at the moment by telling him you loved him, testing the words on your tongue, despite knowing he would take them at their usual meaning and not how you truly meant them now.

But you could wait a little longer to tell him properly.

“Alright, Major. The good news is that you’re going to be okay and the spray will combat any long-term damage to your vocal cords,” Tahla was looking into your mouth now, a light shining in his hand as he inspected your throat. “Bad news is that I can’t administer a Bacta shot this far into the injury, so you’ll have to allow it to heal on its own over the next couple of days.”

“F-fuck.” You stammered, and Poe’s hands, which were clasping your shoulders, tightened fractionally in response. A silent, loving, admonishment. Tahla laughed, stowing away his light before giving you a final once over.

His eyes moved up, meeting Poe’s instead, “That’s not your blood, right?”

“No,” Poe replied, his voice quiet, “No. I killed them. BB8 found me, told me (y/n) was being attacked. They were...I didn’t hesitate.”

Fuck, he sounded so dark and haunted, you wanted to take away his worry, take away whatever memories he had now from the attack. You were tired though, your eyes beginning to droop now that you were home and safe and in the clear of any permanent damage. Tahla gave Poe a nod that suggested his approval over Poe’s handling of the men who attacked you, his eyes darkening for a moment, and then your eyes closed completely.

Poe’s hands immediately moved, adjusting you in his arms. How he was able to tell you were ready to sleep you’d never know. He was lifting you before you could even consider offering to just walk since your legs worked just fine. But you let yourself curl into his hold instead, your face pressing into his neck. He began to walk and you let the gentle motions soothe you further, lulling you towards sleep.

Tahla spoke from somewhere behind your head, where he walked next to Poe, “I’m going to give her a few days off, pull her from the field for a week minimum-I’ll check on her in five days, see if her voice is good enough for the field.”

“Listen, man, thank you for coming. I know it’s overstepping to demand a specific Healer-“

“Don’t worry about it,” Tahla interrupted, “I’m glad you did ask for me. Scared the hell out of me though, Poe.”

Poe sighed, “Sorry about that.” He didn’t elaborate even though you wanted him to explain why he’d caused Tahla to panic, what he’d said to have your friend run into the ship like he thought your head was about to fall off.

You also wanted to thank Tahla for coming, but you were too sleepy. Instead, you let the way Poe carried you to ease you closer and closer to the blissful release of sleep, not realizing until you heard a door whoosh open that the Healer was gone. Poe lowered you onto something soft and you peeked out beneath your eyelashes to find you were in his room.

“Sorry, I didn’t want to wake you,” He murmured, pulling his blanket from where it was folded at the base of his bed to cover you, his hands still shaky. You reached for him then, grabbing hold of his hand, and Poe stilled, gazing down at you. “What is it, sweetheart?”

You cleared your throat carefully and kept your voice as low as possible when you spoke. “Sta-y with me.” You saw the words hit him, his tension releasing so quickly that you think he nearly collapsed as he joined you on the bed, laying cautiously next to you. The only part of him that touched you was where your hand had grabbed him; now, you tugged him closer and shuffled, burrowing into his side and tucking your head into his neck.

You didn’t care that he was bloody or you were both still dressed in the fancy clothing-you just wanted him close. Needed him, not only for yourself but also for him, so that he knew you weren’t upset with him in any way, so that he couldn’t lick his wounds alone and convince himself that he messed up.

You needed him to know that you still trusted him. Always would.

He shifted so that he could circle his arms around you, holding you tight against him and breathing steadily, hard enough that you knew he was fighting off tears again. Your poor, kind-hearted Poe. He took things so hard, loved so fiercely. You didn’t understand how you deserved him when you were young or now. You just felt so fucking safe now, he was all-encompassing safety and love and you wondered again how you could have thought badly of him, to ever have run away.

“Sweet girl,” He started murmuring again, whispers as he stroked one hand over your hair soothingly. You weren’t sure if he knew you were still awake, it had been so long. You remained still, hoping he would never stop speaking so sweetly to you, letting his words lull you. “My brave, beautiful girl. So strong. I’ll never let anyone hurt you ever again. I love you, maker I love you...”

You wanted to say it back, but you fell asleep to the soothing rumble of his chest as he caressed you in the night, rocking away your nightmares and keeping you every bit as safe as he promised.

+

Poe woke early, light only just filtering in his thin window because he was too warm. At first, he was confused as to why he felt so restricted, so heavy until he looked down.

Stars.

You were tangled around him as he lay on his back, your arm hugged around his waist, head resting just below his sternum, legs entwined with his own. And he was still wearing his suit, the fabric not as breathable as his flight suit, and tighter too. As he gazed down at you, still peacefully asleep, further warmth pooled in his chest and belly.

‘Stay with me.’

Maker, three words and you knocked him clean over and he was ready right then to tell you he would never leave your side again if you asked him not to. But he’d managed to reign himself in slightly before curling around you protectively, unable to keep himself from touching you in gentle, soothing motions. He’d fallen asleep faster than he’d thought he would.

Now, he realized that if you woke up you would find him still covered in the blood of the men he’d killed. He needed to get himself into his fresher and clean up. With slow movements, he was able to extract himself from your grip and climb from the bed. He covered you in the blanket so the temperature change wouldn’t go as noticed and wake you up. He watched you for a minute as you slept, then quietly grabbed a pen and piece of paper, jotting a note down in case you woke up.

‘In the shower. Don’t leave, please.’

He set it next to you on his bed, then grabbed some clean clothing and stepped into his fresher, the door closing behind him silently. He bypassed his mirror, not interested in seeing how he looked, and went straight into the shower, turning on the water and flinching at the brief burst of cold before the temperature evened out. He scrubbed himself clean and avoided looking at the floor, at the swirling blood and grime disappearing into the drain. He had enough images in his head. It wasn’t that he hadn’t killed before, because he most certainly had-both from his x-wing and in ground combat. But he had never taken a life so viciously, so intimately. And it wasn’t how quickly he’d done it that scared him, it was how okay with it all he was.

They were hurting you, at the time he’d thought they’d killed you, he had no choice. No option but to end them.

He considered working in the field with you now, what that would look like. Would he start throwing himself in front of you and breaking protocol as he had in the woods of Takodana? Like he’d gotten angry at you for doing all that time ago when you’d first come back to D’Qar and had taken out that Stormtrooper with his gun levelled at Poe’s head? Was the fight...

Maker.

Was it worth losing you for?

The answer came fast; no, no it wasn’t. And that scared him because he’d always been ready to die for the cause, for the Resistance, to abolish the tyranny of the First Order. You and Charlie and he had all grown up with that single mindset, to get old enough to join and then fight until the war ended or you died.

And now all he could think was that he would rather lose the war a thousand times over than lose you.

When he stepped out of his shower and dried off, Poe was reeling. He was going through the motions-pulling on his socks, his shorts, his favourite tee. But internally he was reminding himself of everything he’d accomplished as a Resistance fighter. Of everything you had. Even after losing Charlie, you both kept fighting without question, for him, for yourselves, for the cause.

But...wasn’t the saying in your family that family came first, then the fight, and then everything else? When had he lost sight of that and forgotten that with great love came the equally great threat of losing it? But he couldn’t just leave, would never even consider it, no and he knew you wouldn’t, not for him or anything. There was nothing in the entire galaxy that would make you stop fighting. Which left Poe with the greatest question of all-what the hell was he going to do?

He didn’t have an answer, not even a vague idea, so he tabled the internal battle he was waging and stepped out of his fresher to check on you. His heart stuttered in his chest when he found you splayed across his bed, head hidden under his pillow, one leg kicked out from under the covers. You had always looked so peaceful when you slept, and memories surface of the countless times growing up, waking in your bed and watching you sleep. He’d usually wake up before you, sometimes he’d sneak out to hang out with Charlie, other times he’d enjoy the quiet and calm of your room.

The last thing he wanted to do right now was to wake you up, and so Poe made his way to his dresser to search through options for you to wear. Even the idea of you going alone into your room to shower and change made his heart drop, his need to keep you safe and close was so great. He picked out one of his shirts, a pair of athletic shorts you could tighten the waist of, and after much debate with himself, a pair of his briefs. He’d let you decide if you were going to wear them-he just wanted you to have the option.

He went into his fresher and set the clothing on the vanity, starting a little when he emerged and found you watching him with bleary eyes. He smiled tentatively, suddenly nervous under your gaze, but after a small pause your face lit up, eyes brightening and smile wide, melting his heart in his chest.

“Good morning,” Poe sat down on the bed next to you, brushing a hand over your face to wipe away stray hairs, “Try not to speak too much, sweetheart.” He gently reminded you, his eyes dropping to your darkened throat.

You made a face, scrunching your nose, and Poe chuckled softly. He watched you yawn before pushing yourself up, moving to sit next to him and raising your hand to tentatively touch your throat. You winced before flicking your gaze up to meet his, offering a small smile, “Hi,” It was raspy and quiet, dry enough that he realized you needed some water. He leaned over and grabbed a glass bottle from his mini-fridge, handing it over to your waiting hand.

He watched you gulp the water down in small bursts, happy to see swallowing didn’t appear to cause you too much discomfort. “How do you feel?”

“M’fine,”

“You up for a shower?” Poe asked, and your eyes widened slightly in response and he started sputtering immediately, heat flushing his cheeks, “I mean-you can shower, I uh, that is, I put some clothes in there for you-and I will wait here. I showered already.”

Stars, he felt about fifteen all of the sudden, embarrassment flooding him over his unintentionally suggestive phrasing. He scrubbed a hand over the stubble on his jaw, glancing at you to find you holding in your laughter, amusement evident in your expression.

Poe rolled his eyes, recovering himself, “Very funny,” But he laughed, cheered by the smile on your face as you climbed out of his bed and made your way into his fresher. Your dress was crumpled and flat from sleeping in it, and your hair a tousled mess.

Even still, you were truly beautiful.

You looked over your shoulder at Poe before closing the door to the fresher, and he patted the bed, “I’ll be right here if you need anything.” He assured you, and a wave of relief flashed over your face as you shut the door.

Poe got out of bed, taking the time you were showering to tidy his room, including making the bed. He thought about everything that had happened and realized he wasn’t even remotely aware of whether the intel had proven as useful as the ally had claimed, having passed it off to Temmin and Kare to get into Leia’s hands. The fact that his droid hadn’t returned however told Poe that BB8 must be helping to decipher the intel, and Poe reasoned he could find out once he’d taken care of you.

When he heard the water shut off in the fresher, he started to fret over how to best do just that. He supposed it would be ideal for you to remain in the quiet space of his room, where you could avoid speaking too often or loudly. He wanted to keep you close...but then the doubt crept in and he began to question whether you would even want to stay with him, or if he was already being too overbearing. Maybe you were right now looking at the clothing he left out for you and shaking your head.

The fresher door opened a few minutes later, as Poe was tying on his boots, eager to get food from the dining hall and bring it back to the room for you both. “Anything you want from-uh...” He froze, eyes landing on you dressed in his clothing, his shirt much too large and-and you’d decided to only put on the briefs, the tighter fabric only just peeking out below the hem of his shirt.

Poe hadn’t thought of a chest band, not until this very moment when he could see your full breasts outlined against the light grey fabric. He swallowed, dropping his eyes to the floor as heat crawled up his neck.

If you noticed his reaction, you didn’t comment. You crawled back onto his bed, pulling a throw blanket over your legs before settling into the cushions happily, “Pancakes. Definitely pancakes, please.” You whispered, voice slightly improved now that you had some water.

It was entirely without thought that Poe leaned across his bed and placed a gentle kiss to your temple, before jumping up and promising to return with all the pancakes he could carry.

+

Poe sat with his drink held firm in his hand, his eyes flicking around the crowd before he sighed and settled back into his seat. The usual table, though this was the first time he’d been back to the Cantina since the funeral. Tommy and Rico had asked him a few times, of course, but he’d refused, never feeling quite ready to return.

Today though...he’d come because it was your birthday.

He’d have a drink for you. Even though he had no idea where in the fucking galaxy you’d gone.

And it wasn’t for lack of trying, but no matter who he went to, no one could or would give him your new assignment. You’d been clever and covered your tracks enough that you made sure anyone who would have helped Poe couldn’t see your assignment.

He’d never been more miserable in his life, never more angry with himself. He’d said awful shit to you and then disappeared for a few days to collect his head, thinking of how he’d apologize.

He’d wanted to tell you he loved you.

Instead, he broke your heart.

And you up and left before he could even begin to start making amends.

He was on his last possible source at this point, a person he hadn’t even wanted to go to. But Vanya had been kind to Poe, said she could try and see if anyone she was close with had the access needed. He told her he’d be here tonight, having a drink in your honour, if she wanted to stop by and let him know how she’d got along.

He just needed to find you, and then he would say everything he should have before, apologize to you and promise to make it up to you for the rest of his fucking life. He missed you so much it hurt, it hurt more than losing Charlie. You had disappeared in a way that almost made it feel like you had died as well.

He was starting to feel dead inside.

He glanced up, seeking Vanya out, and met the eyes of a woman at a nearby table, who shot him a friendly smile. He gave her what was probably more of a grimace in return, dropping his eyes to his drink. He wasn’t sure he was ready for...anything like that.

After a moment, he looked back up and saw Vanya walk in. She spotted him and waved, beginning to make her way over. As she grew closer, Poe could see the hard set to her jaw and felt his heart sink into his stomach-he could already tell she’d been unsuccessful.

When she sat down across from him, she heaved a great sigh, her eyes casting downward to look at her hands. “I’m sorry,” She looked up at him after a moment when he made no reply, “She’s smart, didn’t leave a lot to chance.”

Poe waved his hand, “It’s not your fault in the least, Vanya. I appreciate you trying.”

“I’m sure she’ll come back, once she’s grieved enough, had a chance to think things through.”

He wanted to laugh, but instead only grunted, “You didn’t get a chance to know her, but she’s more stubborn than...” He broke off and rubbed a hand over his face. Vanya’s face had fallen as the unspoken name sat between them, and he felt a surge of sadness for her-she had really loved Charlie. “I said...well, I don’t blame her for leaving. It’s already been a couple of months, she’s not coming back. I just wish one person in this fucking place could tell me more than ‘she’s alive.’.”

Vanya leaned forward, resting her elbows on the table as she bobbed her head in agreement, eyes kind, “Poe I saw you-both of you-that night when we first met here. I saw the way you looked at each other-“

Poe tried not to glare, frowning into his drink, “Yeah? And what do you think you know now?”

Vanya ignored his tone, unbothered, “I saw how in love you both were. That kind of love...it doesn’t go away. Not forever. She’ll come back.” And with that, Vanya dipped her head and let loose a wave of fresh tears as thoughts of how Charlie was never coming back sat in the air.

He reached across the table automatically and took her hand, squeezing. “I’m sorry, Vanya. Look, thank you for everything. If you ever need anything, you know where to find me, alright?”

She smiled then, her eyes misty, but remarkably already recovering from her emotional moment, just the kind of tough lady Charlie loved. With a farewell hug, Vanya departed and left Poe alone at the table again. He sat for a minute, his drink nearly finished, and thought of all the times he sat here and took for granted what he had. Silently, he wished you a happy birthday wherever you were in the universe and hoped you weren’t even half as lonely and miserable as he was.

When he finally looked up again, the pretty woman at the table not far from his caught his eye again, and this time he smiled more broadly at her, tilting his head in question. She gestured at the seat next to her and after only a brief pause, Poe decided it was time to give himself a break from the monotony of grief and pain and loneliness and just escape for a few hours.

He joined the woman, Smiling in a way that didn’t feel real at all.

+

“This is nice, me getting to talk and talk with absolutely no interruptions-“

Tahla flinched when you kicked him under the table, and you stifled a giggle. Stars, it wasn’t as painful as when you’d woken up last night, but your throat still hurt. It was stinging, scratchy sort of pain when you made too much noise, but you found you’d been able to hold a low conversation with your friend over the past hour with minimal issues. It was just the laughing that did you in.

Poe had reluctantly dropped you off to the dining hall for an early dinner after you’d spent a good ten minutes convincing him you could handle going to dinner. He’d then been called away by BB8 to see the General, and you’d watched him actually contemplate what to do. It had almost been funny, but it also made butterflies erupt in your stomach-not for the first time that day. You shooed him away with the promise that you’d seek out Tahla or Temmin so that you wouldn’t be alone.

He’d been so attentive since you woke up, setting out clothing, then by bringing you breakfast and lunch and confining you to lounge on his bed all day. Despite your injury, it had kind of been one of the best days you’d had in years. It had felt a lot like old times, curled up in bed with Poe. The silence was comfortable as you read and he typed up his mission report, though the emotions running through you were entirely new.

It was a lot, emotionally, the last twenty-four hours. As traumatizing as your attack was, you felt like you were being best-taken care of by Poe and felt a little overwhelmed at how good he made you feel. He sensed everything you needed, right down to catching you when you’d be stuck on a page for a little too long, your thoughts turning inward, and he’d press a soft kiss to your hair, run his hand over your jaw, whisper sweet words of comfort.

You wanted to comfort him, too, for having to do what he did. For having to suffer through the worry of how injured you were and if you would recover. You didn’t know how to make him feel better, exactly, but you sensed that the more he took care of you the better he felt in turn, so you allowed him to fret more than was necessary.

And every time he touched you? Well, that was the thing, now that you’d encountered darkness where, for just a few moments you thought you were going to die, you realized you needed to tell him how you felt, finally. You weren’t sure how to bring it up, though, and ended up going back and forth in your head all day trying to decide.

“Lost in your head again, kid.” Tahla’s hand came to rest over yours from across the table; you glanced up from staring into your soup to meet his gaze. He looked extraordinarily understanding considering this wasn’t the first time it had happened during this dinner.

“Sorry. I guess I-I’ve never been attacked like that before. I’ve had, you know, guys pinch my ass or whatever and had no problem kicking the shit out of them if Charlie or Poe didn’t get to them first, but this was...” You trailed off and ran a hand over your face, then sipped your water to help soothe your throat as you spoke. “This wasn’t enemy forces, this wasn’t some guy in a cantina too many drinks in with a shit moral compass. This was-“

“Attempted assault,” Tahla said bluntly, squeezing your hand again. You gulped, then nodded, unsure of what to say. “I’m sorry that you went through that, (y/n), I really am. I wish I could say something more insightful.”

You sighed heavily, waving off his concern, “The worst part is that I passed out before I could...and Poe didn’t say what he did, but I saw Temmin’s face when he was getting off the ship last night. I don’t care how he killed them, I just hate that I couldn’t help, that I couldn’t take away some of the responsibility from him.” You had another couple spoonfuls of your dinner, eyes on Tahla as he thought over your words.

“You know,” He began slowly, tapping his free hand on the table, “Poe basically said the same thing to me when he got me on comms last night. That he wished he’d prevented you from being hurt at all, that he failed in protecting you. He was so worked up, so upset, I thought you were close to death. He really loves you.”

Setting down your spoon with a clang, you sat up straighter before, quietly, replying. “Of course he does, and I love him. We’re a team, one of the best. We get the job done, always have. That’s why I’m freaking out, Tahla,” You flinched as your voice raised too high and your throat burned. You switched to a whisper, “He dropped everything mid-mission to save me, then brought me to the ship. He still...He sent in Kare, but it wasn’t exactly protocol.”

Tahla suddenly grinned at you in a bright, knowing sort of way that made you want to kick him again. Your scowl gave you away, “Don’t kick me, I’m just...I can’t believe you don’t see it. Don’t you realize-aren’t you in love with him?”

You blinked across the table; were you that obvious? If Tahla was calling you out, did that mean others, Poe, had figured you out? “Kriff, Tahla, why are you always so fucking blunt.”

“That’s not an answer.”

You glanced around wearily to ensure you wouldn’t be overheard, “I am, but I just got him back so I’m trying to time it-”

“Maker, I bet he tells himself the same thing and that’s why you’ve both been so fucking blind. You realize he cut down your attackers with his knife?” You stared at Tahla in surprise, “Then he carried you back to your ship and freaked the fuck out until he got you here, not to mention how he told the Healer on call to go to hell and only send me to look at you?”

“I-I, but-“ You gaped. You’d known some of the pieces, of course, but hadn’t realized the extent of Poe's panic.

Tahla laughed, not unkindly, “You want to know what we all used to say back home growing up?” He didn’t wait for your reply, seeming to understand from the expression on your face that words didn’t exist for you right now, “We said, ‘never mess with Poe’s girl’. Remember when Gus broke up with you, said some rude shit to you? Well, he ended up with a black eye for it. Poe’s always loved you. And since I’ve been here these past few weeks, it’s like you two are already a couple.”

You still didn’t know how to reply, so you were incredibly grateful when his pager went off and he glanced down before releasing your hand. With an apologetic smile, he began to stand, and you joined him-no longer hungry-and met him around the table. He pulled you in for a hug, his face schooled to a more neutral look when you pulled back slightly to peer up at him.

“Thanks for everything, Tahla. I’ll be sad when you leave next week.” You admitted softly, and his smile grew.

Leaning down, Tahla pressed a chaste kiss to your cheek and then turned his head slightly to whisper in your ear. “I’ll come back for the wedding, of course.”

And with that, he pulled back, winked at you, and then walked off toward the far doors of the dining hall. You had half a mind to follow him and kick him just for the hell of it, the cheeky bastard, but instead, you pushed your seat in and turned to head back to your room, hoping Poe would be done with the General and would give you an update.

When you walked into the hallway and spotted Poe coming along, a weirdly decisive sensation seemed to settle in your stomach, solidifying the moment his eyes found yours from several feet away. His face broke into a relieved, wide grin and that was it, that was the final cord snapped.

It was almost funny.

You saw a modicum of confusion knit his brows together when you suddenly marched towards him, jaw set because you were trying to reign in the intense emotions now bubbling up inside of you. “Sweetheart?” He said, frowning further when you grabbed his arm and started toward the direction of your rooms. You didn’t speak, afraid of opening your mouth and just word-vomiting every thought you’d ever had, and so you pulled him along silently.

Out of the corner of your eye, you could see him assessing you, trying to figure out what set you off, repeatedly opening and closing his mouth as he considered. When you got to the first empty hallway, you couldn’t contain yourself any longer. You halted, releasing his arm and spinning to face him straight on. Poe opened his mouth, but before he could ask you a question, it just...came out.

“I love you,” You sighed it, lower than you’d have liked to say it because of your damaged vocal cords, but he heard you. You knew because he stiffened like a board and his open mouth slackened almost comically. “I-I’m in love with you, Poe Dameron, and I always have been and I can’t hold it in any longer.”

You bit your lip to prevent yourself from babbling, holding his wide-eyed gaze steadily. Finally saying it aloud was about a million times better than it had felt to simply admit it to yourself. You felt like you could float away just for getting the truth out, though a level of anxiety began to grow the longer he stood silent before you. But you knew his eyes, every expression they’d ever held, and you could see that he was processing your words, that they grew brighter and brighter until movement caught your eye and you glanced down to see his fingers twitch, and then he was moving.

Poe reached up and caught your face gently in his hands, closing the distance between you both so that your bodies were pressed together. He gazed at you in wonder for a moment. “Oh my sweet girl,” He crooned softly, and you were melting into his touch, your heart was surely about to burst now, and then- “I have loved you in every eternity that has ever been, and will ever be. You are everything, sweetheart, everything to me. I should have...should have told you so many times before this.”

And then Poe Dameron slotted his lips over yours and kissed you deeply like he’d been waiting his whole life to do it. It was like coming home. You were rooted to the ground now, his kiss anchoring you, his gentle caress over your cheeks sending fire into your veins that conflicted with the euphoria in your mind.

Because Poe, your Poe, was kissing you. Handsome, tall, broad and strong Poe. Your best friend, your soulmate, was kissing you and you didn’t think you could ever stop now. Your lips parted for him the same moment he did for you, and then you were tasting him and Stars, did he ever taste good. Like home-warm, a smouldering fire on a rainy evening. You knew he liked what he found in kissing you when he groaned lightly, his hands settling at the back of your neck and pressing you closer against him, deepening the kiss as your tongues danced, and you whimpered in response.

With a gasp, Poe pulled back and you saw more than love and adoration on his face, now you saw desire too. Real, heated desire.

And fuck, that pollen had absolutely nothing going for it, you saw that now. Seeing just a sliver of what desire truly looked like on his face, you knew it had all been a huge illusion brought on by the poison, during that mission. You were burning under his gaze now, every cell of your body alight and happy to surrender, responding to him before he’d barely moved. His hands were still on you and you realized yours were in fists at your sides so you reached up and did something you’d always wanted to do-sinking them into his curls.

“Fuck,” He rumbled the moment you gave a slight tug, his eyes fluttering closed briefly, a twitch appearing in his jaw. When he looked at you again you swear you burst into flames. “We need to...talk. In my room.” Before you could reply, he stooped and clasped his hands to the back of your thighs, lifting, and you realized he wanted to carry you.

And you were going to fucking let him. You pressed yourself against Poe and allowed him to guide your legs to wrap around his waist, whimpering again when his hands gripped your hips tightly. You leaned forward, wanting to kiss him. You could see how determined he was to focus, to get to the privacy of his room. You nipped along his jaw as he hurried along, grateful the halls were quiet but truly you wouldn’t have cared if he bowled people over at this point. His hands flexed as you kissed him, pressed you even closer against him when you lightly sucked on a spot on his neck that tasted as delicious as it looked.

“Stars, Poe,” You whispered, playing with his hair still. “I love you so much.”

“Let m-me show you, how fucking much I love you, sweet girl.” He panted in response, stepping through the doorway to his room and laying you onto his bed. The door shut and locked at his command, sealing you into the privacy of his quarters. He pulled back to gaze down at you, eyes wide, then reached up with one hand to very lightly trace along your neck. “And no one is ever going to touch you again.”

He said it with such strength and conviction you could only nod, even though it was a tall promise to make given the lives you lived. Because you believed him; that he meant he would do anything in his power to keep you safe. When he lowered himself down over you and started to kiss you again, you relaxed entirely for probably the first time in your life.

Burning never felt so good.

+

Poe was kissing you. You were kissing Poe. It was, it had to be, a dream. But if it was a dream how could it feel so intense and real and right? How could kissing you possibly be as perfect as this? He felt like he was whole again-like his heart tripled in size the moment you told him you were in love with him and then every moment with his lips pressed to yours only continued to make it grow.

Yesterday he’d almost lost you, or at least thought he had, and now you were tangling your fingers in his hair and moaning underneath him as you kissed, your body trembling. He’d never been as hard as quickly in his fucking life, could feel himself pulsing where he was pressed against your leg. He wanted to be embarrassed but the look on your face when he’d dropped you onto the bed told him you were thinking the same thing as he was now, just as overwhelmed and needy to get as close as possible, skin to skin. To finally tear down every single barrier-mental and physical-between you and come together, be together.

Which was probably why it seemed to take no time to rip one another’s clothes off until Poe was only in his briefs and you were left in the briefs he’d given you that morning to wear.

“Oh sweetheart,” He murmured, his eyes running over your every dip and curve and swell, the smoothness of your skin calling to him. He was laving his tongue over your nipple the first time you cried out, the sound strangled and broken enough that he pulled back and looked at you closely. “You can’t be loud, sweet girl. I want you to, trust me, but you have to be a good girl. We don’t want to hurt your voice any more than it already is, okay?”

“O-okay, I’ll try.”

Poe hummed, “Tell me the moment you want to stop. We don’t have to do anything you aren’t comfortable-”

You slid one hand out of his hair and dropped it between your bodies as he was speaking, coming to grip his length over his underwear. Poe broke off with a hiss, automatically thrusting into your hold. “I’ve b-been waiting my whole life for you, Poe Dameron.” You sighed, releasing his erection and tracing your hand along the planes of his stomach and chest. “Never stop. I’m yours and I never want to stop.”

A possessive feeling, one that had always lingered in the background when Poe was with you, increased tenfold at your words, further driven by what had happened yesterday. He growled before capturing your mouth in another, more fierce kiss, his tongue exploring you as he ground his hips down a little.

When he finally pulled back, you were gasping and even more flushed, your chest heaving as you looked at him. “You’re mine,” He repeated, bracing one arm on the bed and trailing the other down to tease over your centre, dipping below the band of his briefs. “I’m yours, too, sweet girl.” And he locked eyes with you as he pushed two fingers inside of you, gasping out at the blissed-out, contained moan you allowed yourself and the feel of how tight and wet you were.

Your hips bucked when he pressed in deep and curled his fingers, playing with you until he found a spot within that made you just about shoot off of the bed. With a wicked grin, he started to tease that spot and watched your face as you came undone bit by bit for him.

It was the most vivid, raw experience of his entire life. Every single moment soaked into his mind and became a permanent, detailed memory-your little whines and pleas, the roll of your hips, the heat of your slick and how he could smell you, just the right amount of sweetness. It was all so much more than the sex you’d had during the pollen exposure. Every other sense had been cut down and pushed back during that, but now they were all operating on full levels and it felt so right. It enabled Poe to work you through to your orgasm with ease all the while just about ready to cum in his underwear as he did.

“Shit, you are fucking beautiful, sweet girl,” He moaned, adjusting the arm he was bracing himself with so that he could clamp that hand over your mouth. He sensed you were close, could feel your tight walls clenching, and wanted to protect you from harming yourself if you forgot you couldn’t scream. “Cum for me-I’ve imagined it so many times, need to see you cum for real, for me. I’ll keep you safe, go ahead, let go.”

He felt your lips part behind his hand, then your entire body went rigid and you came hard, back arching until a significant amount of wetness soaked his hand, and the bed, and you started to whine and shake from the intensity of it all. Poe growled as you came, glancing down in wonder to see more wetness pool and realizing you were squirting, and he hadn’t known you could do that.

“Fuck, baby, is that for me? You perfect little thing, you are the hottest fucking woman. Holy shit!”

You slumped into the mattress with a huge breath, the warm air hitting his hand and he moved it so that you could catch your breath. With care he slowly removed his fingers from you, looking from your blissed-out expression to your soaked underwear, to your essence all over his hand. He quickly removed your panties, then shuffled down the bed, even more turned on now.

“I just, fuck I need to taste you real quick, sweet girl.” And he dove into your folds before you could respond, taking care to avoid your sensitive nub, and licked you like it was his last meal. You tasted fucking delicious and he didn’t want to stop, pushing your legs apart he cleaned up every drop you’d leaked while you whimpered for him.

“Sh-shit,” You cried, voice low, writhing against his hold on your hips. “Poe, please. Please!”

Poe pulled back, licking his lips, and grinned up at you. “You okay, sweet girl?” You nodded and he rose, eager to get you over the edge again so that he could lick up everything you gave him. “Please what? What do you need?” He crawled back up your body, chuckling when he felt your hands pushing desperately at his briefs.

You cleared your throat, “You. Always needed you, Poe.” You whispered, your voice so filled with emotion you nearly knocked him over. He took over pushing his briefs off and then reached under you with both arms, securing your body before lifting you, changing positions so that you were sitting in his lap. His length pressed against your thigh as you settled.

Poe stroked some stray hair out of your face and kissed you softly, holding you against him and savouring the moment. He’d never been so filled with emotion and pleasure before, every woman he’d been with over the years simply could not compare to the power and love between you and Poe, and it was terrifying. Sensing his apprehension, you drew back from the kiss and stroked along his jaw soothingly and Poe took a moment to simply drink you in.

“I never knew anything could be like this,” He admitted, now running his hands all over your body, pausing to squeeze his favourite curves. You smiled at him, pupils blown wide with lust, your expression telling him you agreed. “I’ve wasted so many years, (y/n). I’m so sorry.”

“No,” You shook your head, dropping one hand to seek out his length and holding it gently in your hand, lining him up. “No, we aren’t apologizing for our mistakes anymore. It’s you and me now, Poe, you, and, m-me.” You lowered yourself, your scratchy voice breaking off into a sigh of content as you slowly sunk onto his length.

Poe had pictured being with you like this many times in his life, certainly more than he’d like the admit. But even combined, none of those fantasies could come close to how it felt to bring your bodies together, the fucking ecstasy, the sight of his cock splitting you open as you slowly took him inch by inch. Your hands tangled in his hair again as a low, continuous whine fell from your lips. Your face was slightly scrunched as you tried to relax and accommodate him, and Poe was enraptured, watching everything with his hands at your hips.

You were devastating. And you were his.

Poe hurled headfirst into oblivion as you settled fully on his lap, a groan escaping as your tight heat clenched around him, and it was all he could do to speak, to just tell you how perfect you were. “Baby, oh fuck, I love you,” He leaned back slightly, dropping one arm to brace on the bed and then gripping your hip with the other. Poe set a slow and deliberate pace with his feet pressing into the baseboard of his bed. He rolled up, then back, his cock dragging halfway out before sinking back into you as you gripped his shoulders and whimpered above him.

It was sensual, soft, each movement like a slow dance, your hips rolling down to meet his in perfect harmony with his thrusts. You were biting your lip, eyes locked on Poe’s, and he could feel you flutter around him every time he groaned; so he let himself make noise, let you hear how good you made him feel, grunting and cursing with every blissful motion.

Even though the pleasure kept mounting Poe didn't want to rush this, so he moved at the same pace for a long time. Occasionally stopping completely when he was fully inside of you and relishing the sensation until you whimpered and he would move again with a grunt. It was divine, perfection...you. It was all you.

“Poe,” You whimpered as you moved one hand from his shoulder to push into his curls, urging him toward you as you leaned down and pressed your lips to his. He kissed you slowly as well, licking into your mouth, over your lips, drinking up your moans, until eventually it wasn’t enough for you and you made a noise in your throat, a little frustrated sound that made him smirk. Made him even fucking harder.

Without warning he sat forward, brought both hands to your hips and slammed you down onto his cock, using his strength to lift and drop you. “Sweet girl,” Poe grunted as your head tilted back in a silent cry, “That’s it, cum for me, let me feel you, baby, please.” He was desperate to feel you cum on his cock, pulling out and then slamming you back down, meeting you halfway as you struggled to hold in your noises, and Poe let loose another round of groans that seemed to propel you straight over the edge.

Your body curved forward as you came, one of your hands shooting to cover your own mouth as you sobbed in pleasure. He kept moving, watching your face rapturously until a strong clench around his cock drew his gaze downward. He had a moment to recognize what was about to happen before roaring in delight as you squirted for him again, the hot wetness coating his lap. The room filled with the wet slapping sounds of your body meeting his and Poe had to actively work not to cum, setting his jaw and gripping your hips with almost bruising strength.

“Ahh,” You whimpered, your legs going limp. Before you could fully collapse into Poe, he flipped you onto your back and started to fuck you into his mattress while peppering you with soothing kisses, “Oh Poe, more!”

He was right there, nearing the edge and yet savouring every deep thrust into your tight cunt. His movements were getting sloppy now, and he wasn’t even trying to hold back his noises because you felt so fucking good and this was so perfect and he loved you so much.

“Oh baby, baby-” He slammed into you one last time, dropping most of his weight down onto you and filling you deeply as he began to cum, his hips stuttering. You were moaning for him, weakened legs hooking behind his ass to draw him closer as he filled you, “I love you, I love you, I love you-“ He couldn’t stop saying it now, his head dropping to your shoulder-careful to avoid your injured throat-he just kept repeating himself between grunts.

As he started to come down from the high, he realized you were speaking, your voice a whisper in his ear, hands stroking his hair. “I love you too, Poe, my Poe,” He was gasping now, everything that had transpired catching up to him in the clarity of post-orgasmic bliss and your words brought his emotions back to the forefront.

He made to move back, only you stopped him, keeping him close. He looked at you, “You okay, my sweet girl?” Stars, you looked fucked out in the best ways and he swore he could cum again just at the sight of you as drunk on him as he was on you.

You nodded, giving him a soft little smile, “Just stay inside me a little longer.”

Fuck, you were going to kill him, you were so hot.

As much as he liked the idea, he didn’t want to stay on top of you and crush you, so he considered carefully before rolling you both, settling himself into the bed as you lay atop him, whimpering at the movement before resting your head on his chest. He’d started to soften inside of you, but remaining in your warmth kept him semi-hard, not something he’d ever done before and yet he decided at that moment he wanted to do it all the time.

“That was...you are perfect, you know that? Dreamt of you my whole life and that was better than I ever could have imagined.” Poe beamed at you when you looked up at him, your eyes bright. He had never been so radiantly happy in his entire life.

You reached up and ran your hand along his jaw, “Says the man who made me squirt. Twice.” You gigged, and he gazed at you for a moment before responding.

“You’ve done that before, yeah?”

When you shook your head, Poe felt a mixture of both surprise and pride swell within him, and you read that in his expression. “Yes flyboy, that was all you.” Another throaty giggle, which then morphed into a full cough as you hit the limit on your poor vocal cords.

Poe was up in an instant, carefully slipping from you and hurrying to his fridge to get you water. He passed it to you and then went into his fresher to get a warm washcloth. You were gulping the water gratefully when he returned, your eyes raking over his body with a level of possessiveness that made his cock twitch. You wanted him to yourself as much as he wanted you to himself, that much was now abundantly clear.

“Alright, sweet girl, let me take care of you,” He whispered, running the washcloth gently through your folds and tidying you up. You cooed softly, relaxing into the bed. When he was satisfied, he lifted you into his arms and carried you into the fresher to set you on his toilet. “You pee, I’m going to change the sheets.” And he wiggled his brows at you, earning him another big smile that settled right down into his oversized heart.

A short while later Poe Dameron was laying in his bed with you held in his arms. This was not the first time in his life that he drifted off to sleep with you, but it was the first time you were both nude and satisfied and so wholly consumed with your love for one another.

It was the first time he would wake in the middle of the night, hard and aching, only to find you already awake and needy for him, moaning when he rocked his hips into you and fucked you slow.

It was the first time since Charlie’s funeral that Poe would sleep entirely at peace, wrapped around his soulmate.

+

If you thought making love with Poe Dameron was perfect beyond expectations, it almost made it unfair how fucking good he was at eating you out.

You’d both woken late the morning after coming together and felt ready for more-you wanted him inside of you again. Only he insisted he hadn’t gotten anywhere near his fill of tasting you last night. Now he was happily lapping between your folds with his skilled, hot tongue and absolutely wrecking you, one hand clamped over your mouth to keep you quiet because he knew how fucking good he was.

You saw it the first time he’d made you squirt and then watched it solidify when you admitted you’d never done so before. It was hot, seeing the mixture of passion and cockiness, skill and care. You fell more and more in love with him throughout the night, when you came together and fit so perfectly, and now you were about ready to beg him for his cock before he killed you with his mouth.

When you came again for him, you were spent and though you did get wetter, you didn’t squirt. He didn’t mind, eagerly drinking up what you did give him before moving to kiss your thighs, then eased your legs together and began to massage the aching muscles. “Such a good girl,” He praised, his muscular figure drawing your eyes. You hadn’t realized how talkative, how much noise he would make, and it was the hottest shit. His groans were downright sinful, were what sent you rocketing into your orgasms the night before. “I should keep you here all day, wet and ready for me.”

“Fuck,” You replied, the words shooting straight to your core even after all of the orgasms you’d had. You sat up, struggling slightly and Poe reached out and gripped your arms, lifting you in another show of his strength that made you kind of dizzy with lust. “You’re insatiable. But we’re having lunch with Tahla, remember?”

Realization flashed over his face and he glanced over at his wrist comm next to the bed, relaxing when he saw there was still time before lunch. “Shit, I forgot. He’s leaving soon though, right? So I don’t want to bail.”

“Next week,” Poe moved to sit next to you, both of your backs against the wall now. He pulled the blanket from where it had been kicked to the end of his bed to cover you both. “He said something...that sort of made me realize how stupid I was being, right before I saw you yesterday.”

Poe turned his head to face you, his arms circling your waist and tugging you close to his side, “Oh? What did our wise, filter-free friend say?”

You giggled, then cleared your achy throat, “I had said I was going to miss him when he left and he told me he’d come back for our wedding.” You thought Poe would laugh with you, or at least scoff, but instead, he’d gone quiet and his expression turned inward in a way you couldn’t read. You hesitated a moment before tilting your head into his line of sight, though his mind was clearly a million miles away, “Poe?”

He looked at you then, for what felt like the first time in your life because of how intense his expression was, filled with love and something you couldn’t get a read on.

“I’m sorry,” He began, shaking his head a little, “I just...you are the love of my life. I meant everything I said last night.”

Warmth filled you as he spoke; you weren’t sure you’d ever get used to him saying such perfect things to you. Saying he loved you. “I know, Poe, I meant everything too.” You assured him, brushing your hair over his forehead to push back some stray curls.

Poe nodded, his expression still intense, eyes bright, “We’ve lost a lot of time, sweet girl. But I don’t want to waste another minute. I-” He paused, and you were growing increasingly confused. When he suddenly pulled away standing up to cross his room, your curiosity spiked, confusion at an all-time high.

Until that is, you saw what he was doing.

He was pulling something out of the inner breast pocket of his flight suit, lifting a chain and then turning to you back at the bed. He glanced between his hand and you once, stealing himself before dropping down to one knee next to the bed.

“Maybe he won’t have to come back for our wedding,” Poe opened his palm to reveal exactly what you knew he kept in his flight suit, “Maybe he’s here just in time. Marry me, (y/n). I love you and I never want to spend another minute without you. You are my soulmate, so please marry me, sweet girl.”

Your eyes fell from the passionate look on Poe’s face to his mother’s wedding band that lay in his outstretched hand.

+

34 ABY - Aftermath of the Battle of Takodana - D’Qar

Climbing from his ship with his adrenaline running high thanks to the success on Takodana, Poe turned and gasped when saw his droid, the orange and white blur zooming over to him. “BB8 my buddy!” He cried, dropping to his knees, “It’s so good to see you!” He looked the droid over, happy to see it looked to be in good shape.

BB8 beeped, excitedly explaining what had happened to it, “What? Saved you? Where is he?” He asked, the droid responding quickly and Poe glanced up, eyes landing on the defected ex-Storm Trooper who had saved Poe. Holy shit!

Finn spotted Poe at the same time and began running forward, “Poe?” He called, and Poe rose to his feet and started towards him, still reeling in surprise that Finn was here, that he was okay.

Poe felt himself grin, “Oh no!”

“Poe Dameron, you’re alive?”

Rushing up to Finn, Poe gasped out, “Buddy!” He pulled his new friend in for a hug, “So are you!” And he looked well enough, thankfully, too. Poe had worried he’d been captured back by the First Order after he couldn’t find him on Jakku.

“What happened to you?

“What happened to me? I got thrown from the crash. Woke up at night-no you, no ship, nothing,” Poe released Finn, pointing to him and then to his droid, “Listen, BB8 says that you saved him.”

“No, no, it wasn’t just me-“

Poe stepped closer to Finn, needing the man to understand, “You completed my mission Finn, I-that’s my jacket.” His gaze dropped to the jacket-his jacket- that Finn was wearing.

Finn glanced down, “Oh,” And he started to take it off and suddenly, Poe realized he didn’t need the jacket back, that Finn needed it more.

“No, keep it,” He punched Finn’s arm affectionately, “It suits you.”

Finn stopped and straightened, his eyes roving over Poe once again, “I still can’t believe your alive, Poe.”

Poe laughed, grasping his friends' shoulders, “You’ve got no idea what I have to live for, Finn. Dying ain’t an option.”

Tags

@mermaidxatxheart @foxilayde @eleinemk @paintballkid711 @mylifeisactuallyamess @20th-centu-fairy-girl @deitysnips @cannedsoupsucks @ubri812 @poedameronloverx @hoeforthefictional @astrological-bitch @itsnottilly@itsdameron @alex-sulli @generousrunawaydonut @wildmoonflower @onlyferorder66 @deanandbobbymcgee @afootnoteinyourhappiness

[heliads]

Firestarter

Y/N L/N is a S.H.I.E.L.D. agent with the ability to control fire. She keeps her powers hidden to protect herself, although she doesn’t count on accidentally revealing them to Steve Rogers when she saves his life.

masterlist

You open your hand. Slowly, carefully. The flames spring up almost involuntarily, a gut instinct that you can’t seem to turn off. You stare for a while, and when you look away you can still see the inverses dancing across the walls. Hot tongues of fire that lick across your palm, soaring higher and higher with the slightest impulse.

You suppose you would appreciate your powers if it weren’t for your line of work. You became a S.H.I.E.L.D. agent before you realized their true attitudes towards people with abilities, and you’d discovered soon after that if you wanted to survive and stay out of the labs, you would need to keep your little fire habit a secret. No matter what all-inclusive, power-friendly aura S.H.I.E.L.D. wanted to give off, they would always distrust and disregard people with abilities.

Even the best of you, the Maximoff twins, were greeted with raised eyebrows and knives up sleeves instead of open arms. Maybe that was because they were given their powers by HYDRA, but you knew better. It wasn’t the specific organization that bothered S.H.I.E.L.D., it was the fact that they had no way of controlling that much power. The only way S.H.I.E.L.D. dealt with superhuman abilities was by either taking them in or taking them out. If they were to find out that you, a high ranking agent with plenty of clearance codes, had powers, they’d kill you. They can’t take risks like that, not with someone like you.

That’s why you never let anyone see the flames darting from your hands and lighting up your eyes. That’s why you wait until you’re alone, in a room with no security cameras, to call up the first few sparks. It hurts to go without using your powers for that long, but the alternative is so much worse. As a senior S.H.I.E.L.D. operative, you’ve had the gruesome pleasure of seeing the labs firsthand. S.H.I.E.L.D. claims that the labs are harmless, only taking in willing participants so that their scientists can learn more about the complex world of those with power and those without. You’ve heard the screams to know that all of this is a lie, that nobody goes to those labs willingly. So, you play the part of the powerless, pretending that you’re a perfectly ordinary person, even if nothing could be further from the truth.

There’s a knock at your door and you snap your hand shut like a compact. When you slowly open your fingers once more, the tendrils of flame are gone. You wave your hand to disperse the last few curling fingers of smoke from the room, then call out to your visitor. “Come in.” A few moments later, a tall, familiarly strapping man enters the room. You smile at him. “Steve Rogers, what a surprise. To what do I owe this visit?”

Steve holds out a hand to you and you take it, standing up from your chair. “Have you forgotten already? We’ve got that debriefing from Cox in a couple of minutes.” You groan. “That’s why you came over? I thought it was something good.” Steve chuckles. “No. I refuse to go alone.” He’s already opening the door, tugging you out into the hallway despite your protests. “I was going anyway, there’s no need to drag me over.” The two of you walk side by side down the corridor, slowly making your way towards the debriefing room. Steve glances over at you, a joking smile on his face. “I know you were, I was just checking in to make sure you weren’t ditching me.”

You pull a face. “You’re a terrible friend.” Steve says nothing, just holds open the door to the debriefing room with a grin. He follows you inside, although the two of you walk to different sides of the room once the door closes behind you. Steve is an Avenger, he’ll sit with Sam, Natasha, and the rest. Despite your years of experience fighting alongside the Avengers, you’re still a S.H.I.E.L.D. agent, and so you slide into a chair next to your coworkers.

A couple of minutes later, a man walks into the room and takes a stance at the front of the room. His hair is slightly too greasy, eyes slightly too cold. You and Steve share a mutual hatred of this man, Edward Cox, and you’re not looking forward to hearing him boss you around for the next hour or so. You suppose that he is technically a good S.H.I.E.L.D. agent, and it’s impossible to rise to his level without shedding all of your morals, but that doesn’t make listening to him speak any easier.

This is especially true today. The mission itself should be fascinating- some twisted soul named Isaiah Crane has taken control of some massive warehouse complex, and he’s filling it with an army of soldiers and weapons. It’s your typical Avengers threat, made more interesting by the fact that Crane is an utter madman. His every move is calculated yet wild, and it’s practically impossible to guess what he’ll do next. His forces have already begun expanding out, displacing and injuring hundreds of civilians, and so the Avengers and S.H.I.E.L.D. have been called in.

Cox, however, makes it sound like the dullest training excursion on the planet. “Remember, you’ll get in and get out. Try not to fight amongst yourselves, we’ll have to order you out. We don’t want another Sokovia Accords, do we, folks? Anyways, just take out Crane and his men. Don’t bother with the civilians, they’ll only get in the way.” Across the room, you see Steve straighten up. “What do you mean, don’t bother with the civilians? According to these reports, they’re being rounded up and killed or forced out of their homes. We should be helping them, it’s our job.”

Cox frowns over at Steve, evidently displeased over the interruption. “No, Rogers, you’re here to take down Crane. There’s a difference. Save the petty rescues for the fire department.” You wince slightly at that. It’s like Cox is actively trying to set Steve off. “You’re talking about hundreds of people who are in danger, who we could save in a fraction of the time it would take the local reinforcements. Why shouldn’t we be helping them?” Cox fiddles with the papers in front of him. “Because those are your orders, Rogers. You don’t need the people, just the man. Crane.”

You can see that Steve is seconds away from exploding on the guy, so you raise a hand. Cox turns to you, evidently assuming that you’ll be defending him. You’ve seen how Cox works, he tends to appreciate some sticking to the rules. You can use this against him; if you don’t, he’ll never let you speak in the first place. “Actually, I think Steve is right. I wouldn’t be surprised if Crane tries to use the chaos of the fleeing civilians to protect himself. By getting all of them out of harm’s way, we clear the path to him.”

Cox’s smile fades. “I would have expected a senior officer to understand the basic truths. We can’t save everybody, that’s a dream for the children.” You ignore the jibe. “You cited the Sokovia Accords as an example of things we should be avoiding. The only reason we were able to survive to make those accords in the first place was because of the success of Sokovia itself. The Sokovia incident would have been considered a disaster were it not for the fact that the Avengers were able to save all of the civilians. Yes, they had to battle Ultron, but their main victory was the countless lives saved.”

Cox opens his mouth as if to contradict you, but now Steve sees what you’re saying. “Exactly. Crane is our Ultron right now, but we have to save the people. End of story.” Cox glares at you both, but the rest of the room is nodding in agreement, so he’s forced to drop the matter. For the rest of the debriefing, though, his words come out as spiked weapons that he shoots at you and Steve, vindictive in his rage at being publicly humiliated.

Steve, on the other hand, does not consider this a victory. You can tell that he’s still furious at Cox for so casually throwing away the lives of the civilians, and he strides briskly away from the room the second the debriefing is over. You collect your things and follow him into an empty room. Steve looks up when you close the door behind him, evidently unsurprised to see you. Anger seems to course from his every vein. You forget how he gets sometimes, when he’s let down time and time again by the fools of S.H.I.E.L.D. who think they can toss aside hundreds of lives for a cleaner mission.

Steve’s voice is laced with vitriol. “I can’t believe him. I honestly can’t believe him. How could he go up there and tell us all to let those innocents die? I don’t think he even saw a problem with it.” He begins to pace back and forth, energy seemingly bounding from his every motion. “This entire organization is paved with blood, and they’re the ones holding all the strings. How do you live with yourself, knowing this is happening every day?” The second the words leave his mouth, Steve looks up, regret already beginning to color his eyes. “I didn’t mean that.”

You hold up a hand to stem his apologies. “Yes, you did, and it’s fine. S.H.I.E.L.D. has never had time for the lives it plays with, and you’re right to say it. To be honest, I’m not sure that there is a way to live with the knowledge. You just have to push it aside, because there’s no better way to do what has to be done.” You glance over at him, smiling slightly. “The problem is that you’re Captain America, and everyone expects you to always make the perfect choice no matter what. Perfect choices where everyone ends up alive and well don’t exist, yet if you don’t make that decision, you’re hunted for it. We don’t get happy endings in this line of work, we just have to make do with what we have. Maybe we have to accept the worse choices right now, but we can take steps to make them better.”

Steve nods, and you can tell that he’s beginning to calm down. “That’s the worst part of it. There are so many expectations, and it’s impossible to live up to all of them.” You incline your head in acknowledgement. “For what it’s worth, I think you’re doing a pretty good job of it.” You lean forward and press a kiss to his cheek before slipping from the room. Even as you walk away, you can still feel your lips burning. For a spy who’s not supposed to get hung up over her emotions, you’re doing a pretty bad job of it.

It’s difficult to describe the relationship you have with Steve Rogers. You’ve been enemies, you’ve been friends. You’ve had each other’s backs. There have been nights when alcohol burns like kerosene down your throat, when you spend the night between his sheets and wake up again the next morning to steal away before he wakes. The best way to describe what you have with Steve is that it’s whatever the two of you need at the moment. Maybe it’s a friend, maybe it’s more. By uttering a word about it, you’re afraid you’ll shatter those quiet moments and cut the fragile string tying you to him for good.

By the next morning, you’ve forced thoughts of him from your head once more. You’re heading down the landing of the quinjet, gun held at the ready. The steady rattle of gunfire echoes around you, and just like that, the fight to reach Isaiah Crane has begun. You and the rest of the Avengers rush to the civilians, getting them to safety before the inevitable call crackles through your earpiece, announcing that Crane is in the building. This is your one shot at him, you have to make it count.

The group of fighters enters the building, one person for each entrance. You make your way through the twisting halls of the complex, but you never catch sight of him. You come out of a narrow passageway to find yourself suddenly swallowed up by a main room. Across the space, you can see the rest of the Avengers emerging from doors. It looks like you’ve all been led here, trapped in this one space by the elusive Crane. Just as you realize this, the bombs go off and you’re thrown to the ground.

There must have been explosives lining the floor. Dust hangs thick and heavy in the air, and the bombs keep on going off, one after another. A chain reaction, which ends with the ceiling beginning to shake and tumble down. Your eyes are drawn to the thick concrete of the building’s structure, which is just now falling down on top of you. Your legs itch to run, to do something, but there’s nowhere to go. The only thing you can do is hope for the best, which is that this column falling on you won’t entirely shatter you.

Just as you’re preparing yourself for the impact, a figure darts over to you, pulling you to them protectively. You realize it’s Steve, and he flings his shield over your huddled bodies just before the roof caves in. There’s an overwhelming blow, but after a few tense minutes, you realize you’re still alive and relatively unharmed. Slowly, carefully, Steve stands up, and you do too. You stare in shock at the room around you. Columns of concrete have come tumbling down, and the room is in shambles. Rubble and large chunks of the roof have caved in around you, and it’s impossible to see anything farther than a few feet ahead of you.

You reach to your earpiece, turning it on. “This is Agent L/N. Can anyone read me? Over.” You wait a couple of seconds, then repeat your message. There is no response, just the crackling of static. Steve shakes his head. “I’m not getting anything either. I think we’re on our own.” You bite your cheek, thinking. “This was Crane’s plan. He wanted to get us alone.” Steve nods. “I don’t think we have much of a choice about it, though. There’s a way out under the rubble, and I think it goes deeper into the complex. It looks like it’s our only option.”

The two of you duck underneath the piles of debris, skirting around the edges of the room to find the chink in the armor that Steve was talking about. It seems to lead to a broader expanse of hallway, one that wasn’t connected to any doors leading outside. You look down the dimly lit hall, uneasy. “I have a bad feeling about this. This has got to be a trap.” Steve sighs. “I don’t think there’s any way it isn’t a trap. Crane must have set it up- whoever survives the explosives makes it over to him. I hate to say it, but it’s the only thing we can do. At least we can finish this.”

You nod, and the two of you begin walking down the hallway. You keep your eyes open and alert for any threats, any new explosives or ambushes, but there’s nothing there. At last, the hallway opens up into a seemingly empty room. You and Steve look at each other, and you see your same apprehension reflected on his face. Steve holds out an arm to stop you from walking any further. He speaks quietly, mouth an inch or two away from your ear. “Stay back here. I’ll go in alone, you’ll watch my back. If Crane thinks he’s going to be holding all the cards, I want at least one ace up my sleeve.”

You nod slowly. “Be careful.” Steve smirks. “Always am.” With that, he slings his shield off of his shoulder, holding it out in front of him like the knights of old. You watch as he disappears around the corner, footsteps echoing off of the high ceiling. There’s a noise from across the room, barely noticeable. Steve, of course, is used to doing the impossible and his head turns towards the sound. He strides further into the room, investigating the sudden sound. He is slowly swallowed up by the shadows of the room, and you squint as your eyes adjust to the darkness.

At first, you think you’re just making things up. Then, the slight movement comes again, strengthening as it passes close by the lights of the hall. You take a slow, silent step forward and your eyes widen as you see the figure drawing close to Steve. The silhouette has its back to you, and you creep out of the hall and into the room, curious. With a chill, you realize that this is Crane, and he’s about to attack Steve, who has no idea that the enemy he’s been tracking is right behind him. Steve is still walking through the room, completely unaware of the man about to kill him. Crane raises his arm, a gun in his hand. You can see a demented grin on Crane’s face as he aims at Steve’s skull. His finger pauses on the trigger.

You don’t think, not at all. Before you know it, your arm is raised, a swarm of fire billowing out of your hand and engulfing Crane whole. It knocks him over, a shriek of pain issuing from his mouth as the gun misfires. Steve whirls around and sees Crane at last, but it doesn’t matter. The man is out cold, burns blossoming in a sickening shine all over his body. He won’t wake up for a while, and when he does, he’ll be in so much pain that he’ll barely be able to stand, let alone try to kill Steve once more.

This means that Steve’s eyes are moving up, from Crane to you. You watch as the understanding dawns in his eyes, as he looks between the flames still dying out on the ground around Crane to your outstretched hand. Once again, your mind goes silent and you don’t think, just act. You’ve felt fear before, the terrifying, bone-chilling fear that you are about to die. You’ve known the terror of facing down impossible odds in a mission that was doomed from the start. All of those are manageable, but this right here? This suffocating knowledge that you’re about to experience the worst agony of your life, that Steve is going to tell S.H.I.E.L.D. about your powers and you’re going to be sent to those accursed labs, this is the most petrifying fear you have ever known.

You turn and run, heels flashing down the hall. You don’t know why you’re sprinting down the corridor, why this will make a difference. All you know is that you have to get away, you have to leave before the truth comes to light. Yet you forget that Steve is a super soldier, someone who can outpace anyone in a heartbeat. Within seconds, he’s catching up to you, and then his arm is reaching out and grabbing yours, stopping you in your tracks. He pulls you over to the side of the hall, your back up against the wall. He stares at you, and you stare at him.

Steve is the first to speak. “Why didn’t you tell me you had powers? Why did you run?” The words bubble out of you, a torrent of terror. “They’re going to kill me. S.H.I.E.L.D. They’re going to bring me to those labs and take me apart over and over again. Just kill me now, it’ll be faster.” Steve shakes his head. “I’m not going to do that. I’m not going to let them do that.” A laugh, bitter and jaded and cold, flies from your throat. “You don’t have a choice. None of us do.” 

Steve’s face is set, eyes determined. “There are no functioning security cameras in this building, not after that explosion. We’re going to say that Crane got caught by his own bombs, and that’s why he was burned. We’re not going to say anything about you, because you were with me and no one else knows.” You stare at Steve mutely as he continues speaking. “There’s no way S.H.I.E.L.D. could know unless we tell them, and we’re not. You’ll be safe, and no one is going to hurt you.” You feel like the ground has been ripped away from underneath you. “Why would you do that? If they find out, they could take everything away from you. There’s no good reason to risk your job, your life, for what, someone you kiss a couple times a month? They’ll come after you.”

Steve’s arms are still wrapped around your waist, and you’re finding it difficult to think straight. “I left the Avengers and broke them apart because I wanted to protect my best friend. If S.H.I.E.L.D. tried to hurt you, someone I care about more than anyone? I would burn them all to the ground.” He flashes a sudden smile. “Although I’d appreciate it if you were there with me. You make a pretty good firestarter.” You laugh quietly in spite of yourself. “I’ll be there. Even without this whole mess. I don’t think I could leave you if I tried.” 

Steve nods, his eyes filling with a sudden warmth. “I’ve been wanting to hear you say that for a long time.” He leans forward and kisses you. It’s strange- you’ve kissed Steve many times, and probably a few other than those that you’ve forgotten. Yet you don’t think he’s ever kissed you like this, with the smile and the trust that you two will stay together, no matter what. He is kissing you like he loves you, and you feel the exact same way.

[starshipsofstarlord]

A Blast from the Past - Damon Salvatore x Reader

Summary: Once a year, Damon mopes, mourning over your death. However, you aren’t completely dead...

Damon sat at the bar, holding a glass in hand as he spewed advice to Matt who had called Stefan to pick him up. “Don’t ever ever ever fall in love Donovan. It squeezes your heart to the point where you struggle to breathe.” He finished what was in the glass, plonking it down onto the bar’s surface.

“I’m cutting you off.” Matt told him, finding it difficult to believe that Damon had experienced such an emotion. He didn’t care about people, he acted out of rage and not reason.

“On today? That’s harsh!” Damon pitied himself, pouting at the blonde.

Stefan sighed as he entered, hearing what his brother had said. After over a century, he seemed in as much pain as the day you died. He hurt too, but in a different, more recoverable way. He had just gone and laid some tulips on your grave, whereas Damon had been drowning himself in alcohol.

“Stefan!” Damon exclaimed as his brother stood him up, pulling him from the bar. “My dear little brother, what are you doing here? Do you want a drink?”

Drink was not medicine, no matter what the elder vampire thought. “Thanks for calling.” Stefan nodded at Matt, who was relieved to be able to attend other customers now.

He got him out the door, putting him in the car. “What flowers did you get her?” He never went to your grave on your anniversary, instead he paid his respects there every other Sunday, tracing the etching of your name on the stone.

“Her favourite.” Damon smiled, remembering how you would pick them and put them in a vase. Those were the good old days, where you were both young and human.

…..

Just the thought of you made him hang his head. You had died, and he hadn’t saved you. He was too slow, too human. “What happened couldn’t have been helped Damon.” It was the same thing Stefan told him year after year, but it didn’t stop the ache in his chest.

Damon grabbed a bottle of bourbon, watching as Elena slunk her way into the room. He rolled his eyes, finding it unfair how his brother could feel love, even it was the doppelganger of his wicked ex.

“Matt said he was in the bar since this morning.” Elena told Stefan, caressing his arm. Damon could obviously hear her, but opted not to respond. This had nothing to do with her, and he’s be damned if he told her how he was feeling, more specifically how he wanted to rip his own heart out and lay it on your grave.

“That doesn’t surprise me.” Stefan often wondered what Damon did all of those years they were separated. He would be alone, mourning the love of his life.

….

You had been watching Damon from the bar, having taken a seat at the back. He did this every year, and it made you feel guilty. You wished you could have prevented your death, but alas, you couldn’t have.

“I love your jacket!” A blonde came up to you, bringing her drink over. You could smell the death off her, she was a vampire. “I’m Caroline by the way.” She held her hand out, and you accepted it.

“(Y/N), and thanks.” You were glad some people paid you mind, instead of ignoring you and allowing you to rot in the backseat of their lives. 

Not only were you watching Damon today, but you were mourning yourself, it had became a habit after watching him for so long. This was the reason you never celebrated Valentine's Day, it had been the last day you were human and the first day you were a vampire.

….

“He’s mourning.” Stefan informed his girlfriend, who was shocked that was something Damon did.

“He cared for someone?” Everything she had seen Damon do had a self serving purpose. He had tried finding Katherine so that he could kill her, as revenge for turning you into a corpse.

Damon just glared at Elena, he didn’t want her in his sight today. At all. She was too identical to your killer for his liking. “I loved someone.” He spoke, taking another swig. “And she died.”

Stefan shook his head, he had been following Damon’s ritual for decades, but he had seen your face. “She’s in town Damon.”

“She still died Stefan. The girl I love had her liver ruptured by a bullet, and she bled out onto the ground of this town!” 

“I thought she was dead.” Elena had become confused with their back and forth, their points contradicting each other’s.

“She is.” Damon said.

“Katherine turned her before she turned us. She was never the same, and since we’ve treated her like a ghost.” Admitting all of this made a weight lift off of Stefan’s chest, but it didn’t lessen the guilt. He knew it was wrong treating you as they had, but you were crazed with a need for blood and passion to revel in your life as a vampire. You had been, at least.

“Go ahead Stefan, tell Gilbert here everything!” Damon left, knowing where his next destination would be.

….

Damon had walked to your grave, no vamp speed, just walked. He needed the time to think about how things may have been different if he had just let you back in.

He smiled as he saw the tulips Stefan had left. “You were always more beautiful than these things.” He spoke, reading your name, shaking his head at the date. Valentine’s day was supposed to be filled with love, but instead you had laid pool of blood in the grass instead of rose petals.

“They’re not my favourite anymore.” You walked up behind him, sitting upon the empty grave.

“They were hers.” Damon didn’t look at you, instead he focused on the stone. It was like it was your ghost, but you were really here. “She should have lived out a happy life, had children, a steady marriage.”

“That girl only wanted all of that with you.” It was true, even if Katherine had spared you, your past self wouldn’t have moved on. “But she can’t have those children, she’s to spend lifetimes being pushed away from the man she loved and to suffer from the curse.”

Finally, Damon looked at you, noticing how much you had changed since the last time he saw you. You were tame, there was no wound on your stomach. You still resembled a part of that girl. “She pushed me away first when she made me into what I am today.”

That was your deepest regret, listening to Katherine and obeying her orders. You bit your lip, thinking of what you were to say. “There’s not a day I don’t regret what I did to you Damon. I hate myself for it, I want to be that girl again.”

“Then be her.” He told you, grabbing your face to be between his palms. “Save me from having to drown my sorrows and treat you like someone else.”

Instantly you nodded, a few tears slipping from the both of yours eyes.

….

Stefan entered his home, Elena in tow. There was a mess down every hall way, things were knocked over and broken. “Damon’s home.” Stefan said.

Elena walked into the living room, seeing movement from two bodies on the sofa. “And he’s not alone.” Stefan instantly came in, gasping at seeing your face.

You covered yourselves before turning to look at the intruders. “Katherine?” You were going to kill her.

[crazyyanderefangirlfan]

Bring on the Mania! pt. 5

For the next two hours, they played various board games. Although there were some they had to stop halfway, such as Twister. Whenever Amane would hover one of the boys, he would gently nip on anything he could get his mouth on. This caused them to either; shudder under him, or lose balance and fall. They finally stopped when Amane tried to nibble on Epel's neck, the said boy knee him on the gut out of surprise. Lisha couldn't stop laughing at him.

Another was Old maid. Ace and Grim kept on cheating, which resulted in an argument; it would have gone physical if Valerie hadn't slapped them in the back of their heads. She then scolded them like children. They would have protested if Lisha wasn't in front of them, glaring and waiting for them to give her reason to peck them.

So here they are, playing monopoly with Ace, Jack, and Sebek taking the lead. Valerie and Deuce were tied, with Epel behind them and Amane and Grim in jail.

"This game sucks!" Grim cried out in frustration. "This isn't fair! I am the great and powerful Grim! How could I lose so many times!?"

"Not my fault you suck so hard." Ace snickered at the enraged monster.

"It's just a game; no need to throw a tantrum." Sebek remarked. Grim growled in response.

The fae took the dice, and it rolled into a four, making him ahead of everyone else. The game continued with no more complaints, but an occasional grumble from Grim. It ended with Jack being the winner.

Amane covered his, mouth letting out a yawn. All these games were boring him; he needed excitement, something to get his blood pumping. He glanced at the pillows, then an idea popped in his head.

"Hey Val, could you get me some water?" He asked the girl when he saw her standing up. 

"Sure, Amane."

He smirked internally. He waited till Valerie was a few meters away from him. 

Then, he struck.

The young brunette stopped in her tracks when she felt something soft collided with her back. Behind her, she could hear the cackles of a demon.

"Aw, what's wrong Vally? Can't take a hit? I know you were pampered by these boys but to this extent? Damn." He jeered, unaware of the petrified looks the rest of the boys had.

"Amane, you shouldn't have done that." Jack hissed. He cast his eyes to the girl, who slowly turned to face them.

Amane waved his hand dismissively. "Oh, it's fine. She can take it; it's just a pill-OW!"

The hetero-eyed male was suddenly knocked down to the floor. He painfully sat up and rubbed his face; it felt like a brick hit him. He looked down; it was the same pillow he used on Valerie. Slowly, he lifted his head.

Valerie had a soft smile on her face; that completely contradicted the look in her eyes. There was a fierce glint; excitement and viciousness danced within it. Then, she spoke in a soft but firm voice.

"I accept your declaration of war."

The poor man felt two pairs of hands grab his arms, dragging him all the way to the other room. On the way, he saw the rest of the guys carrying dozens of pillows in their arms.

"You boys better get ready. Cause when I get like this: mercy doesn't exist." 

Her words left a cold feeling within their bodies. It sounded so sickeningly sweet it could have been poison.

They finally let Amane go once they deemed themselves secured and scolded the demon.

"Are you insane!? Do you realize what you did!?" Ace screamed at his face. Being shorter, he grabbed his shirt and brought him down to his eye level. Letting Amane get a clear view of his aggravated cherry-red eyes.

"U-Uh...W-What did I do?" Amane stammered.

"Throwing that pillow at her!" Grim snapped.

"I was joking-" The incubi tried to defend himself but was cut off.

"Joke or not, she will finish what you started; and she'll make it as painful as possible." Epel shuddered.

He just stared at them bug-eyed. "What's with you guys? It's just Valerie."

"You don't know Valerie as we do." Sebek chimed in. "To her, this is a declaration of war, one that she will win."

"She's always been competitive; she never goes back at a challenge. No matter how impossible it seems. She's stubborn like that." Jack added.

"Valerie will do whatever it takes to win. She isn't above using physical pain to get it." Deuce explained.

"You saw the way she dug her nails into you to comply with her demand; that should have been your warning." Deuce looked at him expectantly. 

He thought back at times when she did that, his body went rigid. The boys nodded knowingly when it all clicked to the midnight haired male.

"Valerie may appear harmless, but she's just as dangerous." Jack continued.

"Oh fuck, what are we going to do?" Panic set in Amane's voice as he thought of dozens of ways that Valerie could torture them.

"Only thing we can do." Ace announced, picking up a pillow, cocking it like a gun.

"Try and survive her reign of terror."

They armed themselves with as many pillows they can hold and slowly creep back into the lounge. Sebek peeked inside, noticing the girl wasn't there; he signaled the rest to follow him. 

"Where is she?" Asked Grim.

A sweet giggle answered his question and formed a circle. 

"Alright, come out, Val!" Epel hollered. That just earned him more giggles. Everybody raised their pillows, trying to anticipate where she might strike. 

"Is she always like this when someone challenges her?" Amane hissed.

"You're lucky a food fight didn't happen today." Sebek shuddered. "It happened last week. So many were lost."

"Ehhh!?"

"He meant that they were in the infirma-RY!" Deuce clarified when a pillow hit his face, hard.

Panic surged through their bodies. Shit, it's starting.

"Ready yourselves! We've got a war to win!"

As soon as those words left Epel's lips, small pink and brown blurs zip through.

Grim was their first target. Lisha swooped to the ground and grabbed the cat monster by her talons.

"GAHH!!" She threw him high enough for Valerie to get a clean hit. The poor monster crashed into the wall, unconscious. 

Amane froze in shock at what he witnessed. "Oh, shit."

They scrambled for cover, realizing that their current position left them open. Unfortunately, Valerie was faster.

She nimbly moved her way to Epel, the said boy raised his pillow to strike her, but she threw one at his face.  Valerie delivered a swift jab on the gut, causing the boy to clutch his stomach in pain. He didn't get enough time to recover when Valerie smacked a pillow across his face. Just like that, he was out.

Sebek charged at her side, holding his pillow high. However, Lisha flew right in his face, obstructing his view. Sebek could taste Lisha's feathers in his mouth, prompting him to spit some out. Unfortunately, that gave the girl enough time to land a direct kick to his chest. Once he fell on the ground, Valerie dropped another pillow on his face and stomping her foot on it.

However, she was oblivious that Ace and Deuce were at her sides, steadily moving towards her, and prepping their pillows. While the girl continued to stomp Sebek's face, all with a cute but sadistic grin on her face. 

A firm but soft force repeatedly hit the opal-eyed girl. Both Heartslabyul students managed to successfully land blows on the girl, while Lisha kept Jack occupied. 

"Ouch! Lisha! Not too close to the eyes!" Jack lifted his pillow to shield his face from the strix's wrath.

Valerie winced under hits; though they weren't hard, they were enough to make her head a bit dizzy. Gritting her teeth, she seized both pillows shocking, (and scaring) both boys. She harshly pulled their arms to the opposite directions, making them bash their heads together and fall unconscious.

She stopped to catch her breath when a cruel ache suddenly throbbed a the side of her head, and the next thing she knew, she was on the floor. She hissed from the impact, glancing up she saw Jack glaring down at her.

Apparently, Jack used the Aduece duo as a distraction. The wolf beastman managed to knock Lisha off somewhere far away. The strix wasn't harmed but tired and dizzy from flying circles around him. He snuck up behind her and bashed her head; the force was enough to knock her down.

The girl rolled out of the way; she sprang back on her feet before Jack could smash another pillow on her. Valerie dashed behind a chair. But not before nabbing two pillows. 

"Hiding in your hole, Rabbit?" The wolf taunted.

"Better than foolishly getting myself killed." The girl retorted. She peeked over the chair to see Jack watching her. They held their gazes, waiting to make a move. 

Out of the corner of his eye, Jack spotted Amane snaking up to the girl. He made no sound and done a decent job getting closer to her.

Closer and closer.

Without even looking behind her, she chucked a pillow at the incubus; the force was enough for him to topple over. Unknowingly for him, he stepped on a cushion prompting him to slip and fall unconscious.

And once again, he was a lone wolf.

Jack bit his lips in irritation at Amane's sorry attempt for an ambush. Whatever happened to that fearsome demon two hours ago?

His ears twitched and muscles tensed up. Something wasn't right. He quickly swerved to the right, narrowly avoiding a kick to the face from the tiny girl. 

She landed with a heavy thud on the ground. Valerie wasted no time in grabbing as many pillows as she can; throwing them at the charging wolf. The large male simply dodged them and tackled the girl. He brought her arms above her head and pinned them. 

Valerie felt his hot breath on her face. Jack's face was awfully near to hers. His expression was contorted into a sneer, a deep growl rumbled in his chest. His grip on her wrists tightened as if warning her to remain docile.

'As if.' Valerie responded with a glare of her own. She wrapped her legs around him and pushed herself up to nibble on his neck. 

Jack could feel a wildfire spread across his face and an uncomfortable feeling forming in his shorts when she rubbed her chest on his own and gave his neck tiny licks. The action alone made the male above froze, and loosen his hold on her.

Snatching her wrists away, Valerie wrapped her arms around his neck. Fingers lightly skimming across his skin, she could feel Jack shivering under her touch before finally found the spot. She dug her fingers harshly on that spot.

The boy above stiffen before his body becoming slack and falling on top of her. Judging by the soft snore, it looks like she found the right pressure point.

Valerie gently lifted his body enough for her to roll out. She gave herself a good stretch before surveying the entire scene and dead bodies before her.

"I win."

A/N: Sorry it took so long to write, I got caught up in school. This also my first attempt to write a fight scene, I hope this was good.

[marybeatriceofmodena]

Ben Solo’s Story Arc - An Autopsy

This will be the second post before I publish the full TROS review, mainly because it’s yet another thing I want to get out of the way first. After which, I’ll be posting an announcement about the future of this blog, but no worries – I’ll be sticking around.

After Rey and her parentage, I’ll be talking about Ben here specifically – mainly because I have a pretty big inkling that his plotline for TROS was mutilated, and that he initially actually had an arc.

Except, somewhere in the executive meddling, for reasons I myself am not sure of (okay, I got some theories but it’s pointless to share them here), it got cut.

The Rise of Kylo Ren might be an inkling that there was something more in the works, also that when it comes to its take on Snoke, it directly contradicts things TROS sets up. The simplest explanation is that the Lucasfilm Story Group had a hand in TRoKR, and not for TROS. But even then… the comic reveals things that make me BAFFLED they didn’t put that in the films. I don’t want to be that person who thinks 30 minutes of TLJ should have been dedicated to Snoke’s origins, but stuff like how Ben didn’t even destroy Luke’s Jedi Camp? THAT’S the kind of thing you need to include in your film.

Also, I 110% believe the rumors that JJ Abrams just ignored the Story Group’s existence entirely. Wanna know why? Just the fact that Exogol is established as the Sith world… when we know thanks to The Clone Wars that it’s Moraband – which would have been super easy to use. But fuck continuity I guess.

I will say though, I am NOT surprised it’s leaking out that the movie was severely tempered with and was constantly changing during production, simply because from my first (and only) viewing… I could tell something was wrong. Namely, I could tell that Ben’s arc had been mutilated – and the more I think about it, the more glaring it gets. It’s not even that I’m mad that Adam Driver (aka Golden Globe/Academy Award nominee Adam Driver) gets relegated to playing Darth Exposition for 75% of the film (and godawful exposition at that), it’s literally that so much of what remains of his arc makes no sense, and it affects Palpatine and Rey by extension.

I explained why Rey’s character arc was butchered here, and I’ve also talked about how Palpatine’s implication in her arc didn’t work either, so I won’t talk about it too much here, nor do you need to have read it prior in order to understand this post. I will also point out that a lot of what will be my speculation – so for all I know, I could be wrong, but I’m trying to fill in the holes here.

So, for starters… somehow, Ben knows that Palpatine is still alive. Somehow, he knows how to get to him. AND SOMEHOW, THE WRITERS DECIDED NOT EXPLAINING SHIT WAS THE WAY TO GO. This is not even on the level of not explaining who the fuck Snoke is in the two previous films – while I do think there could have been a throwaway line in TLJ, it didn’t “hinder” the story.

HOWEVER, not explaining how Palpatine is still around and kicking (well, he’s on life support so kicking might be a little too flattering), why he decided to reveal himself right there, right then, and how the hell Ben knows he’s around, how he figured out how to get to Exogol using the holocrons… THAT IS A BIG PROBLEM. This is the triggering element of the rising action in your story. But before you do that, YOU. NEED. EXPOSITION. TO. SET. UP. THE. CONTEXT. OF. YOUR. STORY.

What TROS did would be like skipping Finn’s intro when he’s with his Stormtrooper squad on Jakku, removing the interrogation with Poe and Kylo entirely, and just start TFA with him escaping with Poe without any explanation given. Oh, and also cut out Rey’s introduction as well, and we first meet her when she kicks Finn’s ass in Niima Outpost. You’d just have a bunch of characters coming out of nowhere, and you’d have no frigging clue what they’re doing, and what they want. And that’s what TROS does with Ben and Palpatine.

Take the handling of Snoke, for instance. I’d be a lot more mad about the Snoke retconning if it wasn’t for… what I’m going to call the “Snoke Stew” (and I’d crack a joke about how it was probably made with the DNA of a guy called Stu, which is not funny but still funnier than most of the jokes in TROS). That’s pretty much the one thing that stops me from being mad, because of how STUPID it is.

But the explanation for Snoke’s origins just… retcons so much that has been established before, INCLUDING INFO FROM A COMIC THAT CAME OUT AFTER TROS. We knew Snoke had a past, even if we weren’t privy to it yet. We did kind of know that he was a rich guy, like all the shitty rich people we saw in Canto Bight, who happened to be a Dark Sider and was seemingly smart enough to kill his way to the top. Considering how exploitative the First Order is when it comes to resources and that a rich patron would be welcomed with open arms, it makes sense.

With the explanation given by TROS, it just provides a fuck ton of plotholes to the fact he took over the First Order while killing off old Imperial higher-ups to establish himself as Supreme Leader. Do you really think a guy in a golden bathrobe would just be able to take over out of fucking nowhere because he killed all the higher-ups? No. And even if some of the higher-ups knew that Snoke was a Palps plant (like Pryde seems to), I doubt Ben would have stayed Supreme Leader for as long as a year.

But that’s not even the biggest problem! Seriously, I don’t know if Palps is senile in this film, because we got an ENTIRE trilogy explaining how the guy is one of the worst evil masterminds to have ever lived, in the Galaxy Far Far Away and even in today’s culture. Here, you don’t even understand what the fuck he even wants! I’m “guessing” he fucked with Ben to get his revenge on Anakin, because he uses Ben as his lackey while being seemingly totally oblivious that Ben is working against him (what happened to “every voice in your head”???). He wants Ben to kill Rey… while knowing Rey is his granddaughter, and while telling her when she shows up that he wants to use her as a new host or some shit. Seriously, MAKE UP YOUR MIND ALREADY.

This said… I honestly wonder if Ben was initially meant to be the new host, and not Rey. Because not only that was an actual theory I had pre-TROS, but it would make a shit ton more sense than having Rey be the host – not to mention it’d be the ultimate revenge against Anakin (and if you want to get REAL yucky, he may have planned to have Rey be his new consort, but I’ll spare you more speculation about that aspect). But nah, I guess.

The most damning thing in all this is that there’s no difference in Ben’s overall behavior and actions AFTER Snoke has been killed, when it’s clear Snoke was the biggest influence on him. Saying that Palpatine just kept messing with him makes no sense because with Snoke dead, any voice Ben would still hear would make him go “NOPE” and do exactly the opposite of what said voice tells him to do.

Like, for real, with Snoke dead, unless he’s REALLY stupid (I mean… Ben is reckless, but not stupid), why would Ben do anything a now Random Voice would tell him to do?

The thing is, there have been hints in previous material that Ben isn’t exactly 110% on board with what the First Order does. He’s clearly against blowing up planets, he snarks about how Stormtroopers should be clones instead – which could just be a throwaway snarky line, but considering Ben’s past… I can see him not being too fuzzy about the Stormtrooper program. Like, I’m not saying he’d start a Galactic Free Donut Day, but there would be a change. It wouldn’t be Business as Usual – especially that Ben wasn’t that young (23) when he joined Snoke, and it’s a little hard to go from “My uncle tried to kill me in my sleep and I’m going towards the one figure I think can protect me” to “Blowing up planets and enslaving people is the way to go”. It would have worked if Ben had been brainwashed from his teens, but not so much as an adult – hence you need a little more nuance with Supreme Leader Kylo Ren.

Oh yeah, and the Knights of Ren? They’re just there to look cool. “But they kidnapped Chewie!” Yeah, what was the fucking point of them kidnapping Chewie apart from giving a reason for the Beautiful Friendship Gang to get on the Star Destroyer and give us fake suspense because we all know how it’s gonna end, just end my suffering already. Also, NO INTERRACTION WITH BEN? DID YA FORGET CHEWIE IS LIKE, HIS UNCLE? DID YALL FORGET BEN WAS PART OF YOUR FAMILY OR…

Seriously, that sequence on Pasaana where they’re just standing there on top of a fucking mountain? I called that part the Backdesert Boys. That tells ya how much I hated it.

Oh yeah, and they’re fighting fodder for Benny Boy in the end, because of course they were Palps’ lackeys all along, can’t think of anything else that’s more imaginative.

So what could they possibly add to Ben’s arc, that would explain so much, like how Ben finds Palpatine, or how he’s always one step ahead from the Beautiful Friendship Gang in their Wild Goose Chase no one fucking cares about?

This is where I got into speculation/conspiracy theory territory. Brace yourselves. 

*

So, the film has Lando reveal that he and Luke “knew” about Palps being around thanks to snooping around… except that makes no bloody sense. Lando was never involved in a Force plot of any kind, and he was never that close to Luke anyway. I mean, Lando’s a nice guy and all, but he’s not really besties with Luke – he’s Han’s friend.

So that research should have taken place either before Ben joined Luke at Jedi Camp, either after. Then again, before would make no sense, because why would Luke leave that critical of a search on the ice for 10 to 15 years? The only place where I can place it in time, where it would make logical sense… would be when Ben was around, and it’d make WAY more sense to have him be Luke’s sidekick in that search.

It would have totally explained why Luke freaked the fuck out reading Ben’s mind, because only Palpatine can give her that severe of a PTSD-like reaction. It would have totally explained why Ben would run to Snoke, grooming and desperation set aside, under the promise that they’d associate to defeat Palps, because if you ignore the plot hole extravaganza of TROS, you’d bet Snoke wouldn’t want Palps anywhere near his throne – mainly because Snoke is a wannabe Palpatine who targeted Ben to get his own Vader. It would have totally explained why Ben thought becoming Supreme Leader is a good idea – even if it’s morally wrong, it makes logical sense. It would have totally explained why Kylo was collecting Sith artefacts in the year gap while keeping in mind he made his distaste for the Sith clear in TLJ. It would have totally provided the audience (and Rey) a good reason to forgive Ben, because even if he had godawful methods, he wanted to do the right thing and save the galaxy from the person who came this close to destroying them, as well as his family. That would have provided for him the means to realize that he cannot defeat Palpatine using Palpatine’s means – as Rose said, he’ll win by saving what he loves, and not destroying what he hates. That would have made Rey the glitch in the matrix, who must join forces with Ben because without her, he would have been doomed despite his best efforts.

And before you tell me that would have been unnecessary… let me put it to you this way. Ben keeps saying it's too late, and if it was just that, it could be interpreted as him thinking he went too far to come back. But he also adds that he has "something to do", and I'm here waving my arms like "WHAT? WHY? FUCK, YOU DIDN'T EVEN KILL YOUR FELLOW STUDENTS!!! THEY'RE NOT EVEN BOTHERED TO SAY THAT IN THE ACTUAL FILM!!!"

Hence why my theory is the simplest way to just tie it all neatly together, without retconning anything. There.

IT WOULD HAVE BEEN SUPER SIMPLE TO DO. Except that, as I mentioned earlier, they mutilated Ben’s arc, and left him to play the part of Darth Exposition, until the very end, when they have Ben save what he loves… but even then, I can’t even appreciate that either, because it happens in a way that makes EVERYONE look horrible, while Ben is, from a storytelling perspective, a saint… a saint everyone ultimately forgot about.

[marinaaniseed]

Dark ‘n’ Stormy, Pt. 11

Summary: It’s the day after the stuffing chapter. New Asgard decides which system of government it wants. Not much smut, an awful lot of politics.

Length: 6.9k. A more sensible person than me might try to edit this down, but honestly, I feel like you’d all be horribly disappointed if I didn’t write all the words.

Warnings: Eh the usual. Kinky food stuff, smut, drinking, swearing, mental health wonkiness, Asgardian politics, body shaming, intrusive media, social media shittiness, uncomfortable family relationships, mentions of starting a family, mentions of dead characters, smutty pictures, some ridiculously long speeches that might give you feels. I think that’s it.

Notes: This chapter, quite literally, took months to write. Apologies, therefore, if it’s a bit disjointed or I contradict myself. This bad boy is now over 50k in total (!) It took a while, because I couldn’t quite decide how I wanted it to go. Also, writing a story a day for the entire year is quite time consuming and a really fucking terrible idea. Typos and errors are all my own but please alert me to anything spectacularly bad so I can fix. I’ve not given this any distance, so I am hella word-blind.

Also, one of you gets a mention :P

Need a reminder of what’s happened? Pt. 10 & the masterlist.

If you like what I do, please let me know.

It wasn’t the cockerels crowing that woke you, but the dogs excitedly greeting someone.

“Whuh time issit?” you mumbled into Thor’s hair, your hand resting on his still full tummy as you spooned the sleepy Thunder God.

“Too early.”

He wasn’t wrong. Groggily you pulled yourself away, rummaging around for something to throw on so you could investigate who your visitor was.

Opening the bedroom door, you spied the Valkyrie crouched down by the settee, rubbing Geri’s tummy.

“Why?” you asked, not really awake enough to form a proper question.

“Why what?” Valkyrie responded, continuing to fuss the dog at her feet.

“Why are you here? Now? At this godforsaken time?”

“Has Thor forsaken this time in particular?”

Your glare said it all.

“I jest, sorry. Have you been online? Checked your phone? Seen or heard the news?”

“For fuck’s sake, Brunnhilde,” you said, startling the dogs and finally rousing Thor, “I’ve literally just gotten up. Because of you. When would I have done any of that? And why does it matter?”

“I’ll make the coffee, you go get Thor.”

You’d barely turned and taken a step, when you collided with the solid mass that was your lover.

“What’s wrong? Why is the Valkyrie here?” he asked, holding you to his stomach.

“Not a fucking clue.”

You weren’t exactly a morning person. Even less so after a few cocktails, and when your awakening had been rude. Not the good kind of rude, either. Thor knew, from prior experience, that waking you unexpectedly was like deciding to disturb a wasp’s nest. Nothing good would come of it and it wasn’t something you’d likely repeat in a hurry. You were a surly, venomous grump, sure to sting whatever had disturbed you.

Either Brunnhilde was more foolhardy than he thought, or something was seriously wrong.

Brunnhilde returned to find you slouched on the settee, buried in Thor’s hoodie with the hood pulled up and over, almost to the point of covering your eyes, in a vain attempt at ignoring the world. The steaming mug of caffeine placed on the table next to you was met with a snort of derision, and it was with no small amount of trepidation that Thor sat next to you, before pulling you onto his lap. Maybe whatever had brought the Valkyrie would concern only him, and you could doze off against his chest.

“Did you enjoy your pizza last night?” Brunnhilde asked, breaking the frosty silence.

“Yes,” Thor smiled at the memory. “How did you know we had pizza?”

“That’s what brought me here. I’m sorry it’s so early.”

Why would pizza have brought her here, Thor wondered. Did she need a recipe? Did she have some left over? Was she planning to open a pizza place in New Asgard?

“Someone… someone, erm, they snapped some pictures of you. The two of you. In the restaurant. They must’ve recognised you.”

“So?” Thor queried softly, hoping that you had begun to return to sleep in his arms.

“Well, they sold them to some media people. You’re, erm, trending on Twitter. I wanted to tell you before you saw for yourselves, some of the reporting is… unflattering.”

Yeah. Thor could already picture it. Being fat and in the public eye was just a magnet for the worst kind of people.

“If they’ve worked out who Y/N is, it’s not been published yet, but it’s only a matter of time,” Brunnhilde continued.

“Ah, balls,” you said, finally joining the conversation.

“Indeed. A few months back, I asked some friends to do some digging on you. Don’t be alarmed, I just wanted to be prepared for the time when it eventually emerged that you and Thor were together. I didn’t find anything to be worried about in what they found on you, but I understand that there may be things that you’d prefer to stay private. The silence of those involved can be arranged, if you wish.”

There were certainly things in your past that you weren’t exactly proud of. You probably should’ve realised that you couldn’t stay under the radar forever.

“No, it’s ok. Don’t waste your resources, or those of your friends. I’ve been alive long enough to know that if the tabloid press thinks there’s a story, they’ll dig it up somehow. Or just make one up. I’ve done what I’ve done, and that’s the end of that. Anyone commenting on my life probably has stuff they’d rather keep secret,” you answered with a sigh.

“Very well. Do you want to read the dossier?”

“No, no. I’m sure it’s very thorough and accurate. Thor, do you want to read it?”

“Anything you wish to tell me about your past, you can tell me about yourself,” he answered, running his fingers through your hair. “Whatever you have done, it’s of no consequence. You’re here now, that’s all that matters. Some youthful follies could not reverse my love for you.”

You nuzzled your face into his chest hair to hide the tears you could feel beginning to sting your eyes.

“Is that all, Brunnhilde? May we return to bed?” Thor said.

“Yes, of course. Apologies once again for disturbing you. I just wanted you to hear it from a friend before you heard it elsewhere.”

You were fast asleep again by the time Thor gently laid you back on the bed. You must’ve been warm in his hoodie, the early rays of sunshine beginning to seep into the bedroom, but he didn’t want to disturb you. His mind was all over the place, so he decided to check the news on your tablet while you were tucked into his side.

Thor’s Hammered!

King of Ass-gard

Pizza Gut - Avenger destroys pizza buffet

Thor quickly put the tablet back down. It stung to read the words they wrote about him, but even worse was what they wrote about you. They didn’t know you, why did they get to judge you, speculate about who you were and why you were with him? You were just another name on the long list of loved ones he wasn’t able to protect.

Gingerly removing himself from your side, relieved when he didn’t wake you, Thor decided to sit back on the settee, letting Loki slither over him. The snake wasn’t as helpful as his brother, but he found it calming anyway.

15 minutes later, the sound of a message being received made him jump. Unlocking his old phone, he saw it was a message from Brunnhilde.

I know you said you didn’t want to know about Y/N’s past, but I think you might find this interesting…

There were several links at the bottom of the message. Thor didn’t want to pry, he really didn’t, but he couldn’t help but be curious as to what was that important that Brunnhilde had felt the need to send him a link.

Moving as quietly as he could, he returned to the bedroom to grab the tablet, before settling back down to see what had been sent.

Typing the address was a torturous process, his fingers weren’t quite dexterous enough to easily manipulate Midgardian devices, although he was becoming more careful with them. Still, he nearly dropped the tablet when he saw where the link took him to.

It was a gallery of pictures. Pictures of you, to be exact. You weren’t naked but it was obvious that these weren’t the kind of pictures you shared with friends or family. He’d heard about these kinds of sites, adult sites they were called. The model had a different name, but it was definitely you. No doubt about it.

Pictures of you in corsets that pushed up your breasts and cinched in your waist. Pictures of you with chokers around your throat. Some pictures where you wore clothing made of a strange material that seemed to fit you like a second skin. Some more where you wore beautiful lingerie in vibrant colours, brilliant blues and vivid violets.

The pictures on the next link were a little different. Leather gloves, ball gags, handcuffs. Fishnet stockings and knee-high leather boots. Why had he never seen any of these outfits? Carefully gripping the tablet with one hand, he moved the other inside the waistband of his pants, rubbing at the head of his excited cock.

For a split second, he considered what Brunnhilde had thought of these pictures. Had she shown them to Sif? What if they’d both enjoyed them?

His cock grew harder at the thought.

And he knew he should feel a little ashamed. You hadn’t mentioned these pictures, so it probably wasn’t something you were proud of, but he couldn’t help but look, hope that others had looked, and seen just how sexy you were.

He didn’t really understand the third link. That seemed to be a niche site. You were barely visible, clad in rain gear, and wrapped in heavy duty tape to secure you to a post.

But, Brunnhilde really had saved the best until last.

Bound, gagged, blindfolded. Eyes wide in another as you looked at the woman stroking your hair as you sat tied to the chair. If he had to be king, he’d insist on having a throne, just so he could recreate that image with you. Only, in his version, you’d be wearing a lot less clothes, his face between your thighs, eating you out until the only thing keeping you upright were the ropes that held you in your place.

It was funny. He’d not really enjoyed being in chains, in a cage, when he’d encountered Surtur. But the thought of you being bound, held captive while he pleasured you in all the different ways he knew how. Now, that was something he liked the idea of.

Freeing his cock, he began to stroke in earnest, the images he’d just seen and images of what he’d like to do to you fuelling his desire. The harder he thought of them, the harder he got, and the harder he pumped his fist.

His orgasm was explosive, and Loki hissed at him angrily. Geri and Freki perked up their ears to see what the fuss was about. He knew he should move and clean himself but he was comfy, he was relaxed, he could rest here for a moment or two.

***

Evidently it was more than a moment or two when he awoke to the sound of pans clanging around in the kitchen. There’s no way you couldn’t have seen him, and there’s no way he could pretend it was anything else. He’d fallen asleep with his cock out, the evidence crusted onto his tummy.

Tucking himself back into his pants, he approached the kitchen with caution.

“Good morning, my love,” he tried.

“Good afternoon,” you corrected. “Dare I ask?” you said, looking at his gut pointedly.

Nothing good would come of lying, so he tried his best to explain the truth.

“Ah, well, what happened was, you see, Brunnhilde sent me an electronic letter with some links on my phone. So I looked at them on the tablet,” he explained.

“Brunnhilde sent you porn?”

“Yes. I mean no. I mean maybe? The links were to pictures of you.”

“Ah,” you said, understanding. “Brunnhilde’s friends found those.”

“I suppose so, yes.”

“Well, I’m glad you enjoyed them. I enjoyed doing them.”

Thor doesn’t ask for an explanation, doesn’t press you, doesn’t tell you about his fantasies. You’ll tell him when you want to, if you want to. He’ll tell you when you’re not trying to cook avocado eggs Benedict.

“I’m going to take a shower,” he mumbles before walking off to the bathroom. He’s glad that you’re not angry or upset, but he’s still embarrassed that you caught him in that position.

The shower is cold, but not cold enough to cool him down from his thoughts. Thoughts of those photos, thoughts of last night, and thoughts of what he’d like to do with you in the future. He could probably roll around on Jötunheimr and still feel too hot.

He’s quiet during brunch, but you don’t press him. You just hold his hand, silently telling him that everything will be alright.

You’d briefly checked your phone before Thor had woken up. There were so many notifications, you were afraid it might crash, and you’d put it back down again. Today was an historic day for New Asgard, you didn’t want to overshadow it by worrying about what Twitter trolls had to say about you. It keeps buzzing on the table next to you, and you continue ignoring it.

“Are you going to check that?” Thor asked. “It might be something important.”

“I don’t really want to, I’m afraid of what I might see,” you said.

“I understand, but the longer you leave it, the worse it will be. Maybe just check if there is anything from your family. You don’t want it playing on your mind throughout the day.”

Thor’s right, and so with a resigned sigh, you picked up your phone and looked at your notifications, dismissing anything that wasn’t important.

A message from Sam on Skype that read I knew you had a thing for older men, didn’t realise you liked them THAT old ;-) now I know where you are, let me know when I can visit. Ignore the haters, they’re just jealous.

There was also an entire chain of emails from your mum, without a subject. She’d never quite gotten the hang of email.

Is this you/??>????? And then a link to a news website.

It is, isn’t it.

WHy didn’t you tell us. Where you were????

Your father is looking at flights.

He’s found some cheap ones with Ryanair, we’re coming over in a fortnight. Flying to Oslo. Charlie is coming too.

He can’t find anywhere to stay in New Asgard, are there no hotels????

Answer me.

“Ah, fuck,” you said, staring at down at your phone.

“What’s the matter?” Thor asked, worried that you’d seen something critical of you.

“My family knows where I am now, they’re coming to visit,” you mumbled. “In two weeks.”

“That’s wonderful news, I can’t wait to meet them,” Thor said, kissing your hand.

“Yeah,” you said doubtfully. You loved your family, but they could be tricky at times. They were hurt, of course, by your vagueness on the subject of your whereabouts. You already knew they were going to make some unintentionally hurtful comments, either about Thor, or about Alex, or both. They were also likely to do the same about you.

“Two weeks,” Thor mused, still enthusiastic about the prospect of meeting your family. “I think that gives me sufficient time to build a place for them to stay.”

It was lovely that he was excited by the prospect, but you groaned internally. Something told you that Thor was not going to have time for much if the vote went the way you thought it would.

“I’ll tell them we can accommodate them somewhere,” you said, firing off a quick email. “Now, let’s forget about this and focus on the task at hand. Brunnhilde wanted us there no later than two, that only gives us an hour.”

***

At 2:10 you arrived at the mead hall, Thor in his full regalia, you in the dress he’d gifted you for the May Day feast. Geri and Freki loping along behind you. You went to add the one remaining cake to the long table of food, while Brunnhilde intercepted Thor.

“Is everything alright, after this morning?” she asked him.

“Yes, I think so. Y/N is strong, although her family have elected to visit. That seems to have shaken her,” Thor sighed.

“It must be hard to face someone you thought was dead, even if you love them, once you’ve been through the grieving process,” Brunnhilde noted.

“It is.” Thor knows it’s hard, he went through it enough times with Loki, but he’d do anything to have his brother back. Or his mother, father.

There are flowers everywhere. Bouquets on tables, bunting hanging from the rafters, and people everywhere with flower crowns on their heads. Thor’s pleased with how well they’ve turned out. He makes a note to thank everyone involved, as well as to the plants for blooming so abundantly for him. There was something very satisfying about growing things and tending to them, becoming one with nature.

He’s not surprised when you return with a flower crown, plus one each around the dog’s necks. He doesn’t think they’ll last long, which is why he’d made sure to cultivate flowers that wouldn’t make the dogs sick when they inevitably tried to eat them. Thor particularly likes how you look with your flower crown. He’s seen you wear one before, of course, but they really do suit you. He hopes that if he has to be king, then perhaps one day you’ll wear a different kind of crown.

“Hello, Brunnhilde. Apologies for our lateness. I didn’t grab a crown for you but if Thor doesn’t want this one, I’m sure you can have it,” you offered, holding out the wreath.

“That’s quite alright, I’m not really one for crowns,” Valkyrie answered with a small shake of her head. “I’ll leave you two to mingle, just don’t be late for the vote announcement.”

“We won’t,” Thor assured her, knowing full well that they won’t start without him. “I fear this may not be the only crown I accept today,” he continues, taking the flowers from you and placing them on his head.

“I’m sorry,” you said, pressing a gentle kiss to his lips. “I’ll support you, no matter the outcome.”

Thor knows this, and he’s glad of it. He’s still not comfortable with being in charge, quite content with his life, building things, tending to the plants, and playing with his animals. But at least he doesn’t have to do it alone. After Loki died, he was so very alone. Korg and Miek were great, but there was something missing in his life, a much closer form of companionship that he’d finally found again.

“Let us mingle, I’m sure there are many children who will be glad to pet the dogs,” Thor said, looping his arm with yours at the elbow.

*** By the time it gets to the hour of the announcement, Geri and Freki have had their bellies rubbed by seemingly every child in New Asgard, much to their delight.

A little boy had brought you a small posy of flowers, and was extra pleased when Thor held him in his strong arms and let the child place the flowers in Thor’s beard. It’s very haphazard, and a little one-sided but Thor’s pleased with the end result, when you show him in your pocket mirror.

It makes him ache desperately to have a child - well, children - of his own. He thinks about what kind of uncle Loki would’ve been.

Hopefully he wouldn’t have stabbed them.

It’s too hot in the mead hall. Thor’s been trying to drink slowly, aware that he’s drinking out of nerves more than anything.

Dutch courage, you’d called it. Allegedly, Dutch soldiers had drunk jenever before going into battle. Thor considered that a little risky. Drinking was best done after battle, being clumsy while handling a weapon didn’t strike him as the best strategy. Then again, it seemed to work fine for Brunnhilde. It didn’t really happen to him, but supposed many people got nervous before a fight.

Thor knew you had a Dutch friend, a teacher. He wondered if they might bring jenever with them if they ever came to visit?

Bruce came over, crowds of Asgardians parting easily for his bulky frame.

“Hey buddy,” he said, hugging Thor. “Are you ready?”

“About as ready as I’ll ever be,” Thor answered. A few years ago, he’d thought he was ready. Had almost been crowned king.

He never thanked Loki for royally screwing that up. It was only now, with hindsight, that he could appreciate the favour his brother had inadvertently done him.

“It’s time,” Bruce told Thor, throwing an arm around his shoulders. Thor looks back at you, but you shake your head. This is an Asgardian matter. Your place is at the back with Geri and Freki, not onstage with Asgard’s elite.

“Do you know?” Thor asked Bruce, desperately.

“No Thor. Even if I did, I couldn’t tell you,” Bruce noted. “Whatever happens, you have people that care about you. It won’t be like it was before.”

Thor joins Valkyrie, Sif and several others onstage. Bruce waves his hands, dampening down the crowd that buzzes like a hornet’s nest. Despite all the assurances, this is still a volatile situation and Bruce says a silent prayer that everything works out for the best.

“Thank you all,” Bruce addressed the crowd. “Thank you for trusting in the process and for allowing us, as outside observers, to count all of your votes. No system will be perfect, but we hope that you will all respect the outcome, whatever it may be. It took three rounds of voting for an option to gain over 50% of the vote. I’ll now hand over to Captain America, who has the results.”

Bruce steps down, stands to the right hand side of the stage as Sam steps forward. Anticipation builds around the room, like static during a storm. Sif holds hands with both Thor and Valkyrie, holding in a breath as she waits to see which of the people she cares about most will draw the short straw of heading Asgard.

She fervently hopes that the people will have chosen another option, but she doubts it. Most Asgardians fell on one side of the divide or the other - traditionalists who wanted to continue the existing royal family, and those who felt that Brunnhilde was the best leader amongst those left.

“Thank you, Bruce,” Sam said, grateful that someone the Asgardians were familiar with had addressed them first. “The result is very close, but let me assure you, it is accurate. We counted every single ballot ten times, just to ensure there was no discrepancy. With 50.8% of the vote, the people of Asgard have chosen the option of an octarchy.”

The room erupted with people cheering, complaining, or otherwise chatting with people about what it all meant. Sam waited for the commotion to die down before continuing.”

“Furthermore, the proposed solution, as outlined within the election materials is that Thor, son of Odin.” Sam paused, Thor’s full title sounding odd coming out of his mouth, but that was what the piece of paper he was holding said. “Thor, son of Odin, shall rule as king, and head of state.”

Thor paled visibly and your heart went out to him, glad that Sif was holding his hand.

“Succession will be a matter of blood, as it has always been, unless Thor shall have no issue. In that event, the people of Asgard will once again convene to decide how they wish to be governed. Brunnhilde, of the Valkyrior, shall serve as his second in command. She will rule in his absence or if he is incapacitated, if Thor does not have an heir of legal age.”

Sam shook his head. He shouldn’t have let Bucky write the speech, he should’ve known his metal-armed partner would try to stitch him up with flowery Asgardian language. Out of the corner of his eye, he can see Bucky smirking, standing next to Bruce. Sam makes a mental note to put on his suit later, pick Bucky up, and drop him in the North Sea.

“The other six members of the council will be chosen as follows. Thor, son of Odin, and Brunnhilde, of the Valkyrior, shall each choose one. Two more shall be elected by the people of Asgard. The final two shall be selected at random in a lottery of all citizens who have come of age. These positions shall be reviewed every ten years, unless circumstances, or the will of the people dictate otherwise.”

The place descends into chaos, even the dogs start barking at all the noise, and it only stops when the valkyrie gets to the front of the stage and lets out an ear-piercing screech. Everyone stops what they’re doing and looks at her, wincing.

“Settle down everyone, settle down,” she shouted. “I respect this result, just as I said I would, and I pledge to serve both Asgard and its king to the best of my ability, as long as I am able to do so. I would like to thank you for your trust and patience during the time in which I served as Asgard’s caretaker. I know that not all of you were happy with the situation, but I hope I served you well. There is one among us, who I would like to nominate for inclusion on the council. However, I am aware that some of you may feel it is a conflict of interests. As many of you are aware, the Lady Sif and I are in love. She is my nomination if you will accept her.”

Raucous applause erupts. Sif is well liked, and most people are pleased to have her helping to steer Asgard’s course, even if she’s a little too eager to head into battle at times.

“Very well, I thank you all for your trust,” the valkyrie continued. “While I have the floor, there is one more thing I wish to do. I was going to do it later, but I think now is best, to declare my love in front of all those I serve.”

This time it’s Sif’s turn to go pale, as the Valkyrie sinks to her knees, turning back to Sif.

“Lady Sif,” Brunnhilde began. “I have lived long and travelled far, and there is no beauty that can compare to yours. Your love shines brighter than any star, and I am a better person for you sharing it with me. I have no title or riches to give you. This is but a small trinket, for I have already given you the greatest gift I have to give, which is my heart. I would be honoured if you would accept this ring as a token of my love, as is the custom on much of Midgard, and agree to be my wife.”

Sif is openly sobbing, and Thor’s not sure he’s ever seen her cry before. Scores more around the room wipe away tears as Sif slowly moves forward, allowing the Valkyrie to slip the ring onto her finger. Once it’s in place, Sif takes Brunnhilde’s hands and pulls her up, embracing her tightly and kissing her fiercely to a chorus of cheers.

It’s a wonderful sight, and you’re glad that there’s something for Asgard to celebrate, even if the vote didn’t go everyone’s way. Your throat goes dry as Thor nervously makes his way to the front of the stage to speak.

“Hello everyone. Apologies if I seem nervous, it has been many years since I last addressed so many,” he said, fiddling with the hem of his cloak. It’s far too hot to be wearing it, but he’d insisted that this was an important occasion and that he should dress accordingly.

“My congratulations to the Lady Sif and the Lady Brunnhilde. Theirs is an excellent union, and I wish them an eternity of happiness together.”

Thor waits until the cheering dies down before continuing.

“I, too, respect and honour the results of this vote. No man can outrun his destiny, and it seems mine will always be to rule Asgard as its king, even though I feel ill-equipped to do so. Fate apparently wills it so. I have not led Asgard well these last few years, and I apologise for that from the bottom of my heart. I have been remiss in my duties. I know that some of you do not trust that I have changed, but I give you my solemn word that I have. That I will act for the good of Asgard, and the other eight realms, as long as there is life in my breast.”

The entire room draws a collective gasp as Thor sinks to one knee. Panic sets in. This can’t be happening. Surely he’s not about to propose as well?

“I kneel before you, as your humble servant,” Thor continued, and you sighed in relief. “Too long, the people of Asgard have knelt before the throne. No more. I kneel before you all, and ask for your forgiveness. I am not the man I was, but I hope with time, that I will become someone better, someone worthy of the position that I find myself in.

“Asgard is not a place, it is a people. My father told me that, and I see now how true it is. I thank each and every one of you for trusting and believing in Asgard, in each other, when I did not trust or believe in myself. Together, you have created something strong and beautiful. I thank you for sharing it with me. You have rebuilt, you have shown incredible strength and fortitude.

“I am sorry for abandoning you. It is the most dishonourable and cowardly thing I have ever done. I asked the Valkyrie to rule in my stead, because I felt she was the best person for the job. I am truly sorry for abandoning Asgard in her hour of need. Thank you, all of you. Thank you for preserving our traditions and stories. Thank you for building a new home for us all. Thank you to everyone who has helped today. Baking delicacies, creating flower crowns, playing music. All that you do, on this day and every day, to ensure that we survive, that our culture survives, is appreciated by me.

“I hope to be able to thank you all individually, but please understand, it may take me some time. I kneel before you, as your king, humbled by the faith you still place in me. I shall work to rule as a king of the people, not above them. The throne should not be an untouchable pedestal on which I am put.

“Although I do not have a crown, I kneel before you, ready to serve Asgard, completely and unreservedly.”

“About your crown,” a voice called from the stunned crowd, as all eyes turned to look at Lorelei. She walked slowly through them, people parting for her, before she stopped in front of the stage, directly in front of Thor.

“When Hela attacked, many of us realised that Asgard was in peril. As we fled the city, some of us gathered up important artefacts. I apologise for keeping this from you, your majesty, but there never seemed to be an opportune moment…” she trailed off, reaching into a leather satchel, slung low against her hip.

Several people fainted, as with trembling hands, she pulled a crown from it.

“My-my father’s crown,” Thor mumbled, stunned.

“Yes, your majesty,” Lorelei explained. “I apologise again for keeping it secret, but you had already lost so much, I did not wish to remind you of your father. I have kept it safe, all these years. I believed that one day, you would be restored to the throne. I believed that day would be today.”

With trembling fingers, she reaches out the crown as Thor lowered his head. Tears were running down his face, into his beard, for everyone to see as he sat back up, slowly rising to his feet.

A collective sense of shock reverberated around the room, and you anxiously stroked your two dogs, who sat flanked you on either side.

“Thank you, good Lady Lorelei. This truly is an extraordinary gift. I thought I would never see this again, let alone wear it. I do wonder, now, what else was saved from Asgard, but that is a matter for another time,” Thor advised. “I have but one more matter to discuss, before it is time to feast. There is much to celebrate this day, and I hope it is one that will long be remembered.”

Thor paused, taking a moment to look around the hall. His friends, his people looking up at him. It filled him with a tiny spark of confidence that everything would work out fine this time, unlike when he had told Loki it would, all those years ago, after Asgard was destroyed.

“Like the Lady Brunnhilde, I too have someone I wish to nominate to the council. Like her, this person is one who is very dear to me,” he noted, looking across the heads of everyone to look you in the eye.

Thousands of heads turned to face you as you froze, wishing the ground would swallow you up.

“I wish to nominate the Lady Y/N. She has done so much for Asgard, though her time with us has been short so far,” Thor admitted. “As an outsider, I believe she has much knowledge and wisdom to offer us about Midgard, its people, and their customs. Her counsel is invaluable to me, and I would like to offer her a place at this table, if there are no objections.”

Deathly silence descends, everyone waiting for someone to say something.

“A wise appointment, your majesty,” Leifr spoke up, and a chorus of cheers echoed around the room.

“It is settled then,” Thor exclaimed happily. “The other four positions shall be determined in due time, but now I say it is time to eat, drink, and dance our fill. There is much to celebrate as we enter into a proud new chapter in Asgard’s history.”

Everything was a blur for several hours as you try to process exactly what’s happened. Thor being king again was something you expected, and he seems to be taking it well. His speech was genuinely moving and you could see many Asgardians visibly softening to him as he spoke.

But appointing you to be one of Asgard’s eight rulers?

No. No no no. This could not be happening. You didn’t belong here, didn’t want that kind of responsibility.

Judging by the way people keep congratulating you, it definitely is happening. You barely have an appetite, pushing your food around, eating small amounts whenever Thor prompts you to try this dish or that.

It had been a productive few hours for the other three newly instated rulers. Between them, they’d managed to hash out a plan for getting the other council members appointed. They’d even found time to draft a press release with Pepper, covering the events of the day. The world media would be taken aback. New Asgard had never released any information before. Along with the details of the election, Pepper had made sure to note that the new rulers would be willing to engage with journalists going forward to ensure transparency about what the kingdom was doing, but that they would not interact with any outlet that did not respect Asgardian privacy or engaged in hurtful gossip about them.

Apparently, the prince of another country, and his wife, had done something similar a few years prior.

You sit completely zoned out, a zombie. Utterly alone while surrounded by people. Geri and Freki lie protectively at your feet, aware that something is wrong.

Even Thor can sense that something is amiss. You’re paying no attention to him eating increasingly absurd portions. He even mentioned that he was getting full and you just nodded politely, a slightly vacant smile plastered to your face. You didn’t even try to touch his stomach, where it sat pressed up against the table.

Eventually, Sam manages to make his way over, whispering in Thor’s ear. You’re dimly aware that they’re talking about you, by the way Thor keeps glancing nervously in your direction.

“Let us go for a walk,” he said, standing up and tugging at your elbow. “Young Sam said that you look like you could do with some fresh air.”

Moving on autopilot you follow him, Geri and Freki loping along behind you. He leads you down to the beach, the sun setting in the distance as Thor gently maneuvers you into sitting down on a driftwood log.

“Are you quite alright?” Thor asked, running his fingers up your bare arms as he crouched awkwardly in front of you. “You seem distant, distracted.”

“This is all just very overwhelming,” you said, looking at your hands where they rested in your lap.

“I agree, much has happened today. We can return home, if you wish?”

“Why did you appoint me to the council?” you whispered, voice shaking. “I don’t know if I’ll still be here in ten years. What if we split up? I don’t belong here, I’m not Asgardian. I don’t want this responsibility, I’m not qualified, I don’t want to do this.”

Thor’s heart sank and he let out a sad sigh, finally sitting on the soft sand, his hefty stomach making it hard to keep his balance while he crouched. He’d done it again. He’d thought only of what he wanted and hadn’t consulted you. He’d upset you, ruining your evening.

“I’m so sorry,” he said, tipping your chin up to make you look at him. “That was thoughtless and selfish of me, I should have consulted you before announcing my plan. Today has been trying for you, and you were already anxious and upset. I’m truly sorry for burdening you further.”

“I know you didn’t mean to Thor, but I’m so scared and sad.”

“Oh my love, no. I really am such an oaf,” Thor said sadly, pulling you into the small amount of lap he had left. If he kept on like this, he was going to really struggle to hold you like this soon.

He wants to kiss your lips, to kiss away all the hurt and worry he sees in your eyes, to kiss it better like his mother used to kiss his and Loki's scrapes and grazes. But he lets you bury your face in his shoulder. All he can do is cuddle you while you cry, chest heaving against his, while he rubs little circles onto your back, mumbling apologies all the while.

“I’m so sorry. I never meant to upset you, to make you scared or anxious. I can see that I was mistaken, even though I only meant it as a good thing, as a compliment to your character and your intelligence. I truly know of no other in the whole of Asgard more capable than you, not even Brunnhilde,” Thor explained. “You are wise for one so young, and far more learned than any of us when it comes to this land we find ourselves in. Please, allow me to apologise unreservedly for the hurt I’ve caused. Allow me to make it right, allow me to pick another to serve in your place.”

You're so silent, shaking in his arms. It hurts Thor in a way he’s not felt since his father banished him. What if he's finally gone too far? What if this is the thing that pushes you away from him?

It scares him more than the thought of Thanos returning once more.

“A trial,” you said softly, as you raise your head.

“Pardon?” Thor asked.

“Until the end of the year, I will serve for a trial period. But if at the end of that time, I still don’t want to do it, then you must replace me, without any reservations.”

“Of course, of course. Are you absolutely sure?”

“No,” you admit. “But I am willing to try. I trust you. I trust you not to force me into anything I can’t handle. I’m humbled that you and your people have accepted me, and are prepared to give me this chance. I know it’s a great honour. So I will try to repay that trust that you have, I will try to serve Asgard, even if it doesn’t come easily to me.”

“No one who seeks power or has it come easily to them should ever be allowed to wield it,” Thor noted, rubbing his nose against yours. “Thank you, my love for agreeing to try this. I will honour your request should you change your mind at any point. I admit, I was scared that I had lost you, that my foolishness had driven you away.”

“You’ll have to do more than that to get rid of me,” you laughed wetly, wiping your face on the back of your hand.

“That’s good news, although I hope never to test that theory,” Thor told you, relieved. “Do you wish to return to the hall? I’m sure you could persuade me to have some more wine and sweet treats. As you can see, I am not quite at capacity,” Thor teased, moving your hands under his tunic to touch his taut tummy.

“I think I would like to head home. I’m emotionally exhausted and I just want to faceplant into your tummy and go to sleep.”

“Also an excellent plan,” Thor admitted, standing up with your still in his arms.

“I’m not too tired to walk,” you tried to insist, looking down at your bemused dogs as they trailed alongside the gentle giant carrying you.

“I know that, I just wanted to hold onto you some more.”

Thor’s going to be extra affectionate for the next little while, still reeling from the feeling of almost losing you. Now he finally has something to lose again, he’s resolutely determined not to let it happen.

@innerpaperexpertcloud @morganhoran1671

[punkscowardschampions]

Ronnie & Joe

Ronnie: [is gonna rock up late despite literally living with Charlie so enjoy the entrance everybody]

Joe: [when you weren’t invited but still gonna show up like you have somewhere better to be, love that for you, the effort we’ve not gone to because we live here so it’s kinda okay but not really Joseph, also I imagine kinda shook she ended up showing]

Ronnie: [likewise in the sense that she dresses the same everywhere she goes unless it’s a job interview or court appearance lol but we know she looks good if you’re Joseph and into it, I imagine her zoning in on Jamie immediately like who the fuck is this and then oh I’ve heard nothing about you kinda energy soz gal]

Joe: [rude but not untrue in this case, at least Charlie can make it seem like you’re joking and Joe can go get you a drink like soz this is all we have energy ‘cos in jokes]

Ronnie: [I highly doubt they have enough seats around that table so I also imagine her dragging up something to sit on like yeah I’m here to stay bitches and drinking Joe’s drink while he’s gone as a throwback to when she did when they met at that gig and cos we’re obvs claiming him LOL]

Joe: [we know the food is gonna be studenty anyway so having smaller portions won’t kill any of us lmao, just dying at how shocked Sophie is having to conceal she is, host on queen, boring boyfriend having no opinions of course]

Ronnie: [don’t worry gal depending how much of a jealous rage we get into we probably won’t be eating it so you’ll still have brownies left, her face would be iconic and I totally picture Marc on his phone the entire time because Paul used to do that when he was with Trace]

Joe: [giving nothing to this bizarre situation, too real, Charlie and Sophie holding this together, soz guys, Joe jus amused af, do we sit opposite or next to hmm]

Ronnie: [read that as soz gays, ILY mum & dad, I think he needs to sit opposite Jamie so that she can accuse them of eye fucking each other or whatever so probably next to]

Joe: [okay yes gather ‘round everyone]

Ronnie: she lives here

Joe: yeah I told you, Silent Bob’s gf

Ronnie: you said he had a bitch not shes been chained to the radiator since youse lot moved in

Joe: maybe that’s his secret

Ronnie: whens he letting you have your go

Joe: got my own radiator you can have a go on when this is over

Joe: not to brag or nothing

Ronnie: wont be over til the fat flatmate sings & the other one sucking you off while her & mariah duet and the boyfriend pretends he aint watching youse instead is fuck all to brag about

Joe: be lucky if it got close to that level of mildly interesting

Joe: where are you in all this then

Ronnie: under the sink looking for drain cleaner or whatever else i can drink

Joe: why do you get to have all the fun?

Ronnie: i dont waste my time asking bullshit questions

Joe: how are we gonna waste our time

Ronnie: im gonna kill your shared girlfriend & youre gonna cry about it

Joe: I don’t think I am

Joe: no amount of tragedy is gonna breakthrough the chemical fog

Ronnie: you would if you could

Joe: [🙄 at her]

Ronnie: [tips however much is left of her drink into his lap not at all accidentally but we know Charlie and Soph will pretend it was]

Joe: [whip them off to go get changed boy]

Ronnie: [when you wanna follow him but you just gotta glare instead]

Joe: [probably taking whatever we’ve got in to make this go easier, ‘scuse us, so much missing out]

Ronnie: [you know she turned up already on something so do what you gotta do Joseph]

Joe: [Jamie should be talking to you about uni things thus alienating everyone else a lil ‘cos that is a bit rude and will annoy you gal]

Ronnie: [fully just opening up a wound over here literally cos she was already jealous but did not realise they had this much shit in common or anything in common actually so we’re just livid and bleeding]

Joe: [Sophie just running with the kitchen roll like omg do we have bandages guys like oh babe you truly only mean well, Charlie just giving the can you not looks of it all, Joe just jealous because we’ve obviously got our long sleeves]

Ronnie: [a spoken out loud fuck you at everyone but mainly Joe as we go to the bathroom to not deal with this but instead evoke the energy of when Mae downed that mouthwash because she definitely would and also go through the cabinets for anything sharp obvs]

Joe: [at least you can go under the guise of checking on her but really you’re just seeing what she’s doing]

Ronnie: [1000% have not locked the door because we wanted him to follow us but that won’t stop her telling him to get out because walking contradiction forever]

Joe: [locks it behind him in response]

Ronnie: [the most intense glare in response because could not be more livid rn]

Joe: [grabbing wherever the wound is like we’re gonna kiss it better or something like Soph for a casual bit of blood drinking]

Ronnie: [obviously have to push him away really hard because we’re obviously really into it and excuse you boy we’re trying to be angry and hate you, soz to all the flatmates when you hear that crashing about]

Joe: [lmao this tiny bathroom getting destroyed, steady yourself and her despite that clearly not being what she wants right now, roll up a sleeve ‘you never did the X’]

Ronnie: [the glorious visual of trying to get past him to leave/push him away again at the same time in a small space so you just end up pressed up against each other and the door making eye contact and it’s hot af ‘you never took me anywhere’]

Joe: [‘so let me’ do you mean let’s get out of here or in a saucy way either or you skinny as hell girl so if you not really trying to leave it’s easy not to let you]

Ronnie: [‘she’ll let you’ because we’re not just dropping this even if we want to]

Joe: [‘who?’ like an oblivious boy ‘cos clearly not where our head is]

Ronnie: [a really vicious read of Jamie based on what we’re learned this evening that I’m not gonna do because I am not that mean but it’s obvious it’s her and not Sophie we’re talking about, hope you don’t hear us gal]

Joe: [‘I’m not interested’ in every sense right now ‘and you know that, stop pissing about’]

Ronnie: [‘wasn’t any other cunt round the table hanging on her every fucking word, I know that’ because that was blatant Jamie]

Joe: [‘I can’t help it that her fella’s an accountant’ what do you do Marc, do any of us know lol, shrugs ‘we go to the same school, that’s it’ and a look like whatever the fuck this is is clearly more]

Ronnie: [she would wanna lol but we can’t because still mad ‘that’s it?’ not actually a question though more like you better be telling the truth boy ‘why the fuck have you never told me about her then?’]

Joe: [‘I thought I had when I said he had a girlfriend’ not not a lie ‘none of them are what I want to talk about, that’s it’]

Ronnie: [‘you were thinking with this’ grabbing his dick when we say so ‘that’s it’ cos even if that was true Joseph we shade the rest of the flatmates often and you know damn well we love doing it]

Joe: [shakes head even though we are very clearly into that ‘she’s no Soph’ like it wouldn’t be as funny soz]

Ronnie: [‘is right’ like yeah I know you actually seriously wanna get with her, and moving away but not to leave but to pick back up whatever implement we were gonna hurt ourselves with before he came in but didn’t get chance to because we’re genuinely upset]

Joe: [literally putting ourselves in front of it like no ‘Ronnie’ like I don’t know how you’re going to even put it into words boy so it’s mainly a !!! look]

Ronnie: [a look that starts out like don’t try and stop me/fuck you but turns into !! when his does like say something/do something if you mean it]

Joe: [got to go in and kiss you whilst making her push whatever she was gonna use on herself into him, now or never, enjoy the tension finally getting released]

Ronnie: [obviously we’re kissing you back so we all know what’s gonna happen next lol, soz flatmates I really hope you can’t hear anything, especially Charlie cos you actually know they’re related]

Joe: [it is not a big flat so keep quiet, just think he’s comforting her for all this time or what, god bless]

Ronnie: [she would be trying to keep quiet but not for y’all more so he thinks she’s unimpressed/not that into it but that would literally last all of a second because she’s obviously very into it]

Joe: [the levels you aren’t gonna wanna go back in but can’t be seen as being romantic lads]

Ronnie: [I could easily have her leave if we want though because it’s a fact that she doesn’t wanna be here and everyone would be relieved except Joseph]

Joe: [that probably makes sense, honestly, and you’ve freaked them all out, as was the point]

Ronnie: [and lbr you’ve freaked yourselves out with how good that hook up was too so]

Joe: [just go hide in your room like you’re very taxed by that in an acceptable way boy]

Ronnie: [god knows where you’re gonna go gal but please don’t OD again like you literally did in Margate no time ago]

Joe: [the headfuckery]

Ronnie: [poor Charlie just like UMMM WTF cos she must look bad even for her rn and we’ve behaved terribly and then literally legged it so]

Joe: [thank god you’re such a natural party go-er so you can make up some excuse to put them all at relative ease but yeah, for sure like excuse me]

Ronnie: [might be fun to do a convo between them when we’re done with this one]

Joe: [I’m down even though I really haven’t used him yet, I’ll give it a go]

Ronnie: [yeah it’s been forever since we did the group chats with them and Bronson and Bea it feels like another life, I can send you the convo we did where she told him she met Joe if you like cos I re-read that the other day and it was pretty good]

Ronnie: [but the real question is who’s gonna break first and start a convo and how long are we leaving it?]

Joe: [please do ‘cos did not realize we’d done that tbh]

Joe: [I could make a case for either of them, him to prove he meant it as he left it last time but her so she can’t automatically be on the ‘it meant nothing’ total defensive hmm]

Joe: [some hours later when the party is over, or could be]

Joe: Charlie was going pub, he’s left here though

Ronnie: [even later because whatever she’s doing she’s messy and can’t reply to the extent that she doesn’t need to because he won’t be expecting her to and yet here we are]

Ronnie: did whitney ask you to pass it on to us cos hes still disappointed like

Joe: couldn’t say

Joe: just letting you know that you’ll have a free gaff for a while longer

Ronnie: where have i chucked the other one for the sake of this free gaff in your mind mckenna

Joe: alright, free rooms better than fuck all

Ronnie: its his emmy oggie i aint there either

Joe: anywhere good?

Ronnie: compared to what

Joe: established it’s no brag compared to tonight

Ronnie: not gonna stop you comparing me & her

Joe: compare to what?

Joe: pleasantries over cocopops

Ronnie: youll be interested in eating her out now youve got what you wanted off me

Ronnie: 9 is easier to carve than an 8 and you wont look like youre trying to copy the infinity sign one of your other exes wouldve got inked on her

Joe: it’s not remotely the fucking same

Joe: if I was arsed about getting my numbers up there’s millions of girls in this city I could hit up before you

Ronnie: yeah youre not related to any of em and theyd have less clue how to shoot up than you do

Joe: even if the related bit was ringing 100% true, you’re the only user in town now?

Joe: you don’t have to pervert it when it already was

Ronnie: youre already romanticising it like a fucking 13 year old so yeah i do cause one of us has to get real

Joe: you reckon I’m so okay with it just because I can admit I wanted it

Joe: who do you reckon you’re lying to like I weren’t there

Ronnie: who do you reckon youre talking to like i didnt fucking leave you there for a reason

Joe: Fuck off

Ronnie: i did

Joe: for someone who reckons they’re so open, you chat so much shit

Ronnie: open to what soft lad infection

Joe: scars and trackmarks on your sleeve

Ronnie: yeah

Joe: you didn’t miss much

Ronnie: no shit you didnt just invite me cause you wanted to fuck me

Ronnie: can do that anywhere

Joe: yeah and you didn’t just wanna come to make Soph cry, like

Ronnie: i owed you

Joe: get it off your to-do list then

Joe: well done

Ronnie: stop crying youll never look as ugly as horse girl doing it or go for as long as her

Joe: you love her, we all 👀

Ronnie: i said shut up

Joe: no, you say something that’s not stupid

Ronnie: what for fucks sake

Ronnie: what did you reckon id say when you started chatting shit like nothing happened

Joe: alright, I don’t know

Joe: it happened, right

Ronnie: you werent hallucinating

Joe: nothing that makes that happen in the bathroom cupboard

Joe: I don’t regret it, I know that

Ronnie: meant to be made up to hear it am i

Joe: nah, probably not

Joe: but you wanted me to talk about it so I am

Ronnie: i wanted you to take the fucking hint when i legged it as soon as

Joe: you could’ve blocked me, so

Joe: pardon me for not taking it that seriously

Ronnie: not your crazy ex & i couldnt deny you your bullshit heroics

Ronnie: mary aint carrying me anywhere and i know how bad you wanna see me turn blue

Joe: you like having a stalker, is what you mean

Ronnie: block me and get your whore flatmate to tell you what she likes about you

Ronnie: weve established i aint got the talent to sing no cunts praises

Joe: we’ve established I’m not interested in that

Ronnie: cause you want me to tell you how smart you are at fucking me instead of beat the shit out of you

Ronnie: it wont last

Joe: familys forever, sis

Ronnie: not to your ma baby

Ronnie: did i look enough like her for you

Joe: what do you reckon

Joe: your theory, not mine

Ronnie: mustve youve still not fucked off

Joe: you’ve got room for another face tat or two

Ronnie: go do that then

Joe: you can leave out the yes sir

Joe: not my fantasy

Ronnie: no shit like youve been my bitch since you hit send on facebook

Joe: 😂

Joe: I’ve been worse

Ronnie: you trying to turn me on or what its a bit late for it

Joe: just the once, alright

Joe: bit cliche but probably for the best considering

Joe: very sensible of you

Ronnie: cliche that my da didnt stick around long enough for his side of the family to properly cut or sew me up so ive gotta regret not getting chance to put a razor blade inside me before you 💔

Ronnie: now youre gonna reckon i care youve said the once ll do when i just hate you & hate how you fuck even more

Joe: Could’ve said it was about as much fun as

Joe: it’s alright

Joe: both confused, clearly

Ronnie: youre not confused youre fucking smug

Joe: hardly another achievement for the fridge door

Joe: what’s to be smug about

Ronnie: probably for the best i dont answer that if thats how you feel

Joe: come on

Joe: aside from proving you were full of shit about not wanting to as well

Ronnie: fuck you

Joe: you don’t want me to say how I really feel

Ronnie: making me cum earlier dont mean you know what i want now

Joe: right, you want me to declare my love so you get more out of telling me to fuck off, that’s more like it

Ronnie: do i fuck

Joe: then what do you want

Ronnie: like you give the slightest shit

Joe: I do too

Ronnie: no you dont

Joe: I fucking do

Joe: [prove it in a way only y’all would, carve her name or something]

Ronnie: [send him your own pics of the bite marks you’re covered in which is a self harming thing you’ve not done since you were a kid because it’s been a headfuck every second since you two met and we’re not coping honey]

Joe: you hungry?

Joe: you didn’t eat fuck all, I mean

Joe: could get something not dubiously prepared by Soph

Ronnie: hungry as you are funny

Joe: I weren’t trying to be

Joe: on the spectrum, or whatever you said

Ronnie: you wish you had the excuse or the musical prodigy status

Joe: 💔 about that genuinely

Joe: just a dickhead

Ronnie: yeah

Joe: I don’t know what to say

Joe: there’s no point saying I’m sorry

Ronnie: no point is right youre not sorry

Joe: nah

Joe: it’d be lovely for you if I’d found you and you were fine

Joe: but like you said, it ain’t about me or her, it’s about loads of shit and you clearly weren’t so

Joe: just seems pointless

Ronnie: im made up you finally got your head round it

Joe: Yeah well, I didn’t tell you I was a good person

Joe: don’t mean I don’t give no fucks, just ‘cos I ain’t trying to save you

Ronnie: you keep telling me you aint like it matters to me who you are

Joe: yeah, it doesn’t in why you’re fucked

Joe: but what do you want from me

Ronnie: its your fucking fault im like this climbing the walls same as when i was a kid

Joe: yeah ‘cos you were doing really great before weren’t ya

Ronnie: all you give a fuck about is letting yourself off the fucking hook

Joe: Blame me then what does it change

Joe: do something about it other than fucking yourself up, I don’t care

Ronnie: stop lying that youre bothered if your only answer to me losing my mind is that i was before

Joe: I can’t help you

Joe: If you thought I could, though why the fuck you would

Joe: then I am sorry

Ronnie: 💔🖕

Joe: I’ve got my own problems

Joe: if I had any solutions, I’d light ‘em up and shoot them into myself first, naturally

Ronnie: youve got a solution i gave it to you

Ronnie: why the fuck would you make me feel something

Joe: Selfishness

Joe: pure and simple

Ronnie: on your way to a grown up habit im dead proud

Joe: what more could I want

Ronnie: that to scab over seeing as youve finally admitted its bullshit

Joe: I still think about you constantly

Joe: I still want to know everything about you

Joe: I’d rot with you

Ronnie: youve got your own problems to think about

Joe: yeah, and that’s hell

Joe: I’ve done plenty of that

Ronnie: yeah and youve got your escape

Joe: take yours

Joe: can have plan bs and cs even if a is the best

Ronnie: youre the kid who tells the rest to jump off a bridge

Ronnie: cute

Joe: you’re implying I wouldn’t and all

Ronnie: i dont give a shit what you do but i aint giving you the satisfaction of being the last fuck i ever had

Ronnie: youd cling to life long enough to write a pathetic song about it

Joe: that’s the nicest thing you’ve said

Joe: which is saying something ‘cos you’re so sweet, like

Ronnie: youre welcome

Joe: I’ll do a Dylan style ballad about all your 👼🏼 deeds

Ronnie: thats the biggest turn off out of everything youve ever said or done

Joe: thank god, you’re insatiable 😏

Ronnie: once you said

Joe: not for my benefit

Ronnie: its all only for your benefit remember

Joe: if that were true you’d still be here

Ronnie: if it was true i could be

Joe: come back

Ronnie: cant ive got a face tat to get done

Joe: I understand

Joe: my art isn’t there yet

Joe: won’t ruin your beauty

Ronnie: go ed and chuck yourself off a bridge you dont have to wait for me to boot your door in & do you in for chatting shit

Joe: well I am already devvo I’m not a prodigy so yeah, add lack of a steady hand to the list of failures

Joe: probably the meds

Joe: you know being poetic is all I do, why have we downgraded it to chatting shit 💔

Ronnie: why are you calling me beautiful when you could write it in your suicide note for your ma theres your downgrade

Joe: you’re too romantic for your own good

Joe: I wouldn’t be writing a note, sorry to dash your illusions

Ronnie: not me saying i get you mckenna thats your delusion

Ronnie: what are you gonna draw on me then

Joe: you do but it’s more fun to take the piss and pretend you don’t so

Joe: That is the question

Joe: won’t brand you, don’t worry

Ronnie: if i dont want it ill cut it out no pressure

Joe: it’s just skin right

Ronnie: yeah

Joe: how olds your oldest scar

Ronnie: older than you

Joe: what did you do

Ronnie: i used to take headbanging literally

Joe: ah, the floor never saw you coming, yeah

Joe: I have a head scar too [cos he either does or did on the stalker show idk but there we go with a photo like she probably knows hun]

Ronnie: [I just imagine her smiling to herself like yeah I know nerd]

Ronnie: cant both be poets had to express myself somehow before i pushed a safety pin through my cheek

Joe: that explains the permanent 😾

Joe: fucked the muscles, like

Ronnie: your shit jokes do

Joe: it was always easier to just start fights to get hurt

Joe: when I was a kid

Joe: though you work out ways to be sneaky fast, if you have to

Ronnie: they didnt wanna fight me

Joe: everyday sexism strikes again

Ronnie: fuck off not cos im a girl

Joe: why then

Ronnie: wouldnt be me getting hurt and if i was i didnt care

Ronnie: all those mental problems you told that call centre cunt about like

Joe: ‘course you were too proud to make it count

Joe: have to let them get some punches in or there was no point, yeah

Ronnie: no point in fitz flouncing in either fun though

Joe: true

Joe: I’ve got a brother and all, I remember what it’s like

Ronnie: scraps never went far enough

Joe: yeah

Joe: most kids aren’t that psycho

Ronnie: 💔

Joe: being misunderstood served me so well for the whole musician thing so whatever, I guess

Ronnie: i mightve bothered keeping some of my bastards about if they were guaranteed nutters thatd serve you well

Joe: you’d get your own room then, like

Joe: even if you had to pack them to the rafters

Ronnie: for a stalker youre dead concerned about my privacy

Joe: nah, ‘course not

Joe: I’d rather have a place to do the gear without the possibility of Soph or Charlie 🥺ing at us obvs, nothing but selfishness

Ronnie: theres loads of places

Joe: you can show me

Ronnie: is she there now she can let me in

Joe: no idea

Joe: their room is near the door, makes sense they’d be your first victims

Ronnie: youre too selfish to get off your arse and do it

Joe: if you’re coming I’ll carry you in myself, you know that

Ronnie: ill be there and youll still be going on about what youre gonna do

Ronnie: no wonder the other kids kept smacking you

Joe: yeah, all mouth me, deffo what I was known for

Joe: not a euphemism and I don’t think they were wishing it was but who knows

Ronnie: you sure you dont want charlie giving you the eye

Ronnie: how it sounds

Joe: I’m alright, tah

Joe: pretty sure he’s over it now I’m enabling you

Ronnie: hes over everything thats not horse girls from kent but reckons the fucking lost causes are us

Joe: He clearly just gives a shit about appearances

Joe: looking nice, polite

Joe: they’ll never speak again, like

Ronnie: forget him

Ronnie: open the door

Joe: [do that boy]

Ronnie: [boop his little head scar as you come in like oh there it is]

Joe: [‘s’not even a good story’ and producing some takeaway moment from the kitchen as you go through ‘cos the dinner party was not heavy on the dinner bit]

Ronnie: [a look like ffs because people caring in any way ew no but we are gonna eat it because probably haven't since that Margate moment]

Joe: [shrugging like bitch I’m hungry as we tuck in, obviously]

Ronnie: [kick him while you've still got your big boots on but playfully not aggressively]

Joe: [😏 but in a more genuine way than that cocky face looks, I am vibing Chinese not that that matters but there we go]

Ronnie: [weirdly I also thought that maybe because it's one of the grossest haha but yeah eat your food lads]

Joe: [greasy greasy goodness, love the subtle shade if any of them come out for a cuppa or whatever like oh hello again lol]

Ronnie: [I hope it's oblivious Marc just living his life]

Joe: [that’d be most amusing, unbothered, casually]

Ronnie: [I just imagine them doing stuff to try and make him notice like when people stack stuff on a sleeping person but idk what you could do in that little kitchen]

Joe: [for sure, just being subtly annoying/weird and he is just like does not compute ‘cos we mind our own business, so childish]

Ronnie: [love that for you two]

Joe: [we stan the regression for you]

[themusicplayedherlife]

Unrequited (Part 4)

pairing: eventual!bucky barnes x reader; one-sided!bucky barnes x natasha romanoff; one-sided!reader x steve rogers

word count: 3.6k +

warning: just a flirty tony; an annoyed bucky; and some cute moments

a/n: a new challenger appears! and you spend more time with bucky than you have in the past years

prev || all || next

“Do you really have to come with me?” You murmur, keeping your distance from Bucky.

He tries to close the distance between the two of you with long, quick strides, but you only keep widening the gap. “Will you stop?”

You breathe out through your nose harshly. “Not until you tell me why you need to come with me!”

With a hand on your forearm, he manages to gently tug you and turn you in place. “If you’d just—there.” You shake your arm free from him and he takes a deep breath, but he relaxes when you don’t make to move away from him. “Thank you,” he says exasperated as you cross your arms. “I need to see what your T.A is teaching you so I can help you better. Besides, Natasha is going to be there, too, right? And you two usually go out for lunch after this, right?” Your eyebrow quirks. How did he know that? Natasha maybe? “Listen, I get to help you and I get to spend time with Natasha. Two birds with one stone.”

You drop your arms, reluctantly relenting. “Yeah, okay, but what if my T.A doesn’t let you stay?”

“Come on, who wouldn’t give in to this face?” he says, motioning to his smolder that quite frankly makes you want to shiver.

“My T.A,” you deadpan. Janet can be laidback most of the time, but she’s also very strict when she needs to be.

He stuffs his hands into his pockets and grins. “You want to bet?”

“If I get in trouble—“

He rolls his eyes. “Just trust me, will you? Now come on, before we’re late.”

The rest of the walk to your class is relatively quiet. You still try to keep your distance from Bucky as you walk, but you’re no longer running away, at least. He doesn’t say much, he mostly stays glued to his phone and occasionally says things like: “did you know that Steve is lactose intolerant? Loves ice cream to death, but makes him sick,” and “once when we were seven, Steve tripped on air and fell into a puddle in front of his crush.” It’s out of the blue, but it fills the silence and makes it less uncomfortable. Doesn’t make you want to blurt out things you’ll regret. 

Your classroom is on the first floor of the Science building (also known as Stark Hall), and it’s still somewhat empty by the time you arrive. A few students are already sitting, and they greet you with smiles, but eye the man behind you with curiosity. 

Your T.A still hasn’t arrived nor has Natasha. Bucky settles in next to you in the middle row, taking off his backpack and placing it on the table to take out a notebook and pencil.

“What are you doing,” you ask curiously.

“I’m going to help you,” he says as if it were the most obvious thing.

You’re not sure whether to glare at him or just ignore him. “By taking notes?”

“Yes.”

“But I’m taking notes?”

He flashes you a glare. “Just relax and trust me, will you?”

You purse your lips. “Fine,” you grumble, taking out your own notebook and pencil.

The clock ticks with the seconds; a couple of your classmates are talking about a frat party they had been invited to and a few others are actually talking about their homework.

Bucky is doodling in the margins of his notebook—Stars, the moon, and just random things. Your eyebrows furrow as he adds detail to the moon, making sure to shade in the craters. Now that you think about it… didn’t Natasha mention a long time ago that he was majoring in Astrophysics? 

The door creaks open and your best friend walks in. You elbow Bucky, ignoring his quiet protests to greet your friend, but the way she’s frowning and typing away furiously on her phone tells you that maybe it’s best to not interrupt her until she notices you.

She lets out a sigh and puts her phone away, and her green eyes lift to meet yours. She smiles weakly and sits down next to you. “Hey.”

“Hey, you okay?”

“I’ll tell you about it later,” she says and you nod, but your worry doesn’t melt. 

Did something happen in her History lecture? Or maybe with her dad? No, he doesn’t like texting. He prefers to call. Her mom on the other hand...

“Nat,” Bucky greets her, breaking your train of thought. Bucky, shit, that’s right. You had momentarily forgotten about him.

Surprise colors her face, meeting his eyes then yours—you shrug—and then his again. “Bucky, what are you—“

“Good afternoon, class,” an unfamiliar voice drawls as the door opens. Your classmates all share a look of bewilderment while Bucky lets out an exasperated groan. “Let’s get this discussion started, yes? I’m recovering from a raging hangover and I really want to get the hell out of here to get some good ol’ junk food.” The unfamiliar man removes his glasses and your classmates begin to whisper excitedly.

“Why didn’t you tell me Tony Stark was your T.A?” Bucky hisses lowly just for you to hear.

“Because he’s not!” You whisper back, your eyes never leaving the front.

You’ve only ever seen Tony Stark from afar, never having a chance to talk to him, not that you wanted one. He’s intimidating, too charming and friendly; a little too eccentric with a passion for sarcasm, and the rumors surrounding him? Yikes. But that doesn’t mean you don’t admire him. I mean… how could you not? He’s only a year older than you and is already working on his Masters (or was it his PhD?)! And yet, here you are, barely getting through your third year of college.

Tony’s eyes roam the classroom as he hangs his sunglasses from the front of his black t-shirt. His eyes are droopy—tired, but the bright mischievous glow in them and the smirk on his face contradicts the tired shape of his eyes. “Janet is out sick for today, but she’ll be back to teach you younglings next week.” He hops onto the simple desk in front of the class. “For now, you’re stuck with me.”

“Great,” Bucky murmurs.

You raise a brow. “Do you know him?”

He leans closer to you to answer your hushed question. “Who doesn’t?” 

“I meant personally.”

Bucky tilts his head, scowling. “Unfortunately.”

Discussion is uneventful, to Bucky’s apparent surprise; Tony goes over the differences between Ionic and Covalent bonds, explaining them a lot better than Pym did, and then hands out a sheet that, “Janet wants you to turn in next week. Said it counts as attendance or something.”

“What exactly were you expecting?” You ask him as you pack up your things.

He shrugs. “I don’t know. Stark can be a wild card.”

“Now that’s a compliment for the ages.” Tony stands in front of the desk Bucky had been sitting at with an amused smirk on his face. 

You’re pretty sure Bucky didn’t mean it is a compliment, but Tony sure as hell doesn’t seem to care.

“Stark,” Bucky greets him dryly.

“Barnes.” Tony’s eyes drift to you and Natasha and the glint in his eyes brightens. “You never told me you had such good looking friends. Anthony Stark, but you’re welcome to call me Tony. Everyone does.”

Before you or Natasha can introduce yourselves, Bucky cuts in. “Will you quit it?” Bucky nags. “Won’t Pepper be mad when she finds out you’re flirting like a dog again?”

The glint in his eyes dulls and you swear you see his jaw clench, but it’s gone as soon as you blink. “I’m proud to announce I’m a single man, Barnes.” His eyes leave Bucky and stop on you, his earlier charming smile growing wider and brighter. “You are?”

You introduce yourself, a little starstruck and a little wary.

His hand reaches for yours and you’re thrown off by the fact that he doesn’t shake your hand, he kisses it instead. “Charmed.” He slowly releases your hand and you don’t know whether to giggle like a schoolgirl or retract your hand and burn it. “And you are?”

“Natasha Romanoff,” she says, offering her hand. “If you kiss my hand, I swear to god I will end you.”

Tony laughs, it’s deep and charming, and really, really beautiful. “It’s a pleasure to meet you both.” He shakes her hand before his eyes find you again, and you almost flinch back, completely unprepared for his gaze. “Now that I know Janet has such good looking students, I think I’ll be sitting in on her discussions more often.” His smirk is lopsided and teasing, nothing like Steve’s, but it definitely has its charm. “Actually. I have a party at my place this upcoming weekend.”

“When don’t you?” Bucky mumbles, but it goes ignored by Tony.

“Why don’t you guys come along? Bring a couple of friends?”

Your eyes shift from Bucky to Natasha and to Tony again. “I—uh…I don’t know…”

Natasha shrugs, wrapping her arm around your shoulder. “Why not? Destressing before finals might be what we need.” Finals isn’t for another couple of weeks, though?

“She gets it.” He grabs one of the leftover sheets Janet had given him for today’s class and plucks a pen out from his bag to write down his phone number and address. He hands it to you, but it’s Bucky who takes it, plucking it from out of his fingers. “I’ll see you Saturday. Ladies,” he addresses you and Natasha with another charming smile before his lips straighten as he looks at Bucky, “Barnes.”

You watch as Tony saunters out of class, head held high and glasses once more covering his face.

Bucky sighs. “He’s too much.”

You couldn’t agree more.

“Eccentric, maybe, but I think he’s all right,” Natasha says, taking the sheet from Bucky. “I’ll keep this.” She flings her bag over shoulder, ignoring the protests he murmurs. “I have to get going. I’ll see you back at the apartment.”

“We’re not going out for lunch?” you ask her, trailing after her dumbfounded.

She offers you a small smile. “I’m not really feeling up to it today.”

Just like she won’t force you to divulge information, you won’t either. “We will talk later though, right?”

“Yes, I promise,” she says her smile growing a little brighter. Her eyes drift behind you. “Bye, Bucky.”

“Bye, Nat.” Why does he sound like someone shot him in the chest?

“Well,” you start when she’s out of ear shot, “there goes your plan.”

“Yep,” he says after a long sigh.

“What now?”

He mulls it over. “I guess now we get lunch.” 

That’s not what you meant, but lunch does sound good.

You just didn’t think it’d be together.

Bucky takes you to a small diner called Stan’s just a couple of blocks away from campus. There’s a lot of cheesy memorabilia in the diner; paintings of vintage muscle cars and a weird painting of the last supper with dogs hanging on the wall; and a jukebox in the corner, a little worse for wear, but still playing some tunes. It’s noisy, but not too noisy to the point you could get irritated. The waitresses are sweet and nice, smiling in the direction of the door and welcoming the customers when the jingle announces an arrival, but they seemed to have been especially sweeter to Bucky. He must be a regular.

You find yourself sitting across from him, watching him order for the two of you. He knew this place better than you anyway, and at this point? You’d eat anything if it meant spending less time with him.

His gaze moves from the retreating waitress to you and you quickly avert your eyes to stare out the window, but it’s too late. He caught you already. 

“What?”

You reluctantly look at him and whisper. “Nothing.”

“Clearly not nothing if you’re staring at me that intensely.”

Were you? You flush. “Sorry.”

He sighs. “Why are you always so nervous around me? I thought we were making progress. You were talking back this morning.”

“It’s not just you, Bucky.” You frown, trying to find the right words. “I’m… I’m like this with everyone who aren’t my friends.”

“And Steve,” he adds for your just as the waitress brings you your drinks and straws. He thanks her with a smile and you do the same after sending him a quick glare. “What about him do you like, anyway? I mean I know he’s a great guy and all, he’s my bestfriend, but…”

“Does it matter?” you ask him, a little wary as he opens his paper straw with a push on the table.

“Well no,” he says, adding a lazy drawl to his vowels. “I’m just curious.”

“Why do you like Natasha?”

“What isn’t there to like? She’s hot, funny, and smart.”

You scoff as he takes a sip of his coke, mimicking his earlier actions to get your straw out of its pocket. “That’s it?” That's all he can say about Natasha? A person he claims to like?

His eyebrow quirks. “Yes?”

Wow. You feel offended for her! “That’s literally three general things that anyone could say about her! About anyone!”

“All right,” he says with a roll of his eyes. “Then what would you say about Steve?”

You smash the paper encasing the straw between your fingers, rolling it into a ball. “I like… I like that he’s sweet. He cares a lot about the people around him, and even strangers.” A smile blooms on your face, remembering how you once caught him helping an elderly woman walk to the bus stop by campus. “His jokes are a little outdated, but they make me laugh.” You lean against your elbow as it cradles your cheek. “And when he smiles? It’s always a little crooked, like a mischievous kid trying to get away with something. And his laugh? It’s so loud and genuine and just so sweet—“

“Okay!” Bucky interrupts, a little disturbed and perturbed. “Okay, I get it! You really like Steve.”

Oh, shit! You drop your hand onto the table and straighten. This is so embarrassing! You really fucking need a filter! Heat crawls up your neck when you meet Bucky’s gaze, cloudy blue eyes narrowed on you, and you quickly look away. “Right. Sorry.”

“How do you know all that about Steve, anyway? You two barely hang out.”

You frown, mouth latching onto your paper straw and trying to ignore the itch behind your ear. “And you've hung out with Natasha more and you only had generic things to say about her!”

“That’s because I don’t know what I like about her,” he admits, voice a little strained. “I just do. And sometimes people don’t need a reason to like someone, okay? They. Just. Do,” he emphasizes his last three words.

You’re not sure if he’s trying to convince himself or you. “I guess…”

A plate of burger and fries is placed in front of you and you look up to thank the waitress only to take a double take. She’s not the same one as the one that took your order, she was blond, this lady is a brunette. 

She smiles at you kindly, but something about it is almost gleeful. 

Why does she seem so familiar?

She places the other plate in front of Bucky as she says, “Here you are, hon.”

Bucky’s eyes skirt from you to her, and then his face breaks out into a warm smile. “Thanks.”

“You know,” she says, blue eyes returning to you, and this time they’re much more than gleeful, they’re wicked, “this is the first time James has brought a date to the diner.”

“Date?” you sputter, feeling the familiar heat crawling back up your neck. “James?”

“Mom!” he practically whines.

“Mom?” you repeat, wide eyes shifting between the two. Is that why she looked familiar? Well, now that you’re getting a closer look, she does look a little bit like Bucky. Those blue eyes are almost exactly the same, the only difference is that hers are a little brighter in color, leaning away from grey, but the shape is the same. Their eyes a little hooded and a bit intense. Hair, the same dark color with waves trying to fall over their eyes. And unlike Bucky’s sharp edges, she’s softer, rounder in the face and sweeter in expression. You wonder if the rest is all from his dad?

She laughs joyfully. “Don’t be embarrassed, James! No shame in—“

“Okay, thank you, mom, but we’re not here on date!” 

“Your son is tutoring me, ma’am,” you say politely after introducing yourself by name and you can physically see the excitement drain out of her face.

“Oh.”

Bucky rolls his eyes, but it’s all good nature if the small smile still pressed on his lips is anything to go by. “Well, gee, ma, don’t get too excited.”

She shakes her head. “Can you blame me?” She turns to you conspicuously, wanting him to squirm in his seat. “This boy used to be such a serial dater back in high school. Was worried he’d never find the one. Come college and it’s as if he’s on some kind of dry spell!”

You were not expecting her to say that, so the laugh that comes out of you is just as unexpected and definitely not appealing in any way.

Bucky flushes, mouth hanging open. “Ma! Seriously?”

She shrugs and laughs. “All right, I think I’ve embarrassed you enough. Have a good time and don’t do anything I would, you hear?”

You could practically hear Bucky slamming his head against the table. “Ma!”

“Enjoy, sweetheart,” she says directed at you with a smile and a wink. “Lemme know if you need anything.”

“Thank you, ma’am.”

“Winnie.”

You blink. “Huh?”

She points to the name tag on her uniform with the name Winifred written in cursive. “Call me, Winnie, hon.” You nod and she flashes you another smile and a wink and turns away.

“Wow,” you say with a breath, eyes following after her.

“I know.”

You reach for your drink, still in disbelief at the woman who was so ready to embarrass her son—you liked her. “Your mom, huh?”

He picks up a fry. “Yep.”

“James?”

He finally lifts his gaze to meet yours. “First name. Bucky is part of my middle name, Buchanan.” Wait. What? He mirrors your own look of bewilderment. “You really didn’t know?”

“Uh. No?” Should you have?

He chews on the fry contemplatively and his eyes burn into you. “Huh. Thought you did.”

Your eyebrows knit together as you squirm in your seat.

He waves his hand dismissively. “Forget it. Doesn’t matter.” He leans against the table. “Nobody calls me James other than my mom and sisters, anyway.”

“Not even Steve?”

A grin slips on his face. “Who do you think was the first to call me Bucky?”

“Guess he started a trend, huh?”

He tilts his head up as he grin is slow and lazy. “Guess so.”

You finally dig into your food, melting when the well seasoned fries crunch and then melt into your mouth. These are the best fries you’ve ever had and no one can convince you otherwise. “So, what now?”

Bucky is mid burger bite, pausing for a moment to stare at you. “Hm?” 

“What is your next plan?” You ask, slowly and unsure if you even want to know. “Since today’s fell through.”

His nose scrunches as he presses his lips together tightly, burger landing back on the plate. “I don’t know. I have to think about it.”

A part of you isn’t sure whether you should suggest it, but you do anyway. He’s helping you, right? So, you should help him, right? “What about Tony’s party?”

He visibly flinches—maybe you shouldn’t help him. At all. “Stark parties are overrated.”

“Well, I wouldn’t know,” you admit, leaning back into the padding of the booth. “I’ve never been.”

“Wait. Seriously?” Why is he so surprised? That’s kind of offensive.

“No!”

“Why?”

You shrug, a little skeptical of his interest. “I don’t know? I just never had the chance, I guess? But that’s not important!” There are more pressing matters to talk about, at least for him. You might not be good at helping, but you need to at least keep trying to get better. “For your next plan, wouldn’t it be the perfect place to get Natasha alone? Butter her up a bit?”

His face contorts, lips disappearing and eyes narrowing in your direction. “At a Stark party? Yeah, you’ve definitely never been.”

You resist the urge to roll your eyes. “Isn’t it like any other party?”

He snorts. “Think of the party you had and multiply that by one hundred.”

You’re almost afraid to ask. “Are they really wild?” I mean, you’ve heard stories about how notorious they are, but you thought they were just that—stories.

He nods slowly.

Okay, now you’re conflicted. “Knowing Natasha and Pietro, they're going to force me to go.”

“If it’ll make you feel better, Sam will most likely convince Steve to go,” he offers with a teasing smile. 

You squirm, excitement bubbling in the pit of your stomach. “Really?”

“Yep,” he pops the p. “This could be your chance to get closer to Steve! Maybe flirt a little.”

Heat blooms in your chest, the excitement dying down. “I don’t—I don’t actually know how to flirt.”

“What?”

“I’ve never flirted, so I don’t—“

“Everyone,” he emphasizes, “knows how to flirt.”

“Yeah? Well not me.”

“Okay, tomorrow, noon, meet me at my apartment.”

Your eyes nearly buggered out—did he really—“What?”

“I’m going to teach you how to flirt,” he says, confident and proudly with a toothy grin that has you wanting to smack it away.

[ofgoodmenarchive]

Blighted Empire: Ch 6

A Wolf Among Hounds

Somewhere between stealing leftovers from the kitchen and falling back asleep, Dorian had lost track of time. Stuck in a cell with barely any space, he didn't notice the accumulating aches and pains until his limbs were free to move. All he desired was to stretch out in his warm bad and slumber away the discomfort. He would have indulged for longer if sunlight hadn't assaulted his eyes on several occasions, seeping from beneath the door.

Slowly meeting the day, it occurred he'd told Evallan to be prepared for him on the grounds.

 He might have been right about the whole 'not-being-able-to-stand' thing.

But he stood, readied himself and made for the dining hall- and a late breakfast. There weren't many people about- none of his usual company. He decided to grab some items from a table and eat while he walked. Trying to find at least one piece of bread that wasn't stale, a touch at his shoulder caused him to start. Plates clattered as he spun, fully expecting Marcus to be looming over him.

Instead it was Evallan, hand retracting and head lowering.

 “I did not mean to startle you.”

 “Oh, Maker!” Dorian laughed giddily, bracing against the table. “You're always a sight for sore eyes, Evallan- but never do that again!”

 “I apologise..” Motionless as a statue, only his head moved to indicate a direction. “Marcus has requested us both.”

 “'Both'...?” Losing all appetite, he abandoned the one scrap he'd managed not to drop. “He's not going to want to punish me again, do you think?”

 “No..” The Keeper breathed out sullenly. “I am afraid it may not be as simple as that.”

 “'Afraid'?” He chuckled. “You make that sound like isolation would be preferable.”

Evallan paused, regarded him a moment, then turned.

 “We shall see.”

They began their short walk through the tower in silence and he soon realised the elf had no intention of small-talk. However, days in isolation had made it a necessity for Dorian.

 “I wanted to thank you...You could have got into trouble- I'm surprised you're not.”

Evallan glanced with an exasperated crease around his eyes, visibly ired at the conversation.

 “They are reluctant to discipline me over something they consider minor.”

 “But not reluctant to discipline me!” Dorian snorted.

 “That is why you must not attract further attention to yourself.” Evallan bit out severely then added- softer. “Please...”

Dorian inspected the elf's stern profile, fighting a grin. He dearly wanted to tease- there was no hiding how Evallan agonised over him, veiled in winter as it was. He held himself, thinking it might seem ungrateful.

Entering the barracks, Evallan led him to a floor on the upper level where Marcus waited at an aged table, marred with dents and the errant stain. It was large enough for a dozen people but this late morning it was only the three, the Templar glaring wearily until they seated themselves. Evallan made a point to slip into the chair closest to Marcus, saving Dorian from being in full leering range.

Sitting alongside the Keeper, he tapped fingers against his chair and watched Marcus patiently.

 “Pavus,” The Templar seethed, angling forward. “Turns out your friend's alright, I bet you're happy about that?”

 “Um...” Dorian glanced at Evallan but he appeared similarly baffled. “Well yes, of course.”

 “Well I'm glad someone here...” Marcus chortled a little manically, rubbing his eyes. “...got some good fucking news out of the Deep Roads.”

 “Are you drunk!?” The elf snapped. “What are you babbling about!?”

 “I swear to Andraste, Lavellan,” He snarled, leaning back in his chair. “Don't fucking start with me today.”

The two men glowered at each other for some time, leaving Dorian paralysed. Finally, Marcus was satisfied enough by the quiet to speak.

 “See the news I got to hear from the Deep Roads...was that the Wardens weren't sure if they got the fucking Emissary. They got the nest, they got some Emissaries...but the freak one that's been messing with the Darkspawn? Not sure...”

 “Does this have a point, commander?” Evallan asked in a strained, careful tone.

 “The point is...” His eyes pinned the elf and stayed there. “Soon as they left Orzammar, they get reports of swarms of Darkspawn wrecking the farmlands- strategically...Last heard, they were sighted around Lothering- and do you know what everyone's saying they saw?”

The Keeper furrowed his brow, said nothing.

 “These fuckers are being manipulated by some kind of magic chain bullshit...Now isn't that funny? Isn't that exactly what our shitbag Emissary was doing?”

 “So it escaped the Wardens, or they are sharing their techniques.” Evallan offered tepidly, gaze unmoving from the Templar's leer.

 “Or- it- escaped-” Marcus spat, rearing as if he meant to bite. “Because you went off target and because both of you-!”

Suddenly on his feet, fists smashed into wood, the table creaking in offence.

 “Went on a void-damned blighted fucking walk-about where no one asked you to! You collapsed a bunch of tunnels and opened fuck knows where else! Or is it all a shitting coincidence?!”

 “You have proof of this?!” Evallan shouted back, straightening to a fuller height. “Or is it just your good fortune that you find a way to blame others?!”

 “Fuck off, Lavellan! I don't need blighting proof! You weren't on damned target!”

 “And what of yourself?!” Standing, the elf's palm slammed the table. “Are you not commander?! Where is your responsibility?!”

Marcus breathed deep and clutched vacant air, reigning himself in. Dorian could practically see a purplish vein on his forehead about to burst.

 “I'm not here...to fucking argue...with you.” He meditated upon each syllable as if speaking to himself. “Sit the fuck down, Lavellan.”

Regarding him icily, Evallan lowered from his feet. Marcus remained on his, forcing out each word with audible strain.

 “Now...we can't regroup with the Wardens until we take care of this, and no matter how much I argue and list fucking points...the Circle won't let me take anyone except you two.”

Rocking on his heels, the Templar clapped in an uproar of gauntlets, smiling sardonically- looking a little crazed, Dorian had to admit.

 “So con-fucking-grats! You two are considered the most capable mages in the whole fucking Ferelden Circle! Doesn't that make you feel fucking good about yourselves?!”

 “A-a little?” Dorian chortled his nerves and was silenced;

 “Shut up, Pavus.”

Flopping back into his chair, the Templar sharpened his gaze on them both.

 “Let me make something clear...this isn't a fucking reward for your skill. This is you both making up for your void-damned mistake. Tomorrow you're going to report here, you're going to gear fucking up, and you're going to do what we should have done in the fucking Deep Roads!”

Another bang of metal against splintering wood.

 “And I expect you to follow fucking orders! And to be on your best void-damned behaviour...” Inhaling, his eyes locked on Dorian. “So tell me, Pavus...are you going to fucking behave?”

 “I- yes?” He spluttered, righted his posture “I...will behave?”

He blinked stupidly at the man but it must have been enough, his attention shifting to Evallan.

 “And you, Lavellan...are you going to fucking behave?”

The Keeper's eyes slivered and his jaw hardened but his mouth didn't move.

 “Lavellan...” Dorian could hear the squeak of the Templar's gauntlets as his fingers balled. “Don't make me fucking ask you twice...”

Heart leaping to his throat, he found himself staring desperately into the side of Evallan's face. Without speech he urged him to just bloody agree so they could be out of this deranged meeting!

The elf's posture seemed to waver- ever so slightly- the hinge in his jaw loosed, a murmur of something foul and Dalish escaping him. Yet he relented, voice full of distaste.

 “I will behave.”

 “Perfect!” Marcus gestured with mock-enthusiasm. “Now get the fuck out!”

Chair-legs screeched as Evallan obeyed and Dorian made to follow.

 “Not you, Pavus.”

He halted and stared in alarm. Next to him, Evallan also stilled.

 “Yes you, Lavellan- out.”

The Keeper didn't budge, eyes narrowing.

 “Do you really need to fucking babysit him everywhere?!” Marcus barked and angled to stand.

Catching Evallan's eye, Dorian shook his head in earnest.

 Andraste have mercy, just let it go!

 Just go, Evallan.

Whirling from them in a fury, the door was thrown shut with such force the entire frame trembled.

 “Andraste's-flaming-fucking-tits!” Marcus snarled at the dramatic exit. “You see this bullshit I put up with when all I'm trying to do is my void-damned job!?”

Dorian decided not to risk speech, viewing the Templar passively. Sighing, the man went on.

 “Now...I can't say this in front of him because he's a fucking brat, and will act like he doesn't know how things work,” He said in an almost bemused voice, edging on hysteria. “But I'm expecting him to keep an eye on you...even more, I'm expecting you to keep an eye on him. See, he's touched in the fucking head, so I expect him to ruin my day...but you, you're a Maker-fearing, Andraste-worshipping, civilised kind of man...so we're not going to have any trouble out there, are we, Pavus?”

Throughout this rant Dorian noted the commander's dangerous scrutiny, focus never swaying from his features. Mouth desert-like, he struggled to respond.

 “Of course not, commander...I'm to keep an eye on Lavellan and follow your orders, is that it?”

 “That's it.”

 “And if we're ever in a situation where the first contradicts the second...?”

 “You keep an eye on Lavellan,” Slicing Dorian apart with his look, he dictated further. “Let me be clear, fairy...If you come back and he doesn't, you're going to wish it was the other way around.”

Dorian left the room shakily, Marcus saying to his back;

 “Good talk, fairy.”

He drifted a few steps before Evallan gravitated to his side.

 “What did he want?” He grumbled, unable to hide the depth of his concern.

 “Huh? Oh, uh, nothing...” Not wanting the elf to dwell, he attempted to wave it away. “Just throwing his weight around, you know..”

Evallan hissed a curse and motioned with the suggestion of a turn, compelling Dorian to grab his wrist.

 “Evallan! Come on, please, it's really nothing...” Tugging, he drew him away. “Let's spar a little, alright? I really need to stretch before we're thrown to the wilderness again!”

He laughed breezily and the elf's temper quelled, allowing himself to be led.

READ MORE ON AO3

[dreamiesdotcom]

[12:42] Jisung has this very annoying habit where he falls in love in the worst situations and time, with the most inconvenient people. Note: they fail not always because they're inconvenient, but mostly because they're taken.

Chenle once made a joke about it, how Jisung has a type — most specifically, people who will end up hurting him because they're, well, taken. Jisung laughed along, thinking it was funny because it was indeed true, despite Jaemin arguing that Chenle shouldn't make remarks like that because it might be funny to them, but it might not be to Jisung. The latter still insisted that it's fine because it's really true, as if fate is testing his patience and is teasing him like Donghyuck would. Jisung even made a snarky remark about how Donghyuck is probably secretly Cupid, that's why he sets him up with unavailable people, to which the older only replied with a pout and insisting that he would never do that to Jisung through declarations of love.

It was fine and fun, really. It's not sarcastic, despite how it sounds, because Jisung never really felt attraction strong enough for someone that he cried himself to bed because of their status. It was mostly a crush, a feeling that is mostly only born because they are appealing to his eyes, or is really, really talented in any field he's interested in.

It was nothing serious, just something like admiration more than love.

Things go downhill the moment Donghyuck gathered them all at the table, starting his prepared speech with "I already told the managers, the hyungs and the CEO about this. Now, I need you guys to not freak out like Johnny and Mark hyung did, okay?" and at that moment, Jisung felt scared — for Donghyuck, not for himself, but had he known what the older would say, Jisung would have rather saved his worries for his own.

He opened his phone, swiping a little bit, the ambiance of the room getting antsy — nobody dared to breathe, Donghyuck is rarely serious and when he is, things are really no joke. He lands his phone in the middle, a picture in view. Someone stands shyly in the frame — eyes shining like glitter and lips makes the prettiest grin, fashion rather simple but not any less stylish. Just by staring at the picture, he can conclude given things such as their height, and it's obvious that whoever this person is, God spent a long time finishing and polishing their every little edge.

Jisung thinks this suspiciously looks like someone Haechan would go for. Everything about them just screamed Donghyuck, Haechan or whatever else he can be called, but everyone's minds are too filled with aesthetics that they can't think of that yet. "Oh no, don't tell me... your long lost sibling?!" Jaemin's panicked cry makes the said boy raise his eyes, an agitated 'Do we look like siblings, Na?!' escaping his lips.

"That's right, they're too pretty to be your sibling anyway," Renjun barks, personally offended that Haechan yelled at Jaemin like that, "Hey, that's mean though," Chenle says, contradicting the proud grin he's sporting.

"This," Donghyuck makes a show of pouting his lips on the direction of his phone, "is my beloved —."

Everyone yells, either in shock or joy or both, but there's two things they're yelling about — 'I was about to ask you for the number!' and 'Congratulations!' but they all end up hugging Hyuck, except Renjun and Jisung, both on the not-so-good-with-affection type. He cheers for his hyung, but he dies a little inside.

Jisung would admit to being pretty shallow, the little things make him happy, the little things make him cry, but he treasures every little thing too. It only makes sense that he develops feelings quickly too, and he'd argue that it's more because of his age but Chenle and the others are so near his age and yet they all just seem to crave food and the feeling of being up stage, and there's nothing to do about it anymore so he just makes an effort to be happy for Hyuck. His hyung is such a great guy and they seem like they would compliment each other a lot, so Jisung calms at that, but his heartbeat is restless and he's jealous. Not because he's found his someone, but because said someone looks like a total angel and they fit like missing puzzle pieces. He was crushing on someone taken again, and worse, they're his hyung's, someome he hasn't even met yet.

Now, he decides that he shouldn't even have thought of meeting that quickly because it came too soon, too quick for Jisung to mentally prepare himself. On the car ride, he was more nervous than necessary while the others are bouncing with excitement — Jisung glances at Donghyuck, he's smiling, flattered that the others are this thrilled to meet his love and Jisung's heart melts at the sight. It's only been three days since they know of this, but who is he to not comply with the older's request of going over for dinner at their place?

According to Donghyuck, his Y/N lives alone and is currently in college, a year younger than the boy himself but has always preferred to be independent. Their parents used to visit them every week the first year, but now that it has been a while, visits are limited to once every three months since they're all busy. Jisung hums at the information, finding it very interesting — something it shouldn't, because Jisung have always been on that edge and this fall — he's never felt this but he knows how this will end if he continues.

When they arrive, there was a figure waiting for them at the gate with a smile so angelic on their face and Jaemin gasps loudly, making Hyuck laugh as they go down to finally come face to face. The older smiles, proudly watching as everyone greeted each other. Jisung feels like all the air has been taken away from him and then shoved at him all at once, how it worked he doesn't know, but all he knows as of now is that he really, really shouldn't.

His sight overflows of smiles like honeydew and a voice so gentle, inviting everyone to sit on the table. Something lingers in the gaze that looks at him — a little shy, trying their best to make them feel comfortable with Donghyuck trying his best to ease his nerves by intertwining your hands with each other, thinking it goes unnoticed. Jisung makes an effort to relax. The others immediately ease at the atmosphere, even Renjun who always has his guards up to strangers is laid down like an open book to her after a conversation with him and Chenle (who squealed, by the way) in Mandarin, talking about things only they understood.

Jisung eats quietly, only smiling at and speaking when necessary. In a span of an hour, he picked up on little mannerisms and the moments where you keen whenever Haechan says something in approval of you, and he knows what this means — he's doomed, but this time, not even Zhong Chenle should know, judging how he's so supportive of the relationship.

This repeats a couple more until a year pass, and Jisung just sighs in disappointment at himself. It was supposed to go away two or three weeks, but you came in his life in the form of a storm and it has been there too long already and he knows he isn't prepared for the emotions threatening to wash over him — because you're adorable in a way that makes his heart break, and he can't stop it.

You and Hyuck — you're obviously happily in love, if the way you hold hands and look at each other wasn't already a statement. At first glance, one would think you're ignoring each other but in reality, it'just that you both know when and where certain actions are appropriate. It's a relationship with balance, despite you two liking affection, you didn't display too much PDA and was rather more intimate when it's just the two of you. Jisung confirms this on one of their newly developed tradition of having movie nights whenever they are available (rarely, barely.)

He didn't mean to, but he just passed to their bedroom on the way to the kitchen to get popcorn before he gets a glimpse of his hyung's messy locks, his heart sinking when he realize he's had you in a back hug, both of you swaying slightly and talking in hushed voices. He decides to shake it off, to pass by, but just as he walks away from the door, he hears your little conversation.

"I know I've kissed you like, around twenty or so, I didn't count, but can I please have more?", Haechan's voice is sweet and gentle, and Jisung knows he really shouldn't be eavesdropping — his parents and hyungs raised him better than this. You only answer with 'No, you already had too much and the others are waiting for us to start the movie, Hyuckie' before the older opens his mouth again, "Alright, just one more and we'll go out now. I don't know what's with me, Y/N, I just feel gushy today."

Jisung's heart offers him a bizarre feeling as a giggle escapes your lips, "Maybe it’s the rain," he keens at how your voice is soft and strangely sounding very similar to music in his ears.

"Maybe... but it’s most likely you," was the last words he hears before he decides he shouldn't be hearing this conversation, and plans to make a quick trip to the kitchen before he gets distracted by anything that will hurt him more — keyword, he plans.

He didn't expect to be faced by a huge map, pinned Polaroids and strings marking down places, and he swallows. Maybe they have been dating longer than they knew, and he figures the strings immediately — one string for where you've already been to, the other for where Hyuck has already traveled and the last one, for all the places the two of you went together. His heart flutters and breaks at the fact that the two of you met each other's parents, the glaring proof for where all the strings converge distracting him once again and he dwells on it more than necessary.

Jisung is inside your house. Jisung is spending time with you, inside the little home you built for yourselves and Jisung feels so out of place but it feels so comfortable to be where he doesn't belong. Sometimes he wished he didn't have to fall in love this way, but with how kind you treated him, how prettier your attitude and the way you carried yourself was more than your appearance, he knew he couldn't help it even if he tried. What made him fall for you was not your smile, nor your face, your lips, or your eyes. What made him fall for you was who you are and every little bit of stardust you are made of. What made him fall for you was everything you are that he couldn't have, and maybe that's a factor too. Maybe one of the reasons he can't have enough of you is because he can't have you at all, and breaking his own heart for a beautiful soul like you is the best reason he thinks he can hurt for. It was worth it. After all the times he saw you smile, it was worth it.

It's not even sarcastic, or anything — maybe he wished he was in Hyuck's position instead, that he's the one taking care of you and making you laugh, but he couldn't be any happier that Haechan is happy and so are you. The two of you are obviously in love and that is enough to make him happy. He doesn't need to be a crucial part of the relationship, the equation. Being a part of your lives, or even just Hyuck's, being welcomed into your home and the life you designed for the two of you — it's enough. In fact, it's too much. He can live like this.

He can live with this.

He can try to.

"You're taking too long," Chenle startles him, a hand on his shoulders to bring him back to reality, "Wow, that's awesome. I always knew Hyuckie hyung would go traveling with his significant other… like it's just so like hyung," he mumbles in awe after staring at the wall, moving past Jisung and making a beeline to the popcorn. He calls Jisung forward to help him carry the drinks as well, so they don't have to make two trips.

"Y-yeah. They're great, aren't they?" Jisung mutters as he carries the beverages, throat parched and breathing heavy. Chenle asks if he's okay, and Jisung just nods, muttering something about being anxious for performances and the older of the two makes sure to remind him that he should let loose even just for tonight.

The boy nods, because he knows that he should. For the rest of the night he forgets about his feelings, or at least, he tries to. He jokes around, chattering with the rest of the group, laughing as loud as the others, and judging badly made (mainly horror) movies playing in front of them. At some point he felt like he's on top of the world, doing well in trying to forget and only until his eyes meet the couple, cozy with their pinkies linked to each other, occasionally feeding each other snacks that he's reminded of the things he shouldn't even think about, but he shakes it off his head.

Maybe now he gets it, why Jaemin is always overprotective of Jisung whenever they bring up the topic of him being the worst at choosing people to fall for. Now, while Chenle's jokes are still funny, Jisung realizes that it was only hilarious to him because he never really fell in love with the people he met before — only now did he realize the pain of loving someone unavailable. Jisung laughed along before because he thought it was funny, because it was true, but now he isn't so sure anymore because damn did it hurt more than he could ever imagine.

He breaks his stare at the two of you, feeling awkward that he's staring at people who are also staring at each other. He makes sure to remember the blush on your cheeks and the solemn stare his hyung had, as if you're the most precious gem in the world and he had you. Now that he thinks of it, you actually are. He makes a note of how even he felt Hyuck's love for you through the older's stare, and he smiles. It's obvious that he loves you, and Jisung would never ruin that. Maybe he'll move on from you, maybe he'll love you in silence, but for the both of your sake, he wouldn't make any more move past the closure of being friends. For hyung. For Hyuck. He nods to himself.

Yeah, for Hyuck.

[volturi-or-die]

Twisted: Chapter 19- Cautious

Previous Chapter: Chapter 18- Contradiction

Next Chapter: WIP

Point of View: Minalia

Word Count: 1983

Warnings: Death mention

Mina listen to me!

I shot up quickly, but something around my arms jerked me back slamming my head back into the ground. Shit. 

I looked down at my wrists, tight metal wrapped around them. The five foot long chains they were attached too were already loose from the sudden force I pulled up with. Where the hell was I and why the hell was I chained up? And what was I even wearing? I looked at the jeans and the bright blue tee, but I wasn’t sure where the light gray cape came from. 

“You are finally awake.” Oh so this had to be a nightmare. I turned towards Jane, her face as stoic as the day I met her. The lights were dim around her and the air was cold. I looked around and noticed the stone and bars around me. Why the hell does the world’s most powerful vampire coven need a dungeon, although the more important question is why was I in it?

“What am I doing here?” Jane looked at me carefully, her face showing signs of irritation by my question. I was in no position to deal with her, particularly with my headache getting stronger by the second. 

“You have to be joking,” she said. 

I raised my head and glared at her. “Do I look like I’m joking?” Jane was the least hospitable member of the Volturi I knew. I may not have spent much time in Volterra, but only Alec was the one to truly help me, if help was what that was. 

Alec. What happened to him? I remembered following him and we ran into those two vampires who had Renesmee. Ness. 

“Wait! Is everyone okay? Where’s Renesmee? Where’s Alec?” Torturous pain shot through my head with each question. I wanted to scream out, but I shut my eyes and tried to hold it together. “Jane quit with the pain.” 

“First off, if I was torturing you then you would be in worse shape than that,” she scoffed. “Now, Alec and Renesmee are both alright although no thanks to you.” 

“What’s that supposed to mean?” 

“Do you truly not remember anything?” she asked, although I could almost get a sense of concern in her voice. I took a deep breath and willed myself to remember what happened. 

I looked at my knuckles, fully healed from the punches I gave the female. That other vampire, Stefan, he got into a fight with Alec. My head was hurting more and more as I thought about it. The thought of being pulled off the woman, going through the air-

Wait. I turned to Jane. My head was pounding at this point. “Why am I not dead?”

“I do not know. However, you are most certainly not human.” 

“No shit Sherlock. What am I?” Before Jane could answer me, Carlisle and Demetri entered the chamber. They both seemed concerned over my condition but overall relieved. 

“Glad to see you’re awake,” Demetri said with a soft smile. “What do you remember?”

“She doesn’t remember anything after her death,” Jane answered for me. Carlisle unlocked the door and Demetri handed him the key to remove the chains from the ground but left the wrist ones on. He looked at me apologetically, but I knew this wasn’t his doing. 

“Aro wants to speak to you,” Carlisle said as he embraced me. I let myself be held this once, knowing all too well I may not make it out of this. If I was in here, in chains, then whatever I was posed a threat to them all, Alec and Renesmee included.

Carlisle let me go and we walked out, following Demetri and Jane to the chamber. We passed by the library, now cleaned up and empty. I was only in there, just yesterday, or was it yesterday? “How long have I been out?”

“Two days, since you changed back” Demetri answered. Changed back? What did he mean? Was I shifter? A pain shot through my head forcing me to fall to my knees. Carlisle grabbed me before I hit the ground, but the pain in my head was still there. 

Carlisle scooped me up and carried me the rest of the way. Once we reached the throne room, he set me back down and I faced everyone. Most of the Cullens were there: Renesmee, Emmett, Edward, Bella, and Jasper. With the guard there and the masters, this could turn into a bloodbath if it came to it, but for now I didn’t care as I ran to Ness. She hugged me close before Emmett cut in to hug me as well. 

“How you holding up kid?” he asked.

“Yes dear Minalia, how are you?” Aro interrupted us. I faced the masters now, Aro’s own curiosity a stark contrast to Caius’ visible anger and disgust. This really was not going to end well.

However there was a pair of eyes that struck me. Alec. He looked at me, emotionless as the days spent in the library. Perhaps I should have known, the heat of the moments earlier  were not enough to change his feelings for me. Well, who needed a friend in the Volturi guard anyways. 

Carlisle came and stood behind me as Emmett wrapped his arm around my shoulders. I knew they were being protective, but I didn’t know how much this would even do. I felt a rush of calm sweep over me as I realized Jasper was doing his best to keep me level.

My attention returned to Aro, “I’m doing fine sir.” 

“I’m certainly glad to hear that dear. You are not injured?”

“No, just a mere headache.” Carlisle looked at me concerned, knowing I’ve never truly suffered from one before. 

“How unfortunate. I am sure that is unusual.” 

“Yes it-”

“Enough!” Caius exclaimed, startling everyone around. “We are not here to exchange pleasantries. She is a threat to our kind and she must be eliminated.” 

At this everyone jumped. In a split second I was pushed back behind Emmett, Jasper pulling me to the side. Edward stepped forward with them and each of them bared their teeth as Felix and Santiago moved in front of the leaders along with Jane and Alec. Everyone held their defensive positions except Carlisle and Aro.

Aro made a motion for everyone to stand down, but no one stopped. Carlisle spoke now saying, “Everyone, it’s fine. No one will get hurt.” 

Felix looked at Edward, who nodded in agreement with him. They both backed down and stood up at the same time followed by everyone else. Caius was not pleased as this as I made my way forward again.

“Forgive my brother,” Aro said reasserting himself. “However everyone may feel more comfortable if you were fully detained.” 

I moved towards Felix who placed his hands on my arms. Santiago stood beside him as the Cullens stood back. If I could avoid anyone getting hurt right now, I would. As Felix held me, I realized that someone was missing from the area. 

“Where’s what’s his name? Stefan?” Felix stiffened, and I looked to Alec whose eyes were getting darker with anger by the second. 

Aro answered me, “He escaped. For now. At the present moment you are our concern.” Aro held out his hand to me, as if to ask permission. I complied and he touched my hand. 

I regretted it instantly as I screamed out in pain. An arm caught me as I crumbled to the ground, the memories of two days ago coming back. 

I felt my body contorting, my mind was no longer my own. A growl escaped my lips as I emerged from the rubble. I felt my paws making imprints in the ground, my hind legs going into a crouching position. 

I remembered it all. I remembered the growling, the sharp smell of vampires, the feeling of pure animalistic rage coursing through my veins. I was not in control, no matter how much I wanted to be. 

The same feeling began to course through me again. I felt the pain subsiding but with it came out a growl from me. No not now. I couldn’t go back to that. I got out of it last time, right. I had to remember. 

“Mina, it’s me, Emmett. Please come back to us kid.”

“You are our family. We love you kiddo.”

Emmett and Renesmee. They tried to pull me back to my own humanity, but they weren’t alone last time. It was their voices and Alec’s own abilities that allowed me to fully become aware of them last time. All I remembered was the dark, and the voices that could pull me out of it, but the memory wasn’t working.

Suddenly everything went numb. Alec. My hearing came back and this time it was everyone pulling me back. 

“Mina, you’re okay. You’re not gone. Come back,” Emmett reassured me. 

“Listen to my voice,” Ness called out. I felt the calm sweeping over me. No I wouldn’t let myself lose control. Not now. I willed myself to listen, to feel their comfort and come back to my humanity. 

I felt the mist pulling away as I regained my senses. As I opened my eyes, I noticed it was Alec that caught me from falling. Aro was no longer holding my hand but rather now behind Santiago and Jane along with Marcus and Caius.

Caius was the first to speak up, “See for yourselves! She’s a threat! We cannot allow her to live!” 

“Wait a second Caius, she didn’t transform,” Carlisle tried to reason with him. Everyone began to tense again, battle lines beginning to be drawn. I couldn’t let it get any farther now.

“No. He’s right,” I conceded. There was no way I could guarantee not hurting anyone. When I transformed, I knew I wasn’t in control. This was the only way to keep everyone safe. 

“Mina no,” Edward tried to reason with me, but I put my hand up. 

“No. I’ll only hurt everyone. Yeah I came out of it now, but there’s no way to know I can every time. I remember everything. I almost hurt everyone.” I looked at Alec, and mouthed ‘I’m sorry.’ He said nothing as he let me go. He was hiding something in his eyes, something I could not read as he moved back to Jane’s side. 

“Aro,” Carlisle said pleadingly. There was no way Aro would let me live. No matter how curious he was about my state, the laws wouldn’t allow it. I was a threat, to vampires, to humans, to all supernatural beings in general. I couldn’t keep a secret in this way, not if I had no control. 

Aro moved forward, “Unfortunately you are right dear one.” The Cullens erupted in protest. I was going to lose the only family I had, but this is what family does. I have to protect them, even from myself. 

“Everyone please stop. I love you all, and I am thankful for the home you have given me these past few years.” I tried to stop the tears from coming. I knew I couldn’t say goodbye like this. 

Renesmee hugged me close, her tears starting to come. “Please, Mina.” I didn’t want to give this up, not my own sister. “Don’t go.” 

“Maybe she doesn’t have to.” Ness let me go and everyone turned to Alec, even Aro was surprised. He took Alec’s hand and stayed silent for a minute. 

“Aro,” Edward began, “Would you consider it?” 

Aro looked at me, “Consider it, yes. But as you know it will be her decision.” 

What were they possibly talking about. My decision to what? I already chose to give up my life for my family, what other choice could I make? 

Alec looked at me expectantly, somehow pleading with me to say yes to his next question. “Minalia, would you consider joining the guard?”

--

Tagging: @volturisecretary @phil-dwyer-stan-account @alecvolturi @felixdeservedbetter

[twisted-tales-of-all]

Disaster Date

Kwon Jiyong x Reader

Summary: You and your boyfriend continue your weekly date nights, all the way until the end.

A/N: This is a bit of a prequel to a request I got for him. I apologize for this, as it’s very sad, but it will make the follow-up will be better understood.

Warnings: MAJOR CHARACTER DEATH 

Word Count: ~1.2-1.3K

You and your long-term boyfriend consistently practice weekly date nights despite your busy schedules. Doing this, you realized very quickly how you'll consistently look forward to Tuesday every week. Even after five years, the two of you haven't lost your spark. Sometimes romantic, sometimes crazy, sometimes relaxing, the dates always make you happy. No matter what you do, being together puts a jump in your step, even if you're absolutely exhausted from work. Just seeing him or hearing his voice makes you forget anything bad that may have happened the week prior. From his laughter and always-present smile, you know he feels the same way about you.

This week, you agree to try try something competitive. You both decide on miniature golf and go-kart racing. Simple, sweet, and easily turned into a battle to the death. Both of you readied yourselves for the other's dirty tricks, using the whole week to come up with the best strategies to win. In this way, you both act like children, but you can't seem to help yourselves to the temptation of rubbing your win in the other's face.

Finally, Tuesday arrives. You drive to the meet-up location, jamming out to some of your boyfriend's songs to hype yourself up - not that you needed anything more than the idea of holding his hand again. Arriving, you catch sight of his car and park next to it. Looking through the windows, you find it empty, then pout to yourself and get out of your own car to go find him. You make sure to lock it, then turn to the entrance to find Jiyong smiling at you, his hand waving mercilessly above his head. The sight makes you laugh as you send a small wave back at him and walk over.

"Ready to lose, you energetic child?" Your first words spill out in typical fighting fashion.

"Man, you've gotten weirder since last week. Now you're even talking to yourself." He combats cleanly with a smirk and no hesitation.

You roll your eyes dramatically at his comment. Turning on your heel, you walk into the building, ready to compete. Jiyong follows closely behind. When you stop at the information booth, he makes sure to kick your butt before standing next to you, hand around your waist.

"Two people for the hard course please." He feigns innocence, completely ignoring your glare due to his attack. He pays the fee, chooses a putter fitting to his height and a golf ball fitting his color preference.

"Always red," You tease, then claim your putter and a green ball to contradict his.

"You know it's lucky. I always win with red."

"But what if I want to win?" You pout as you follow him to the course. You know your puppy-dog eyes always work, so you shoot them in his direction.

"You're great, love. Sometimes you can win." He breaks, holding out the red ball for you. As you go to take it, he pulls it away, "Just not today." He quickly pecks your cheek, but the lovely moment quickly disappears as you retaliate with a hit to his arm.

As usual, a quick game of rock-paper-scissors decides the person to start. Jiyong wins, starting the round. He finishes it on top. Quickly, he begins dancing around, bragging about how much better he scored.

"You beat me by two strokes, Jiyong. Be a little more humble. What would your fans think?"

"They'll laugh at me, but be proud I won." He sticks out his tongue. "Now let's make it 2-0 by beating you in go-karts!" Before you can respond, he skips his way back to the information booth, returning the putters and asking about the racetrack.

"Is there a way to just race two people at one time?" By the time you reach him, you hear this question, forcing your eyes to roll so far back into your head that you get disoriented for a quick second. As the worker explains the additional fee, Jiyong nods in understanding but hands over his premium black credit card anyway. "I want this to be fair, so we'll make it private. I don't mind the fee."

Within 15 minutes, the two of you examine the go-karts and strap yourselves into your favorites, ready to race. Some people in line clearly support Jiyong. You assume they follow him or his group, so you don't take offense. As the instructor finishes explaining the rules and controls, you rev the engine, glaring at your opponent as the signal counts down. The instant the light turns green, you both race down the track, staying virtually neck-and-neck for the first two laps. You begin to inch ahead in the third lap, but the race continues until lap seven, so you don't let yourself get cocky.

You turn your head during the straightaway portion of the fifth lap to check the distance between you and Jiyong. You make eye contact as he accidentally hits your vehicle with his, sending you spinning to a stop. You feel the anger boil within you, thinking of the move as his strategy, until you look up and see his kart upside down outside of the track boundaries. Instantly, your anger turns to fear and worry. You fidget around until you can remove your body from the stalled kart. You race over. A worker holds you back and you can see another on the phone, clearly speaking to emergency services. The worker holding you back keeps warning you about something, but your attention remains only on the disaster in front of you. Nobody rushes to his help. You can't understand why. There's blood flowing from underneath the vehicle. Why won't they help him? You scream his name over and over, hoping someone - anyone - will help him. In the blink of an eye, the kart leaves your vision. Instead, flames engulf the spot. At the same moment, emergency services arrive on the scene. Firemen start working to take out the fire. Paramedics line up on the sidelines, ready to help your boyfriend after the fire disappears. But you know. You drop to your knees, unable to hold up your body weight anymore. He makes no noise. No screams of agony. You know.

When the fire ends, paramedics rush onto the kart. They check for a pulse. They find nothing. Carefully but quickly, they flip the car. Attempting to revive him, they follow procedure down to the millisecond. After all the failed attempts, one paramedic checks her watch and writes down the established time of death. The others pack up the equipment. Someone approaches you and asks you a question, but your mind is completely blank.

Immediately, you prepare for the funeral. You join his immediate family as a chief mourner, standing there in numbing emotional torment as you watch his family, friends, band mates, and other idols come pay their respects to the king of k-pop. You know that hundreds of fans have worked together to send in wreaths for his funeral, and that many stay outside in mourning since they can't come inside. The first two days pass by in a blur of black, white, and bowing forms.

The third day comes, and you force yourself to choke back the tears as you and the family take part in the final ceremony. Following the conclusion of the ceremony, you follow the hearse to the cremation center. Upon finally seeing the urn placed in the reserved spot, you can't help but break down.

The love of your life sits here now. Your Tuesdays will be spent here now.

[notasiren21]

The Darkness Comforts Me More (Ch. 2-pt 2.)

(Female Byleth x Felix)

~*~

She didn’t show up that day, and Felix missed her more than he cared to admit that night as well. He had been unable to sleep and he desperately wished it didn’t have to do with the fact that it was because she wasn’t in bed with him.

He sat in his desk, staring painfully at the wooden surface and books that laid before him. A familiar migraine presented itself yet again, leaving him irritable as always and hearing Seteth’s voice yelling at Sylvain and Caspar again for today’s lessons would send him on a murder spree. Had he been an imbecile, he would’ve blessed the goddess above for the silence that fell over the room as shoes clicked against stone.

But it was Felix, he was as sharp as a good blade.

He turned his head a fraction just in time to see Byleth walking in and passing him to her desk in front.

Face, pretty and blank as ever looked at the roster and then the room, checking names.

If no one was at the battle that day, they wouldn’t be able to tell she had just lost her father recently. She carried the lesson through and through, even when discussing a technique Jeralt used in close combat.

Felix could see the pain she carried though.

He could also see the vexed expression on the boar’s face and Sylvain contemplating on taking her back to her dorm or not to rest.

In all honesty, it would make most sense for Sylvain and Byleth to be together since their closeness in age and despite all, Sylvain was mature if one was to set aside girls for the matter.

Sobbing in the back of the classroom escalated and made his migraine pang violently against his right eye. Now who the hell...

Byleth stilled, “Who is crying.” How she managed to make that sound like a displeased statement instead of a question, the class may never know.

Byleth however, already knew. It was the same person Hilda had expressed more compassion for when she managed to drag herself out of bed. It was the talk of the rest of the school day when Claude came down on Hilda hard for being so insecure and harsh when Byleth’s father had just died, and to tell her she seemed fine and Hilda was more worried about Leonie.

Not to mention when he and Mercedes were walking to the greenhouse together for their daily chore and overheard Leonie weeping to Byleth like she had been the child of him instead of her.

If asked, Felix would admit from the bottom of his heart:

He thought she was bitch and insignificant.

It seemed the whole class was not fond of her to an extent as well. All trying to avoid the drama she brought forth.

Dimitri, ever the prince, tried to intervene. “Leonie, how about we calm down a-,”.

“Shut up! You don’t understand!” She screamed back.

Shut up.

Byleth still faced down at her notes, fingers playing with the edge of a book cover. “Leonie, please refrain yourself from disrupting my class.”

“Oh, that’s rich coming from you, Professor!”

Her head tilted, gears in her head turning to predict the outcome of this situation. How well was Felix beginning to read her? How well did he know..

“Excuse me?”

Oh, right. Fight ensuing.

He felt he should take part in stopping the fight, mainly for Byleth’s sake since she we still hurting. But really, he just wanted to see “the bitch get laid out” as Sylvain would say, wanting revenge for using his training sword one day without permission and breaking it.

“I’m just saying. Something crossed my mind, something I wanted to ask for awhile now.”

“And that is?”

There’s no way she is that childish or dumb to start-

“Are you really Captain Jeralt’s kid?”

Feel free to kill her, Byleth.

Her eyes narrowed ever so slightly, choosing her words carefully, “That’s what I’m told.”

“That's a pretty detached tone to take about your own family.” Leonie bit back.

“That’s just my tone in general.” Felix nearly missed the cute quirk her dark eyebrow did in retaliation.

Leonie huffed angrily, “Sure, fine whatever then. Let me ask this, what’s your opinion of him, then? You must look up to him, at least?” The end of the sentence seemed too contradicting to be genuine or even remotely out of pure curiosity.

Byleth crossed her arms, “I respect him, of course.”

Present tense, she still holds him in high regards even after passing.

This seemed to push at her more than it should, “Hm. It doesn't sound like you really appreciate him. You didn't even know until you came here that he used to lead the Knights of Seiros, did you? If it weren't for him, you wouldn't be half the person you are now. You've probably never even thought about how lucky you are.”

The whole class was on edge and trying to silence her.

“Hey, stop.” Ashe tried, turning back to look at her.

“Leonie, seriously knock it off, that’s enough.” Ingrid said beside her.

“Ugh! OK, this really bothers me! Listen up. I don't care if you're the teacher and I'm the student. I'm going to outshine you. I know you were some famous mercenary before you came here, but let me tell you something... I'm going to be better than you ever were! In fact, I'll surpass you in no time at all, so don't blink. You might miss it.”

Byleth blinked.

Felix snickered. That was cute.

She didn’t offer her the curtesy of responding, not giving her the time of day. Earning immense respect from the pitying students and concerning Felix further knowing who she was behind closed doors.

“Really? Nothing to say?”

“What did you want me to say? I was taking my time to see if I missed it. Didn’t find anything.”

“Listen here-,” Leonie stood from her desk, hands pressing against wood.

Byleth took a glance at Felix, feeling his impatience rubbing off on her and sending a subtle smirk his way that the rest of the class missed.

“Maybe you should be more concerned with something other than me?”

“Yeah? Like what?”

“Perhaps your grades? The most pressing would ironically be your grade in sword fight and techniques?”

“Where the hell do you get off, Byleth?” There was venom in her voice.

“That’s Professor to you, and I’m just merely mentioning it to inform you that you’re currently at a D+. Whatever you’ve been doing since then has clearly reflected poorly and no, this isn’t biased or out of judgement.”

“It clearly is!” She shrieked, flames engulfing her cheeks and matching her horrible hair.

What was Sylvain’s phrase again? ‘Just lay the bitch out’?

“It’s not. I’d tell you to ask my father who happened to sit in on that one week -per your insistent and pestering requests that had him drinking rum in my classroom- and he had been disappointed, seemingly expecting you to at least live up to half the hype you created yourself.”

“I knew I smelled alcohol then.” Sylvain murmured to himself.

“You’re lying!”

‘Lay. The. Bitch. Out.’. Huh, has a nice ring to it.

“I’m not. He spent that following weekend training with you in hopes that the blame didn’t fall to him. He traced the issue back to you.”

She was marching up towards the desk and both Dimitri, Sylvain, and Felix jumped to action, a standing protectively in front of Byleth.

Dimitri tried reasoning with her again, “Come on, Leonie, this isn’t necessary.”

“Back off, prince of the naive. I need to take care of this bitch.”

Felix growled, surprising some in the class. “The only bitch here, is you. I’d suggest you step off before we really see what a D+ swordsman looks like against an A+graded swordsman with a A in dark magic.” His hand was ready to draw his sword.

“Holy shit, you’re that good?” Sylvain cocked his head in interest, earning a glare from a few for his distraction.

Leonie struggled against the boys, growing more aggravated by the second. “I was doing just fine, had high grades every semester.”

“Our teacher last year was more incapable than Manuela after a drinking binge.” Ashe remarked.

“But then you come along... And it's like you don't appreciate Captain Jeralt at all, or how lucky you were to have him around your whole life! Ugh! It still really bothers me! You might be his kid, but I'm still his best apprentice! Got it?!”

“Are you done?”

“Am I done? Really? That’s what you’re going to say?”

“If I contradict you anymore, you might just burst.”

“Go ahead, bitch.”

Teeth bared from Felix, a low growl emitting from his chest again. “Call her a bitch one more time, Pinelli.”

Dimitri tried holding her back, “Leonie, please settle yourself. This isn’t proper.”

“I said go ahead!”

“He told me every so often I had been his best apprentice up until I won him in a duel. He said from then on, I would forever be his best apprentice and his best equal.”

Leonie faltered.

Byleth walked by, stoic and expressionless but anger and something feral swelled in her eyes that greatly worried Felix.

She stopped short, near where the red head and the boys were holding her. “I don’t take kindly to those who try to insistently bed my father, Leonie.” She glanced, shocked. “Yes, I’m well aware. I caught you slipping alcohol into his food on several occasions and catching him as he stumbled out of rooms sick, grabbing onto me as he whispered your intentions and to escort him away before you found him again.”

Dimitri let go of her like she burned him, Sylvain stepped back, judgement passing his eyes knowing he would never even go that far.

And Felix drew his sword.

Byleth’s hand settled on his, guiding it back to his belt. “Settle, I think she learned her lesson.” She looked fully at all the boys who heard the most secret confession that they could imagine. “That was never intended to lay upon your ears, but keep it to yourselves. As much as she acts a monster, she’s human.” Byleth walked away, not so even much as a glance in the persistent girl’s direction. ��Oh, and boys?”

They turned their attention to her.

Her dazzling smile and that damn dimple made full appearance, even if it didn’t reach her eyes.

“Yeah?” Sylvain called out.

“Take her to Lady Rhea and Seteth, see to it that she is transferred out of my class and dealt with. That is all, class is dismissed.” And she disappeared.

[1899-newsboy-strike]

Jack Kelly Must Die Pt. 2

part one part three 

Requested (continued): Have you seen “John Tucker must die”? I have a suggestion for a fic inspired by it. You don’t need to see the movie, I’ll explain the req; So Jack is an ultimate playboy and a couple of his exes wants revenge. They take this new girl (reader) and transform her to fit all Jack’s standards so that once he falls in love with her, she can dump him and thereby teach him a lesson. But Reader end up falling for Jack too. However will it end? :0 You decide! 

Warnings: none? angst?

Summary: You were never supposed to get feelings for Jack, but you couldn’t help but fall for him. You couldn’t stand lying to him, but you feared what might happen once he found the truth. What was worse was the thought of Katherine and Sarah finding out about your feelings for him.

———————————–

You were sat in your room, Katherine and Sarah both gawking at the story you told them about your date with Jack. “He never held the door open for me.” Katherine grumbled, Sarah agreeing from next to her. “He doesn’t seem that bad. He was really sweet throughout the whole date.” You explained making them laugh. “Aside from holding the door open for you don’t let that change your mind about him. The first date with him was pretty great, but wait for the next one I guarantee you he’ll try to get in your pants by the end of the night.” Katherine explained making you sigh.

“Don’t worry he won’t force you to do anything you don’t want to do. Just do what you did last time. This will be over before you know it, it’s going to be so much fun to see him heartbroken for once.” Katherine explained after seeing the concerned look on your face about her comment. “I wouldn’t go that far. We just want him to feel some of what we felt.” Sarah explained, and you couldn’t help but feel closer to Sarah than Katherine, but that didn’t mean that you agreed with what you were doing. You were starting to feel like you shouldn’t have agreed to this, but you were in too deep to get out now.

Jack was always around you at school, talking to you whenever he saw you walking in the hall. No matter how much you tried to convince yourself the feelings you felt toward him were just a ploy, there was a part of you that knew that wasn't true. “Guess who?” Someone whispered in your ear once their hands covered your eyes. “Hey Jack.” You laughed pulling his hands away from your eyes. “Are you free today after school? We can finally go catch a movie.” He explained, the smile on his face causing butterflies to erupt in your stomach. “Yeah, I’m free. I’ll meet you after the final bell.” You explained, your heart fluttering when he kissed your cheek. “See you then.” He said giving you a quick side hug.

When you were waiting in the front of the school, an arm wrapped around your shoulder making you jump. “Sorry, didn’t mean to scare you.” Jack laughed making you give him a small shove. “A warning would be nice.” You laughed along with him, your fingers intertwining with the hand that was draped over your shoulder, both of you walking in the direction of his car. “What movie are we going to see?” You asked, looking up at him. “We’ll see when we get there.” He kissed your forehead, only making you even more confused. You knew he did bad things, but the way he’d always acted with you contradicted everything Katherine and Sarah told you.

You both walked to your seats once you bought your tickets, both of you deciding that you didn’t want any snacks or drinks. Throughout the movie you were both intently watching, or at least you thought Jack had been watching the movie. He’d been staring at you for a while, and you hadn’t noticed. His hand slipped in yours and you glanced up at him, smiling before leaning against him. He let go of your hand, his arm wrapping around you to your hands reconnecting on your lap. “Y/N.” Jack whispered making you look back up at him. “Yeah?” You whispered back sitting up to hear him better. 

“I really like you.” He admitted making your heart clench at his words. “I think I really like you too.” You confessed, not only to him but to yourself making your eyes widen at the realization. Before you could think about it any further, Jack’s lips met yours. A small gasp left you, it wasn’t just your first kiss with Jack, but your first kiss. You couldn’t ignore the whole feeling you felt with Jack’s lips against yours. His hand came up to hold your face, deepening the kiss earning a content sigh from you. 

The rest of the movie, you couldn’t get your heart rate to slow down. You had a warm fuzzy feeling in you, your head resting on Jack’s chest, his head resting upon your own. The more he acted this way with you the more you forgot the whole reason behind why this had started. Jack wasn’t the person he was made out to be, and you were starting to see that. He was rubbing small circles in your arm, finally starting to enjoy the movie with you in his arms. You couldn’t help but snuggle up into him, feeling comfortable in his embrace.

You were walking hand in hand with Jack, one of you swinging your arms slightly. You both walked into a coffee shop, getting coffee as well as a pastry, both of you sitting near the back to be by yourselves. “Y/N, I’ve never really done this before. I don’t know if you’ve heard what some of the girls say about me at school. They’re all true. I used to be horrible, but before I even asked you out I would see you and hear about you. I’ve never felt this way with anyone before, and I just wanted to know if you wanted to be my girlfriend?” He asked, looking down at his hands the whole time. “I’ve never done this either, and I mean the whole boyfriend thing not what you said. Your past doesn’t define you Jack, especially when you’re trying to change and get better. I would love to be your girlfriend.” You smiled softly, holding his hand giving it a comforting squeeze.

“He asked you to be his girlfriend?” Sarah asked completely shocked at the news. “This is going to be fun! He’s whipped.” Katherine laughed, making your smile drop. “I’m not going to do that anymore. He isn’t who you say he is. He’s a person, and playing with his feelings isn’t going to undo what he did to you. He’s trying to change.” You explained earning a scoff from Katherine. “He just wants you to think he’s changed. He probably told you that in case you hadn’t heard anything bad about him yet.” She explained, only making you feel more frustrated with her. 

“I know he hurt you, and so many other girls at the school, but that doesn’t mean he’ll never change. He’s acted completely different from what you’ve told me and I mean completely different. You may want to get back at him, but it won’t change anything.” You explained making her glare at you. “He has you wrapped around his finger Y/N, and when he hurts you I won’t be around to help you through it when I’ve warned you multiple times.” She explained, storming out of your house. 

“She’s just mad that Jack’s acting different than she wanted him to. I wouldn’t worry about it, he sounds like he’s great. I hope you both will be happy, I’m really sorry we both dragged you into this.” Sarah apologized making you wave her off. “Hey.” You called out to her when she headed toward the door. “We’ll still be friends right?” You asked earning a smile from her. “Of course. Just because our friendship started off because of Katherine’s plan doesn’t mean that it has to end because the plan is over.” She explained with a small nod from her before she left.

You hadn’t talked to Katherine ever since she left your house a week ago, and just assumed that she had put the whole situation behind her. You were minding your own business near your locker, Jack leaning against the lockers near yours. “Are you almost done?” He whined, making you laugh. “Yes, almost.” You smiled going on your tippy toes to give him a small kiss. “Hey Jack.” You heard from behind you making you turn around to see Katherine. You were immediately on edge, your heart beginning to race.

“So I heard you guys got together. Did you tell him?” She asked you, earning a confused glance from Jack. “What is she talking about Y/N?” Jack asked making you shake your head at Katherine. “Your whole relationship was a lie. The only reason she ever dated you was because she was helping me and Sarah get revenge for what you did to us.” Katherine explained making tears blur your vision. You glanced over to Jack, a complete shocked look on his face. “Is that true?” He asked, sounding distraught. “Maybe it was originally, but I never meant to hurt you once I got to know you.” You explained, your voice cracking trying not to cry. 

“Well I guess it’s too late about hurting me.” Jack explained before walking away without another word. “Are you really that self centered that you have to get your way? Grow up Katherine.” You sniffed wiping the tears that began to fall down your face walking away. You left Jack countless voicemails on his phone explaining everything. You knew this would come back to haunt you, but you pushed it to the back of your head. You knew you shouldn’t have been as upset, knowing it was your fault that you ever agreed to this in the first place.

You still continued leaving messages, letting Jack know how you truly felt. You missed him, the way he talked to you everyday when you walked in the hall. Now you just awkwardly looked at each other in the hall anytime you passed by each other. Whether he counted the relationship as fake or real, it was real to you. Your feelings had been real ever since the beginning, and Jack had been your first kiss and you couldn’t take that back, refusing to call it fake. You had been moping around your house thinking about calling Jack again, when the doorbell rang. You groaned standing up to reluctantly answer the door. When you opened the door you stopped dead in your tracks when you saw Jack standing in front of you. “I listened to your voicemails.” He explained softly.