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pathologicalreid · 11 months ago

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the archer | S.R.

in which a trip to your hometown leads to an exposed past and a wrongful arrest, you can't help but wonder who could stay

who? spencer reid x fem!BAU!reader

category: angst

content warnings: normal cm violence/death. mentions of sexual assault and physical assault. mentions of miscarriage and dv. arson/fires. please take care of yourself while reading <3.

word count: 5.96k

a/n: if you or someone you know is a victim of domestic violence, the US hotline is 800-799-7233. be well and be safe.

can you see right through me?

Emily had called you into her office fifteen minutes before the briefing began to let you know that the case was in your hometown. “There are some things that may come to light in a small town, and I wanted to let you know that you can stay behind if you need to,” she told you, having shut the blinds to her office to give you the most privacy she could.

Giving it a moment, you thought about it before you met her eyes, “if someone tries to say something, I’d rather be there to clear things up than let them say anything.” You wiped your clammy palms on your plants before standing up, “and besides, who better to work on victimology than someone who knows the town.”

You stepped out of the office, holding the door open for Emily before the two of you made your way to the roundtable room.

The two victims had been killed a week apart, they were both women who you had gone to school with. The first was in your graduating class, Victoria Reynolds, kidnapped, sexually assaulted, and asphyxiated. The second was a year ahead of you, Melanie Baylor, kidnapped, sexually assaulted, and asphyxiated. The team had been called in by the lead detective on the case, Charlie Platten, and he had likely made the call without telling the police chief.

It had already been three days since the second body was recovered, and Emily didn’t want to waste any more time. You left the roundtable room to grab your go-bag, smiling when you felt a familiar presence next to you. “Are you alright?” Spencer asked, leaning against your desk while you reached underneath it for your bag.

Stepping in front of him, you looked up at him, “I’m okay, Spence.” You plopped your go bag on top of your desk, “it’ll be okay,” you whisper.

“And if at any point it’s not,” he prompted, placing a hand on your waist.

You simpered up at him, “You’ll be the first person I go to, love.”

He reached over and grabbed your bag off of your desk, carrying it to where the rest of the team is waiting for the elevator. “I’ll admit, I am interested in seeing your hometown,” he told you, letting you step into the elevator before him.

“Yeah, Y/N, maybe you can show us some of your old haunts once we solve the case,” Luke chimed in from the back of the elevator.

Laughing breathily, you turned your head to face Luke, “Do I really strike you as the kind of person to have ‘old haunts’, Alvez?”

A few of your team members chuckle. You faced forward, wondering how long it would be before one of them saw through you. When working with profilers, it was always a risk.

'cause all of my enemies started out friends

Emily sent you and Luke to the latest crime scene while she and Spencer set up at the precinct. JJ and Matt met with the latest victim's family while Tara and Rossi met with the medical examiner. Your stomach felt unsettled as soon as the plane landed, you had a bad feeling about this case. Spencer tried to ask you what was going on with you, but you just brushed him off.

You would tell him. After this case was over and you went home, you would tell Spencer everything. He deserved that.

“Did you know her?” Luke asked, using a gloved hand to inspect a shard of glass he found on the concrete.

Blinking rapidly, you snapped out of your stupor, “Melanie? Yeah, she was a year ahead of me in school. I graduated with Victoria though.” You used the toe of your boot to clear some dirt off of what looked like some sort of plaque. “I wasn’t all that close with either of them, but in a town this small, you kind of know everyone,” you explained.

Standing back up and walking back over to Luke, you looked at the building, it’s an abandoned factory on the edge of town. “Is there any significance to this building?”

“It was a functioning factory in the eighties,” you explained, looking at the vines growing up the side of it. “This business was the entire economy of the town, when the factory went down, so did the town.”

Luke nodded, taking a step back and eyeing the entire decrepit building. “And the church? Where the first body was found.”

You pursed your lips, “Only church in town, I was baptized there, when it burned down people had nowhere else to go, so they stopped believing.”

“How did the fire start?” He asked, turning the knob on the factory door, and looking surprised when it opened.

You shrugged, “lightning strike, I thought. I wasn’t much of a believer, especially once my mom died.”

Alvez nodded in understanding, “Would you say that both of these locations are important to the town and its history?”

Nodding, you followed Luke back to the SUV, leaning back in the passenger seat as you mentally prepared yourself for the scene your arrival at the precinct was about to cause.

When you got there, you immediately spotted the police chief ripping the lead detective, Charlie, a new one outside the front door. He saw you and did a double take, “And what the hell do you think you’re doing here?”

“Sir, we’re members of the BAU, our-“ Luke started explaining, obviously confused at the chief’s combative nature.

He held up a hand, “I wasn’t talking to you, agent.” Turning to face you, “You don’t show your face at home, leaving in the middle of the night ten years ago and now you’re what? A big bad FBI agent?”

You stiffened, pushing your shoulders back as you faced him. Stand tall, stay strong. “It wasn’t the middle of the night, and the FBI is only big and bad to the people who deserve it, Frank.”

The man in front of you scoffed, “I’m talking to your supervisor, you’re not working on this case.” He pushes past you, causing you to stumble back against the wall.

“What was that about? Who was that guy?” Luke asked, looking at you as you got your bearings back before walking into the precinct.

Bowing your head, you grumbled, “You just met my father.” At that moment, you were glad to be facing away from him, because you weren’t sure you could face any of it.

You’re still the newest member of the BAU, technically being a profiler but Emily pulled you in to help with public communications, since the old unit chief had been handling it along with Garcia, Emily did the same. When Spencer went to prison, she found she needed extra help, so you were snagged from your cozy office in sex crimes and sent to the BAU.

You fit in well with everyone, and you never really felt the need to prove yourself. Even taking the initiative to write letters to Spencer, because you didn’t want to be a stranger to him when he came back. So, when you met face-to-face last year, he thanked you. When you kissed him eight months ago, you both agreed to move slowly.

Seven months ago, he showed up at your door and told you he loved you.

Emily gave you an understanding look when she saw you walk into the police station, she, of course, knew everything about your situation.

“We don’t have enough for any sort of geographic profile yet,” Spencer said, standing in front of a whiteboard with a map over it, along with pictures of the two victims. He turned as soon as he saw you, smiling in a silent greeting. You winked in response, sitting down in the office chair next to him.

Luke stood in front of you, blocking your view of the whiteboard, “What do you mean that was your father? Why wouldn’t you say that your dad was the chief of police here?”

You shrugged, leaning back in the chair, “I may share DNA with the man, but I haven’t seen Frank Burris since I was twenty years old.”

“Doesn’t that bother you? Did she tell you?” Luke asked Spencer, who was still looking at the whiteboard, entirely unbothered.

“What did you find at the crime scene?” Emily asked, effectively ending Luke’s questioning. You had no idea if she had heard any of the previous conversation, but either way, you were grateful for the change in subject.

Taking a deep breath, you turned and faced her, “The dump sites are all places that are former symbols of the town, maybe the unsub wants to further desecrate these locations.” Emily nodded, prompting you to continue. “These kills are angry, the overkill and sexual assault definitely lean toward a male offender, I think the unsub is angry,” you said.

“Angry that his town is no longer what it once was,” Spencer suggested, taking his eyes off the whiteboard. “Are there any other locations that could fit that general description?”

Shaking your head, you crossed your arms over your chest, “Probably, I haven’t been here in ten years, it might help to talk to a local. Charlie could probably help.”

“Charlie can’t help with anything; the chief took him off the case. It belongs to me now,” a voice behind you said. Immediately, you straightened up in your chair, earning a strange look from Spencer. “Y/N, I’m looking forward to working with you,” the male voice said.

Swallowing thickly, you turned and faced him, “I wish I could say the same, Johnny.” You stood up, needing as much ground as you could get. “Do you know any places that would fit the description? Somewhere that used to be a symbol in the down, but is abandoned now?”

“The school burnt down about eight days ago, but you’d know that if you gave a damn about us,” he said indignantly, looking down at you.

You felt Spencer stand behind you, “do you have some kind of problem?”

Johnny eyed your boyfriend and you hoped he didn’t catch on to your relationship, “If I’m being totally honest, I’m not completely comfortable working with Y/N.”

“Our team was called in to help solve these murders and Agent Y/L/N is a part of that team,” Emily defended you. “If you have a problem, I suggest you suck it up until this case is solved.”

Angrily, Johnny stalked off. You turned around and grabbed a file off of the desk, glancing over at Emily and silently thanking her.

help me hold on to you

Later in your shared hotel room, Spencer looked at you curiously, “Was he an ex-boyfriend?”

You rolled your eyes and laid back on the bed, it wasn’t the worst bed you’ve slept in since joining the BAU, but it certainly wasn’t going to be winning any awards any time soon. “Don’t be jealous, Spence, it’s unbecoming," you deflected.

Spencer climbed on top of the bed and kissed your forehead, “I’m not jealous, I’m concerned.”

That made your heart clench, you sat up in the bed and cupped his face with your hands, “You don’t need to worry about me, okay?” You studied his face, the small crease in his forehead that told you he was overthinking the situation made you sigh. Gently, you leaned forward and placed a tender kiss on his forehead. “If I think you need to be concerned, I’ll tell you,” you whispered, allowing him to gather you in his arms.

“Okay, angel,” he whispered back.

You sighed and laid back against the pillows, “I have a bad feeling about this case,” you told him softly. Spencer doesn’t believe in intuition the way you do, but he’d never discredit your feelings.

He reached over and swept your hair behind your ear, “Me too.”

Pulling away from him, you looked at him curiously, “Why?”

He shrugged, “Both of them look like you. You’re the same age as them.” The victims, he was saying the victims were too similar to you for his own comfort. You hadn’t really given it much thought. If you start comparing yourself to the victims, you’d freeze up. That was a luxury you couldn’t afford.

“I’m not going anywhere, Spencer,” you comforted, curling up next to him.

i've been the archer, i've been the prey

The call came at five in the morning, only four hours after you had gone to sleep. Splitting up into two SUVs, half of you went to the precinct while the other half of you went to the crime scene.

“Katherine Meadows was dumped in front of the school,” Emily said, leading you, Tara, and Rossi into the precinct. You were still pulling your blazer on over your tank top, having been given approximately five minutes between waking up and getting out the door.

You stopped in your tracks; your mouth went dry. You knew of the other victims, but you were friends with Katherine. She helped you pay for your plane ticket out of here. You owed her your life, and now you’d never be able to repay her.

“What kind of school is it? Elementary? High school?” Rossi asked, flipping through a file that had been left on a desk.

Snapping out of your daze, you shook your head, “It’s K-12 all in the same building, that’s why it’s such a big deal that it’s gone.” You looked at the whiteboard, there weren’t any pictures of Katherine up yet, but you could imagine it. She looked more like you than the other victims, and you silently cursed Spencer for putting those thoughts in your head.

“Agent Y/L/N,” you heard Johnny call from behind you, he and your father were charging toward you at an alarming pace. “Are you armed?”

Your head snapped up, “yes,” you answered, putting your hand on your holstered weapon, watching as Johnny and Frank pulled their guns out.

“Please hand over your firearm to Detective Klein and put your hands up,” Frank commanded.

Taking a deep breath, you handed the weapon over to Johnny, facing him directly. It gave you tunnel vision, and you couldn’t even hear the protests of your team as you raised your hands level with your head.

Johnny grabbed your wrists, and you hissed as he cuffed you, the metal cutting into your skin when he made the handcuffs too tight. “Y/N Y/L/N, you’re under arrest for the murders of Victoria Reynolds, Melanie Baylor, and Katherine Meadows. You have the right to remain silent. Anything you say can and will be held against you in a court of law.” He shoved you in the direction of the interrogation room, “You have the right to an attorney. If you cannot afford an attorney, one will be appointed for you.”

An officer opened the door, and he pushed you down into a metal chair, hooking your handcuffs to the table in front of you.He continued reading your rights, “If you decide to answer questions without an attorney present, you will still have the right to cease answering at any time until you are able to talk to an attorney.” Johnny said, crossing his arms in front of his chest, “Do you understand your rights?”

You glared up at him, “What the hell are you doing, Johnny?”

He slammed a palm on the table, “Do you understand your rights?”

Pursing your lips, you looked away and peered right at the glass window ahead of you, “Yes, I understand my rights.”

“With these rights in mind, do you wish to speak to me?” He asked, leaning far too close to you, you could smell the cigarette smoke on his uniform. That smell was on you for years after you left, you were convinced you’d never be able to fully wash it off. Maybe you hadn’t.

You seethed up at him, “fuck no.”

Johnny nodded assuredly, opening the door to the interrogation room, and slamming it shut.

Taking a deep breath, you tried to pull the handcuffs away from where it was pinching your skin, you winced when it tore your skin. You set your head down on the cold table and sigh, knowing you should’ve taken Emily’s offer to stay behind when you had the chance.

Another officer came in later and told you they wanted your jacket and shoes for evidence, you didn’t fight them, numbly watching as he unlocked the handcuffs and took your jacket before putting the cuffs back on, just as tight. You kicked off your shoes for the officer and sat back down. Before he left, another officer came in and dropped an evidence box on the table.

It was an FBI scare tactic to leave an empty evidence box on an interrogation room table, but your box wasn’t empty.

They wanted to humiliate you in front of your team, and it was working.

all the king's horses, all the kings men, couldn't put me together again

The next people to open the door were Charlie and Tara, they sat down across from you. “I’m really sorry about all of this Y/N,” he muttered to you, pulling some files out of the evidence box.

You shrugged and shook your head, “Nothing Johnathan Klein does to me anymore really surprises me.” You looked at the files.

Charlie was hesitant to open the files, “there’s some rough stuff in here if you’re okay with going over some of it with us.”

Swallowing thickly, you looked at the file, “I don’t really have a ton of choice, do I?”

You hated both of them for pitying you, but more than anything you hated your father and Johnny for doing this to you and wasting time while there was a serial killer on the loose. He opened the file and placed pictures of the three victims in front of you.

For a couple of minutes, he asked general questions. Do you know them? How did you know them?

Then Tara finally asked a question, “Y/N, how old were you when your mother died?” She asked you, placing a photo of you and your mom in front of you. You were probably seven in the picture.

“Ten,” you answered, looking at the picture. You wondered if you could keep it once this was all over.

“When you were ten, you started a string of hospital visits that lasted until you were twenty years old. Broken ribs, concussions, fractures, and… a miscarriage,” Tara said, your eyes snapped up to look at her.

Your mouth went dry “You had Garcia unseal my files?” You couldn’t help the hurt in your voice.

The way Tara looked at you, you could tell she understood you in a whole new light now, “we had to. She felt horrible doing it.” That you didn’t doubt, the whole team had a mostly unspoken rule on inter-team profiling. You nodded understandingly.

“Y/N, do you have an alibi for the murders? We already cleared up that you weren’t working, but can anyone account for your whereabouts?” Charlie asked impatiently, he knew you didn’t do this, and it might not be his case anymore, but you could still tell he wanted it solved.

Looking directly at Tara, you answered the question, “No, I wasn’t with anyone.”

Your coworker set her jaw as Charlie got up and left.

“How did you get those injuries, Y/N?” Tara continued her line of questioning, setting a packet of medical records in front of you. You were still cuffed, so all you could do was touch the papers with your fingertips.

The paper read of chromosomes and a D&C, you couldn’t help the tears that flooded your eyes, “I- uh. I don’t want to look at that, please.”

Quickly, Tara pulled the papers away, “who hurt you?”

You bit your lip to stifle a cry, “Tara, please.” You knew what was going on, the only person who knew everything was retaliating against the precinct. They humiliated you, so she was going to humiliate them. She repeated the question and this time you answered, “My father.”

“Was your father also the father of your baby?” She asked, looking down at the papers. Honestly, she looked just about as uncomfortable as you were.

Solemnly, you shook your head, “That was Johnny. We were together from when I was fifteen until I was twenty. My dad-“ Your voice broke off, “Frank never touched me like that.”

“Can you tell me more about Frank?” She asked softly, the way she spoke to victims. The one thing you had tried to avoid.

Blearily, you looked up at your friend, “Can we take a break?”

Nodding, Tara stood up. When she opened the door, you heard shouting. People asking if your cuffs could be taken off. You just let your tears fall for a moment. Charlie came back and unlocked your cuffs, looking at the dried blood on them and the still bleeding wounds on your wrists, “I- I think we have a first aid kit somewhere.”

You brushed him off, waiting for him to leave and for Tara to come back. She did, draping a sweater over the table, and you tentatively grabbed it. Sighing when you recognized it as Spencer’s, “Has everyone seen the paperwork?”

She nodded slowly, “are you alright to talk to me about Frank now?”

You used your newly freed hands to wipe under your eyes before pulling the cardigan on. “It was my mom, she took everything he threw at her to protect me,” you whispered. “He hit me when I was ten, I had gotten a bad grade in social studies. So, my mom and I planned to leave, but he figured it out,” you said, furrowing your brows at the memory. “He strangled her, and she died. He told everyone she hung herself. The whole town believed him because he was the chief of police.”

Tara wrote something down, “he killed her in front of you?”

You nodded, “He needed someone else to take his aggression out on after that, so he beat me.” You told her, fiddling with the hem of Spencer’s sweater. “So, when I was fifteen and I met a boy, I thought I had found the answers to all of my problems, but I really had just discovered more.”

“The boy was Johnathan Klein?”

Affirming her question again, you continued your story, “he was a horny fifteen-year-old boy, and he had sex with me even when I begged him not to. He told me he had to because he loved me, and I believed him.”

Tara leaned over and looked you in the eyes, “You know that wasn’t your fault.”

“Wasn’t it?” You asked meekly, tilting your head to the side. “He proposed to me the day we graduated from high school. I had already accepted the fact that I was never getting out of the town, but what I didn’t know was by getting engaged to him I was very nearly signing my own death certificate.” You took a deep breath and tried to ignore the ache in your chest, “I found out I was pregnant when I was nineteen, and looking back at it now, I’m surprised it didn’t happen sooner.”

Tara didn’t speak, she just listened. You supposed that was the psychologist in her, letting you take the lead in your own story.

You furrowed your brows as you tried to bring memories that you had spent so long burying to the surface. “I knew I couldn’t make my baby go through the same thing I went through, so I tried to run, but I didn’t get far. He found me, he beat me, he brought me to the hospital, and he told me I killed our baby.” You could see the story was bothering Tara. When you told Emily, you told her in pieces over the span of a month. “The only people I was allowed to see after that were my dad, Johnny, and Katherine.” You wiped tears from your face, “the judge wouldn’t grant me a restraining order, my only option was to run. So, when Kath showed up with a plane ticket and an envelope of cash, I took the opportunity and left.”

“Y/N, do you think these murders could be somehow connected to your upbringing here?” Tara asked, flipping through another file.

You looked back at the glass that separates the observation room, having no idea who was on the other side listening. “I didn’t until Reid said the victims looked like me,” you confessed. It felt too convenient, victims looking like you, you being framed for their murders. Yet, you still made sure not to call Spencer by his first name, afraid of giving yourself away. “Do they have any evidence?”

“They found soil from the factory crime scene on your shoes, but your jacket is still being processed. Without an alibi, we can’t get them to release you,” Tara said.

Rolling your eyes, you leaned back in the chair, “Of course, they found soil from the factory crime scene on my shoes, I was at the scene yesterday.”

The door opened and Frank stepped inside, “Your alibi spoke up.” He sounded irritated, but not as irritated as he’s going to be once the BAU is through with him.

i see right through me

Spencer had settled you down on a desk in the corner of the precinct, disinfecting the cuts on your wrists made by Johnny’s handcuffs. “I’m sorry,” you whispered, watching as he cleaned the debris from your torn skin.

He didn’t respond, he just shook his head. You could tell he was thinking, as clearly as if you could see gears physically turning in his head.

“Spence, I’m sorry I didn’t tell you,” you whispered, bending your neck to try to catch his eyes.

He shook his head again, “I’m not upset, not with you at least.”

You raised your eyebrows in suspicion, “Then stop getting so lost in thought. What’s bothering you?”

He clasped both of your hands in his own, setting them in your lap, “Does it feel like a coincidence to you that the same night Johnny told us about the school the woman who helped you escape an abusive relationship was found dead at that school?” Spencer dropped your hands, reaching into the first aid kit and pulling out bandages before gingerly wrapping your wrists. At work, you tried to keep the public displays to a minimum, but you felt like these were extenuating circumstances, which was why you had secluded yourselves in the corner.

“I need to look at the crime scene photos again,” you said, trying to get off of the desk.

Spencer firmly placed both of his hands on your hips, effectively keeping you in place. “Once I’m done,” he whispered, securing the bandages on your wrists. “Are you alright?”

You tilted your head up at him and smiled sadly, “Everyone learned a lot about me today. Some of it I had never intended on telling them. I just feel… exposed? Raw?” You searched desperately for the right word to use to describe exactly how you feel.

Hanging your head low, your eyes traced patterns in the carpet when Spencer hooked a finger gently under your chin and lifted your head, so you were looking at him. His honey-colored eyes searched your face, and you felt like he was looking right through you. “You know nothing that happened today makes any of us see you differently, right? I don’t think of you as any less of a person because of what I learned today.”

You shook your head, “You don’t learn those things about your girlfriend and look at her the same.”

“You’re right. I don’t look at you the same, I’m even more in awe of you now than I was before. The fact that you’ve been through what you’ve been through and you’re this bright, shiny person sitting in front of me is astounding, but…” His voice trailed off.

Here it was, he couldn’t want who you were. He didn’t want the heavy history that comes with you. You shut your eyes.

He cupped your face with his hands, “it makes me worry that maybe I haven’t been there for you enough. Not in the same way you’re there for me.”

“Spence,” you whispered, swallowing back your emotions, and looking up at him.

Spencer shook his head, “I love you, and I have to make sure that you know that I’m always going to be there when you need me.”

Nodding rapidly, you stood up and wrapped your arms around him, “I know.” Your voice was little more than a rasp, “I know, I love you too.”

After assuring Emily and Tara that your friendship was intact, you turned to the team. “I think I play a bigger part in this case than I realize.”

“We were just coming to a similar conclusion, once we saw what Katherine Meadows looked like, it just confirmed our suspicions,” JJ said, looking at the whiteboard, which now had Kath’s picture on it, as well as yours. “The whole town seems to have it out for you, though. How do we narrow down the suspect pool?”

You stepped up to the whiteboard, “Because it’s not about the locations and their relation to the town, it’s about the locations and their relation to me.” You pointed to the factory, “When I was fifteen, this was the first place Johnny ever assaulted me.”

“You said he proposed to you at your high school graduation, right?” Tara said, “That’s the connection to the school.”

Nodding, you continued, “And we were going to get married at the church.”

Spencer wrote this all down on the whiteboard as you fit the pieces of this puzzle together. “Is there anywhere else that would fit in with these other locations?”

Flipping through a file, you set papers down on the desk in front of your team. “That’s our house, it was set on fire not long after I left,” you pointed out. “That’s where he’s going next.”

“But who will his victim be? If we can get to her before he can, then we can stop him before he gets to her,” Matt mentioned.

Slowly, you turned around and faced your team, “I don’t intend on letting anyone else get hurt. This is between me and Johnny.”

who could stay?

You sat yourself down at the dining room table. Nothing in the house had been moved, its charred remains were left defenseless against Mother Nature. You knew this table, there was blood ground into the wood grain. It was your blood.

You wished they had torn the rest of the structure down.

Spencer didn’t like the idea of you going alone, but you were armed, and you had an earpiece in. You weren’t alone, the team was nearby in case things went wrong.

“Incoming, blue pick-up pulling into the driveway,” Luke said through the radio. “Suspect’s getting out, it doesn’t look like anyone’s with him.”

Realistically, you knew nothing was going to happen to you, but there was some small voice in the back of your head that told you something was going to go awry.

You wiped your sweaty palms on the floral-patterned chair. Part of you was grateful that the team had enough faith in you to send you to get a confession on your own, but another part of you wished someone would’ve asked you if this is really what you want to do. Sure, you wanted Johnathan Klein to be put away for a long time, but you didn’t want to be in this house. When you left, you had hoped you’d never have to set foot in this godforsaken town ever again.

Sitting up straight, the front door opened. You’re not sure why he opens the door when there’s a hole in the wall leading right to you. “I thought you might come looking for me,” he said, placing a hand on your shoulder. “I always knew you’d come back to me, baby,” Johnny spoke to you in a low voice, but you knew the team could hear.

“I didn’t come here for you, Johnny,” you whispered, keeping your voice steady. “I came for the girls who were murdered. I knew them, we both did,” you told him. That was the truth, you felt like you owed them because they died while you got to live.

He sat next to you, placing a hand on your knee. It was all you could do to not flinch away from him. “Then why did you bring that guy? If not to make me jealous, then why?”

“Johnny, if I go with you, will it stop?” You asked, turning to him, reaching out your hand, and placing it on his arm.

Humming, he reached out and brushed your hair behind your ear, luckily not the side where you had your earbud in. “I don’t know what you mean, babe. You’ll have to spell it out for me,” he said, pulling you to your feet abruptly. You didn’t see the knife when he first walked in, you didn’t even know he had it until it was to your throat.

But you weren’t twenty years old anymore. You had grown up. You had learned self-defense.

So, you caught him off guard when you hit him, causing the knife to clatter to the ground. “You bitch!” He growled, “I’ll fucking kill you!”

“You won’t kill me,” you said, planting your feet on the ground. “You had five years to kill me, Johnny.”

He stood up, “No, but I killed a part of you. Didn’t I? When I killed your baby?”

After all these years, he knew how to get under your skin. He got one hit off, across your cheek, the strike so hard that your earbud went flying across the room. “You killed the part of me that you created, that’s not who I am. I recreated myself, a version of myself without this godforsaken town.”

“But I got you here, back home. I killed all those girls for you to come back to me,” he said, running straight at you.

You hit him with your gun, you physically struck him with the butt of the gun. You could’ve shot him, it would’ve been clean, but you didn’t. That would’ve been easy for him. He dropped like a ragdoll and the rest of your team came rushing in. Someone was calling your name, but you couldn’t hear.

Matt ended up being the one who cuffed him, you slowly walked away from them. Backing yourself into a wall, you watched it all happen.

When you left your hometown, you never quite felt like it was over. He was always still going to be around. But this? This felt final.

It made your chest ache.

Gently, Spencer took your hand and led you outside. “It’s done?”

He nodded rapidly, “It’s over, angel. Emily and Luke are at the precinct taking Frank into custody. They’ll both go away for a long time.”

“Spence, I want to go home,” you whispered, looking down the road and seeing houses that you recognize from your childhood. This whole town was filled with your own ghosts. “Can we go home?”

Spencer didn't answer, he just pulled you into him and held you tightly. You let him inspect the wound on your cheek before you went back to the hotel and put everyone’s belongings in an SUV.

On the jet, the two of you sequestered yourselves in the back where it’s darker. He offered to let you lie down, so you rested your head in his lap. He used one hand to hold his book and the other to smooth your hair back. Your eyes were shut, but you were vaguely aware of the rest of the team as they took turns peeking back at the both of you.

you could stay

please remember to like, reblog, and comment

#written by margot #spencer reid #spencer reid x reader #criminal minds #criminal minds fanfiction #spencer reid fanfic #criminal minds fanfic #spencer reid fanfiction #spencer reid angst #spencer reid hurt/comfort #spencer reid x you #spencer reid oneshot #spencer reid imagine #criminal minds angst #criminal minds hurt/comfort #spencer reid x fem!reader #criminal minds fic #spencer reid fic #criminal minds imagine

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sillyuin · 3 months ago

Text

The ghost of you. (Part 1).

-------------------

Genre: angst.

Pairing: Mingyu x reader.

Warnings: Break up.

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You disappeared like a faint ghost.

Mingyu had started to forget you and that scared him.

Every day he woke up in the room where you used to share happy and sad moments. There was no longer the sound of your voice wishing him a good day, giving him a kiss before getting out of bed.

Your small office was empty, there were no longer any camera lenses on the shelf, memory cards on the desk, nor a bunch of candy wrappers in the trash, and the curtains were always closed.

He walked the same streets you used to walk together, hoping to see your back or catch the scent of the floral perfume he liked so much, but the days went by, and there wasn't a trace of you.

From time to time, Mingyu would sit on the couch with the phone in hand, his hesitant finger unable to press your name on the screen. He had already sent several messages, but none received a response, and none of his calls were answered.

One night he entered your office, opened the curtains and from there he saw the starry sky, the view was simply bright and majestic. "That's why you liked being here so much," he said to himself, taking a seat in the desk chair. "You had front row seats... And I never came to join you..."

Until now, he hadn't had the courage to check the desk drawers, and that night he decided to do it; you had taken almost everything except for a memory card at the bottom of the last drawer. With much curiosity and fear, he inserted it into his laptop to see what was inside.

As he went through the stored photos, Mingyu felt a mix of happiness and nostalgia that turned into a silent sob. The album was full of pictures of the two of you, from outings and parties, random sessions in gardens or inside the apartment. He found it hard to believe how distant those happy moments felt compared to the reality he was living now.

Setting the laptop aside, he lay down on the couch and rested his head where you used to sit. "I miss you," he closed his eyes, burying his face in one of the cushions. "Where have you gone?"

The sun was setting and the wind started to blow gently. You were heading home while thinking about what you were going to make for dinner, and without realizing it you took a different path. It wasn't a loss since it was a very pretty street with some interesting shops; however, there was a place you had paid little attention to until that day.

"There was an art exhibit, and I didn't know," you lamented to yourself. You were in the front door of a small gallery and outside it, there was a sign with information about the presentation. After reading everything, you glanced down at your wristwatch. "One hour remain… That’s enough for me."

There weren't many people left except for a few older gentlemen, and some students that probably were heading home from school. The place was spacious, with beautiful paintings exhibited on the walls. Some were well-crafted and others were quite simple, but all had their own charm. There were also a few sculptures, and you took the opportunity to photograph some that seemed quite creative to you.

You moved on to another room and there was a rather curious painting: three small canvases side by side, the background was white, and a red ribbon crossed them by the middle. You stood for a few seconds appreciating it in silence, then looked down at a plaque with some words.

"The Red Thread of Fate," you read softly, "...", but you couldn’t say the artist’s name.

"You know the legend, don't you?" said a voice from behind and as you slowly turned, he was staring there. After so much time avoiding him, Mingyu ended up finding you in the most unexpected way possible, or so you thought. "Hi, y/n," he pressed his lips together a bit and crossed his arms. "I hadn't seen you, have you been here long?"

"No, I just arrived," you turned to one side, trying to locate the exit. "But I was just leaving, so..."

"Wait!" His voice made you stop suddenly. "Sorry, do you have a few minutes?"

You didn't want to, you didn't feel like being there another second nor talking to him, but you took a step towards to face him, although your fidgety hands said otherwise. "What do you want?"

"I..." Mingyu sighed. "I just want to listen to you, that's all."

"Now you want to listen to me?"

"No, wait, I can explain..."

"Explain what?"

Your severe tone made him remain silent, as if he were afraid that by saying something, you would leave without turning around. The atmosphere was tense, very tense, and the fact that no one dared to peek into the room only made him even more nervous. Still, he made it to say something.

"Nothing I said that day was true," Mingyu confessed, his voice quite confidence. "I hurt you deeply, and I'm sorry for everything, you didn’t deserve that."

"You left me alone," you stammered. "You said horrible things and then left. Do you know how long I waited for you to come home?"

"I know it was a long time, I..."

"Until dawn," you interrupted, taking another step closer. "I ran away and took a bus at 3 am, because you never came."

"Honestly, I-I don't know what was going through..."

"Are you going to listen to me or not?"

Mingyu shrugged, tortured by all the words held at the tip of his tongue. He took a deep breath and nodded nervously.

"You left me alone," you repeated, your voice sounding fragile as if it might break at any moment. "I asked for your help many times, I told you I was very nervous about leaving my job, and when I decided to quit, you didn't support me."

"I was scared, okay? I was… Scared."

"I was the one who quit a stable job to pursue my dream of photography... But you were the one who was scared?" You looked away for a moment to calm yourself down, although that didn't help much. "I don't understand, what were you scared of!? Tell me!"

Mingyu was downcast, and after a few seconds of no responding, he murmured. "I thought you would go far away..."

" There are many jobs, but only one Kim Mingyu." As you said it, he raised his gaze to meet yours, thick tears were stuck at the corner of your eyes. "I wanted to live my dream by your side… And I still want to."

In the silence of the room, the only thing heard was Mingyu's faint voice apologizing repeatedly. Then you approached him and gently took his face in your hands, kissing his cheeks again and again despite the tears that ran down them.

You approached him and gently took his face in your hands, kissing his cheeks again and again. His tears were honest and very painful, almost as much as yours, but it didn't matter. All you wanted to do was hold him like you used to, before becoming a memory lost in the pictures.

#seventeen #seventeen x reader #seventeen fanfic #seventeen angst #seventeen x y/n #seventeen x you #svt #svt x reader #svt fanfic #svt angst #svt x y/n #svt x you #kim mingyu #mingyu #mingyu angst #mingyu x reader #mingyu x you #mingyu x y/n #svt mingyu

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the-case-book-of-fanfiction · 1 year ago

Text

Bob Seger

Ship: Steve Harrington x fem!reader

Summary: Is there a handbook for what to do when your crush walks into your store to buy a gift for his girlfriend? There should be!

Word Count: 5,432 words

Warnings: Stancy, Steve being deeply in love and then getting his heart broken, brief mention of Steve's asshole dad, pining reader, hurt/comfort, Tommy & Carol, language, innuendo

Note: Inspired in part by Steve's rendition of Old Time Rock & Roll.

☟ Continue below the fold ☟

Nancy hadn't been herself, not since Barb disappeared, and her mood had only been getting worse every day. Steve could feel her retreating into herself, hiding from the world and from herself and from him. He could feel Tommy and Carol getting progressively more frustrated with her (and with him for putting up with it) with every passing day.

And it's not like Steve blamed Nancy. Her best friend had gone missing while Nancy hung out with people Barb wasn't the biggest fan of. And, to rub salt in an open wound, Nancy had been having sex with Steve while Barb disappeared.

Steve felt a little guilty, to say the least. He'd had the thought of If I hadn't wanted to sleep with Nancy so bad, she would have gone home with Barb and they'd both be safe. But after a while, he wasn't so sure about that. The longer he thought about it, the more he became convinced that if Nancy had gone with Barb, they both would have gone missing.

Whether it was through his own guilt or because he wanted to make Nancy feel better, he wasn't quite sure, Steve found himself driving to the record store just off Main Street after school got out. He'd blocked out the noise of Tommy and Carol bickering, Tommy in the passenger seat and Carol leaning forward from the back seat, too busy trying to remember which bands had played from the radio the night he was studying at Nancy's house, and whether or not Nancy had actually liked them. He didn't want to screw up his little surprise by getting her music she wouldn't listen to—or a vinyl she already owned. Maybe he should have discreetly snooped through her pile of records before he'd made up his mind to do this...

Tommy sharply elbowed Steve in the ribs. Before Steve could snap at him, he said, "You're overthinking this, man. She's either gonna pretend to love it and not actually care, or she's just gonna not care."

Behind them, Carol giggled. It sounded far more sinister than it should have.

Steve glared at him for a second before he made the turn into the store's parking lot. "You're no help, you realize that?" He parked the car and turned to the two of them. "You're gonna stay here and wait, got it? And don't do anything stupid, I'll make you clean the back seat this time."

Carol grinned. "What if it's the passenger seat?"

"Or the driver's," Tommy added, leaning back to kiss Carol, before Steve could snap that the passenger's seat was Nancy's seat. Steve felt his throat constrict.

"Do not get it on in my fucking car," he warned, "or I'm never driving you anywhere ever again."

He got out, slamming the door behind him, and sent a warning glare back over his shoulder. Tommy flipped him off through the windshield. Beside Steve, an elderly woman gasped in offense and Steve winced.

"Sorry about him," he muttered, but the woman was already scurrying off into her own vehicle. Steve sighed and pushed open the front door to the record shop.

A little bell above the door chimed once as he swung the door open, and then again as it closed behind him. Steve had only been in the store a handful of times, but he loved it more and more with every visit. The walls were plastered in old vinyls, displayed so that the name of each band was readable. No vinyl was the same color, some of them blue, some red, some multicolor, but all of them were different. A small gold plaque designated the oldest vinyl the store had on the walls, which was a reddish Vocalion from 1922 and was positioned directly above the door.

Rows and rows of alphabetized vinyls spread throughout the store, which was bigger than it looked from the storefront. In the lefthand corner nearest the door, a cashier's desk was set up, though there was no employee behind it. A plastic sign read I'm in the back! I'll be back soon!

Steve headed for the aisles of vinyls, then recognized what was playing over the speakers—Bob Seger's Night Moves.

Humming as he flipped through the stacks, Steve didn't notice the door to the back open, or you walk out of it and back to your desk.

"Mmm, sweet summertime, summertime," Steve sang, keeping his voice low, still embarrassed by his voice, an instinct his father made sure he would never shake.

But you heard it, even with the volume of the radio. You looked up from the desk, gaze scanning the rows. You spotted the back of Steve's head and recognized him immediately. That hair was unmistakable.

Heat burned in your belly. Suddenly, you really wished your coworker hadn't gone home just ten minutes earlier, complaining of nausea. If she'd just stuck around a few more minutes...you wouldn't have to face your long-time crush who was absolutely not available, happily dating Nancy Wheeler and unlikely to leave her any time soon.

You resisted the urge to hide your face in your hands. Sure, you'd liked him since middle school, long before he'd become part of the popular crowd and back when his hair was still a mess that hid his eyes from the world, and yes, you had two classes with him, but it's not like he'd know who you were, right? You'd keep relative anonymity and he would remain none the wiser of your long-standing admiration of him.

But then the song changed to The Fire Down Below and Steve was shimmying where he stood, singing the line "Here comes hot Nancy, she's steppin' right on time" with the hugest grin on his face.

You sighed. The school, your best friends, the entire senior year was right—Steve Harrington was down bad for Nancy Wheeler.

The tiniest bit of hope that he might one day notice you was dashed every time you heard that loving croon of his voice every time he sang Nancy's name.

This is why we don't get our hopes up, you told yourself, echoing a sentiment your best friend had drilled into you ever since Steve became the ladies' man that made him so popular in high school. Not that it erased the previous middle school years of drooling over Steve, back before anyone else had really considered him attractive.

You watched as Steve meticulously went through every record in the store, clearly searching for something specific. You normally would have gotten up and approached a customer taking this long, but it was Steve. You knew the instant you got up from your stool, your legs would give out underneath you. And if that didn't happen, you'd walk into a shelf on your way over to him. And if that didn't happen either, you'd start stuttering the moment you tried to talk to him. And if that didn't happen, you'd turn bright red and combust on the spot when he either asked for your help or turned you away.

Too stuck in your head, you didn't even realize the record had stopped playing until you heard Steve's singing stop. A pang went through you at the sound of silence—Steve's voice was almost more soothing than the music itself.

You turned around and dug through your pile of vinyls the store let you play until you found another Bob Seger—the album he'd released last year. Steve had been singing Bob Seger, and you desperately wanted him to keep singing.

You cleaned off the record before placing the needle down. A few bars into Even Now, you turned back around and squeaked, jumping in surprise.

Steve was standing at your desk, a pleasant but awkward smile on his face.

"Uh...hi," he said. "Sorry if I scared you."

You blinked at him and cleared your throat, hoping your voice didn't come out squeaky. "It's...it's fine. Can I help you with something?"

"Uh, please, I'm looking for—" He snapped his fingers. "You're in my chemistry class, aren't you?" You nodded, meekly adding that you were also in English together, and he beamed. "I knew I recognized you from somewhere!"

"Yeah, uh... Hi, Steve," you said. "You said you were looking for...?"

Steve shook himself out. "Oh, yeah, um... I'm trying to find a record for Nancy, my girlfriend, because I want to cheer her up after...everything. I'm sure you've heard about it."

The tiredness in his voice surprised you. But you nodded without bringing it up. "I have. How's she holding up?"

Steve sighed. "Not...fantastically. That's why I'm doing this, I want to get her something to take her mind off things."

You raised your brows. "So you decided on a record?"

Steve shrugged, his cheeks turning a soft shade of pink. "I thought it would be something we could dance to, and that that might make her feel better."

Your heart squeezed. How are you so sweet? "Alright, makes sense. What does she like to listen to usually?"

Steve shut his eyes as if thinking for a moment, then said, "She likes ABBA and Michael Jackson, she has a Fleetwood Mac tape but only ever listens to Rhiannon, but she sings under her breath every time Journey comes on the radio, doesn't matter what song it is. She's got Madonna, Bowie, Blondie, and The Beatles already as tapes and vinyls, so I don't want to get her those."

You blinked at him. "You really do pay attention to everything, don't you?"

Steve smiled shyly. "I...I guess so, when it comes to Nancy."

You left the back of the desk, hoping you weren't visibly shaking too much. "Let's go find you a Journey vinyl, okay? They just released a new album a few months ago, I'm pretty sure we've got it on vinyl..."

Steve followed you to the J section and the two of you started flipping through, both of you softly singing along to Love's The Last To Know as you did.

Halfway through the song and completely through the Js section, you interrupted the song with a gasp.

"I know where it is! Wait here," you told him, and hurried into the back room. You dug through the most recently delivered box of records until you saw the familiar blue album cover of Frontiers, letting out a victory cry as you grabbed it.

Steve was leaning on the shelf, still singing "We lost our way and our love's the last to know" so mournfully you wondered what heartbreak he'd been through before.

"I got it!" you said, grinning and holding the record aloft.

Steve beamed. "Thanks! I really appreciate it. I know I was kind of...out of my depth for a bit there."

You shrugged. "Eh, that's nothing. I've had people come in here demanding records we don't carry from bands that only just released music." You rolled your eyes. "'No, sir, we don't carry Metallica, and even if we did, the album came out last week, so we wouldn't have it yet anyway!'"

Steve snorted with laughter, handing you cash to pay for the vinyl. "Let me guess, it was the Munson kid."

"The Munson kid," you confirmed.

"Thanks again," Steve said, though he didn't seem inclined to head out the door.

"Any time," you said, instantly regretting the words because if you saw Steve at your workplace more than this, you were going to have a heart attack, but you paired the words with a kind smile anyway.

"See you in class tomorrow," he said, stepping out the door and waving goodbye. You watched him go, putting the record in the back seat, snapping at Tommy and Carol in his car, and pulling out of the parking lot.

You let go a tense, nervous breath. The pain in your chest eased. Well, at least Steve knew of you now. And even if his dedication to Nancy was unfailing, at least you might get to talk to him now, even if it only worsened the ache in your heart.

~❊~

Steve skipped third block.

The entire school seemed to be talking about why—or at least, his entire gym class, who had told a story about Billy Hargrove getting in his face the entire basketball game, and then Nancy dragging him out of the class to "talk" about something. At first, everyone had assumed they were banging in the locker rooms, until somebody reminded them Nancy hadn't been in first block, and she never skipped, and that Steve usually drove her to school—but he hadn't missed first block. Then when he'd come back, upset and angry, from his talk with Nancy, people started to put a story together.

You weren't sure you wanted to believe the story, or the many versions of the story, that were floating around you chemistry class. It didn't line up with what you knew of Steve, or what you knew of his relationship with Nancy, most of which you heard straight from him.

But then again...

You shook yourself out of your head, your gaze straying back toward Steve's empty seat. You sighed, pulling your notebook toward you and copying down the notes on the board as neat as you could—undoubtedly you'd need to give them to Steve when he decided to come back to class.

But when your best friend came into the class, handing your teacher a doctor's note, her wide eyes already told you Steve wasn't coming back today.

She sat down beside you, hissing your name. You looked at her. "What? What's wrong?"

"Is there a reason I just saw Steve Harrington crying in his car?" she whispered to you.

Your eyes went huge. Whatever had happened between him and Nancy, it wasn't good. "Keep your voice down and don't tell anyone else about that," you said.

She flipped her notebook to a blank page and started writing. "You better fill me in on everything I missed today," she said.

"Obviously, but only once I know exactly what happened," you said. "Which means only once Steve tells me what happened. However long that takes."

~❊~

It became painfully clear that Steve didn't want to talk—to anyone. He snapped at anyone who tried to bring it up with him, and his mood was waspish. The situation was made worse by the rumors spread by Tommy and Carol—that Nancy had only been with Steve for his money and the sex; that she left because Steve wasn't good enough for her; that she was cheating on him with Jonathan.

You knew that the jibes about Jonathan hit Steve a little too close to home. The same rumor had circulated last year when Will and Barb went missing, but this time, you were almost positive they were true.

Nancy was entirely unbothered by the whole thing. Seeing her prance around with Jonathan, not caring that doing so was hurting Steve more than anything, made your blood boil.

On your way to the record store for another one of your slow closing shifts, a week after Steve skipped chem class, you saw the two of them walking together along the sidewalk. You rolled your eyes at them. You had once thought Nancy to be the luckiest girl in the world: smart, pretty, and dating the hottest man Hawkins had to offer. Now you were certain she was the most careless, throwing it all away for a mediocre man.

Steve's car was in the store's parking lot when you arrived. You parked next to him, looking over to find him in the driver's seat, staring into his lap.

You got out and knocked on his window. "Steve? You okay?" He looked up, sporting red-rimmed eyes. You could hear Bob Seger's Comin' Home playing quietly on his radio. "Oh, Steve..."

Steve got out of his car. Voice quiet and rough, he asked, "Can I hang out for a while?"

"Yeah," you said. "Whatever you need."

His lip trembled. "A...a hug?" His voice as meek and barely there. But you heard it and the request made your heart break. You enveloped him in a tight hug, letting him soften into your hold. You remained that way until Steve decided he was done, not caring how many of your classmates walked by, staring in wonder at Steve clinging to you, new gossip already burning on their tongues.

~❊~

A good day meant boppier music at the record store as soon as you started your shift and shoved your coworker from the mid-afternoon shift out the door. So you swapped out all the mellow music in the stack of records beside your record player with music with a good beat that you could dance to while you restocked and reshelved.

Not even half an hour into your shift, the Naked Eyes record spun into Always Something There To Remind Me. You turned up the volume as high as you could without destroying the speakers and being chewed out by your managers, singing along and dancing by yourself while you worked.

"Well, how can I forget you, girl? When there is always something there to remind me!" You finished stacking your records in the aisle and turned back for a new pile. "Always something there to remind me. I was born to love her, and I'll never be free, you'll always be a part of— Steve!" You careened into his chest, grateful you weren't holding anything, because it all would have dropped to the floor. Steve's arms looped around you, stopping you from falling. "Don't sneak up on me, you scared me!"

"The doorbell rung!"

"Well, I didn't hear it!" You finally looked up at him, heart beating wildly out of your chest at the feeling of his chest against yours, his arms around your waist. You realized he looked downright miserable. "What happened?"

He sighed. "Remember how I said I was gonna try and patch things up with Nance?"

"Yeah..."

Steve's lower lip started to tremble. "It...it didn't go well."

Your heart dropped to your feet. "Oh, Steve, I'm...I'm so sorry."

He sniffled. "It's, uh, it's over. She...she doesn't love me, has never loved me, I'm still bullshit, and she's been sleeping with Jonathan. So..." He heaved a heavy sigh. "It's over. Completely, totally, officially over."

"Steve," you whispered. "I'm so sorry, honey. Is there anything I can do?"

He smiled, lips trembling and eyes watering. "Change the song?" The words came out with a little hiccup and a laugh.

You realized what the song was about. "Oh! Yeah, sure, right—sorry. It's such an upbeat song in the actual music, I didn't even think about the words!" You untangled yourself from his arms to change the record. "What are you in the mood for?"

"Nothing romantic, please," he said, sitting down on your stool. "And, after you're done..."

You looked at him, sensing his hesitation. "Yeah?"

"Can I have another hug?"

You smiled at him, looping your arms around his back where he sat. He fell into you, burying his head in your shirt. "Of course, Steve."

You held onto Steve as tightly as he held onto you, praying he wouldn't notice the fast beat of your heart while he wallowed in his grief. It was a strange feeling, for Steve to be hiding from the world, form Nancy, from his broken heart in your arms, all while you harbored a horribly deep crush on him and a secret, guilty delight that it was over with Nancy.

"I just..." Steve huffed, clearly trying his best not to sob into your shirt. "I don't know where I went wrong. I don't know why I wasn't good enough."

Without really meaning to, you put your hand in Steve's hair. "Does there need to be a reason? Some people just aren't meant for each other, Steve."

Steve looked up at you with his red rimmed eyes, tears on his lash line. He hesitated a moment and then said, "If I tell you something...promise me you won't just...laugh at me."

Your heart broke for him. How many times had he told Tommy or Carol or, what the hell, even Nancy something, only to be laughed at, for him to ask that of you? "Of course I won't laugh at you, Steve." You squeezed his shoulder. "Why would I laugh at you?"

He didn't answer your question. "I know it sounds...ridiculous, but...I just—" He sighed. "I thought Nancy was the one. I've never been happier with a girl before, and she was honest, she was smart, she was determined, she had goals, she was nothing like the girls I was with before, and she made me feel alive! I thought for sure that I was... That I was maybe gonna spend the rest of my life with her."

You bit your lip. "There was no maybe about it, was there, Steve?"

He sighed, letting his head fall back into you. You muffled your grunt as he hid his face in your stomach, his arms sliding up your back and hold you closer to him. "No," he mumbled into the fabric of your shirt.

You smoothed your hand through his perfect hair and kissed the top of his head. You froze, hearing his tiny intake of breath. "Oh, I'm...I'm sorry, that was kind of...automatic, I guess?"

Steve peeked up at you and tugged you closer to his body until your feet hit the legs of your stool he was perched on. "It's okay. Um... Can you...keep doing that? With my hair?" Pink tinged his skin. "If you don't mind."

"I don't mind," you whispered, rubbing your fingers across his scalp. He sighed, pushing into your touch. Heat bloomed across your body.

"Sorry," he whispered. "I know this is...weird. But, um, Nancy never... Never really touched me or— Or held me or anything, so..."

"You don't have to explain yourself," you whispered. "Not to me, not to anyone. Okay?"

"Okay," he agreed, slowly relaxing in your arms.

"I've got you, Steve," you assured him. "I've got you."

~❊~

Before he'd even pulled into the parking lot, Steve was mentally apologizing to you. You'd told him time and time again when he visited you while you were working that you enjoyed your slow closing shifts. It meant there was no one to bother you while you were in the middle of a restock, making you forget where you were; it meant there was no one to complain about the music you played, so you could listen to whatever you wanted; it meant your final hour was spent just closing up shop instead of shooing customers out the door—except for Steve, who had become a regular and always stayed until you left, sometimes to give you a ride home and other times just to have a friend around.

But today, he wasn't coming alone. His car was full to bursting with young children: Dustin, Max, Lucas, Mike, and Will, all of whom he'd been tasked with picking up from their after school activities for the day. He had tried to get them to go home quickly, but his attempts to rush them out of his car had led them to discover that he was seeing a girl, which they all took the wrong way, of course.

Sort of.

Now that Steve was prowling the world alone again, he'd realized his initial estimation of you—pretty, smiley, shy with new people but confident with your friends—was right, but it was a muted reality compared to how you really were. It was like he'd been looking at you with sunglasses covering his eyes this whole time. Now that those glasses were gone, the record shop girl had become more than just his best friend.

And he was really hoping the kids were not about to point that out.

As per usual, you were playing Bob Seger when Steve pushed the door open. He'd yet to figure out if you played Bob Seger so much when he came to visit because you loved Bob Seger, or if you had (correctly) pinned Steve as a fan.

(Not that Steve had ever told anyone he was a fan; he let them think the only reason he even knew about his music was because of Carol's obsession with Risky Business.)

You weren't at your desk like Steve had expected; you were carrying a huge stack of records in your arms, shelving them as you walked along the rows, singing along to Sunspot Baby without a care in the world.

"Sunspot baby," you sang. "She sure had a real good time."

"I looked in Miami, I looked in Negril," Steve joined in. You turned with a grin, heading back to your desk. "The closest I came was a month old bill."

You noticed the kids as you put down your stack. "You brought company today, I see."

Steve gave you a look while the kids were still behind him. You stifled a giggle. "Uh, yeah, these are the kids. Dustin Henderson, Lucas Sinclair, Max Mayfield, Will Byers, and Mike Wheeler."

Dustin walked straight up to your desk. "So you're the girl Steve talks about all the time?"

"All the time, huh?" you said, smiling in a way that suggested you were sure Dustin was exaggerating.

"Every time we see him," Mike groaned. You stared at the younger Wheeler in surprise.

"Oh, really? Is that so, Steve?" you teased.

He rolled his eyes, unable to stop his blush. "Sorry to interrupt your quiet shift. They wanted to stop in and grab some records."

"No we didn't—we just wanted to meet you," Lucas said. Steve's calm expression became painfully forced.

The young redhead snorted. "Speak for yourself." She looked up at you expectantly. "Do you have any David Bowie?"

You grinned. "I like you, you have good taste. Back side of the first row."

Max grinned and dragged Lucas with her.

You looked back at Steve. "Do you have enough room in your car for one more?"

"Need a ride when you leave?"

You nodded.

"Yeah, I've got room. I'll just make the kids rearrange."

You laughed. "You don't have to do that," you insisted.

Steve leaned across the counter. "Don't worry about it—I want to. I'd feel terrible if I left you to get home on your own."

You smiled at him, noticing Dustin nudging Mike and Will and pointing in your direction out of the corner of your eye.

~❊~

Somehow, the kids' presence lightened up the rest of your shift. Time passed quickly with them there, adventuring through the store and asking you question after question about the vinyls lining the walls.

You waved off Steve as he tried to get the kids to leave you alone. "They're fine, Steve. It's okay. You wanna help me get everything packed up? I've gotta lock up soon."

"Oh, yeah, sure." Steve took the vinyl off the record player and slipped it back into its case. He glanced over his shoulder and called to the kids, "Hey, guys! We're gonna head out soon."

You ran through your closing tasks as quickly as you could, anxious to head home for the night.

"Alright, everybody out. Got everything?" you asked, ushering the kids to the door and taking out the key. You set the alarm system for the building and locked the door behind you.

Steve put a hand on your back. Warmth bloomed through you from where he touched you. "You're all ready to go?"

You nodded, not trusting yourself to speak.

The kids opened the doors of Steve's car, jumping in quickly. Dustin made his way to the passenger's seat. Steve stopped him, gently shoving him toward the back seat with everyone else.

"Hey—move it, Henderson, she's got the passenger's seat."

You stared at Steve. "No, no, it's okay, he can—"

Steve shook his head, holding open the door for you. "Come on, it's fine, just..." He gestured into the car. The kids whispered and giggled at him. He sent them a glare and Dustin's annoyed face shifted into a gleeful smirk.

You got in the front seat, unaware of the glances being exchanged in the back or the glare Steve was giving them.

"Seat belts!" Steve said as he got into the driver's seat. You giggled at him as the kids groaned. You caught the way his face lit up when he looked at you, and butterflies tickled your insides.

Once the kids had listened and all were buckled, Steve pulled out of the parking lot and started his way through Hawkins, dropping them off one-by-one: Will first, on the outskirts of town, his mother waiting at the door; Max, who was relieved the Camaro wasn't in the driveway; Dustin next, his new cat sitting on the front step; Lucas, who was immediately met with his snarky young sister; Mike last, Nancy already at the door—saying goodbye to Jonathan.

You glanced at Steve. "You alright?"

Steve looked at you, releasing a deep sigh. "I'm okay," he said. "I...I'm doing better now."

"Good," you said. "You deserve it."

Steve gave you a curious look before he said, "Let's get you home, right?"

"Right."

And if Steve drove slower the whole way back to yours compared to driving the kids home, you weren't going to say anything.

When he got back to your house, Steve pulled into the driveway and sighed. "Well. Home sweet home," he said.

You looked at Steve with a smile. "Thanks for the ride home." You picked up the bag you had put on the ground. You got out, then stopped yourself before you could close the door. You crouched to look at him in the car. "Hey, Steve?"

"Yeah?" Was it just your imagination, or did he sound nervous?

You took a deep breath. Now or never.

"I talk about you all the time, too."

For a moment, Steve processed your words. Then his eyes went wide. Hope bloomed on his slack-jawed face. "You..." He bit his lip, holding back a smile. "You mean that you..."

"Yes, Steve," you said, voice quiet. "Always have. Just ask my friends—they'll give away my secrets just as quickly as Dustin gave away yours." You drummed your fingers against the roof of his car. "Do with that what you will. It's up to you if...you want to even acknowledge it or not." You closed his door and started for your front door.

A door squeaked and then slammed shut moments later; running steps approached you.

"Wait!"

You turned as Steve's hand fell on your shoulder, pulling you close to him. He yanked your body close to his, his arms sliding around you, his hands gripping your shoulder blades. For a split second, you reveled in his hug, noticing the difference in it, relishing in the love in his arms instead of the misery.

Those few seconds became nothing as Steve pulled back. You gave a sound of protest, quickly squashed by Steve's lips.

Your heart had stopped beating, but was simultaneously pounding. You moved on instinct, looping your arms around his shoulders, yanking him down to you. Never once did your lips part from his as the two of you grappled to hold each other in the best way possible.

Thunder boomed overhead. You gasped, pulling apart.

"Was it supposed to storm?" you asked.

"I didn't think so," Steve said.

You kissed him again. Steve smiled into the kiss.

"You should get home before it pours," you whispered against his lips. But neither of you made any move to let go of each other.

Steve adjusted so that his head was against yours, his mouth at your temple. "See you tomorrow in class, then?"

You hummed. "Yeah. Tomorrow."

Steve pressed a kiss to your forehead. "I don't wanna leave."

You looked up at the sky, watching the already-grey skies grow darker as storm clouds rolled in. "We're going to get soaked if we stay out here, Steve."

Steve squeezed you tightly. "Tomorrow, then." He kissed your forehead again. "I'll see you tomorrow...sweetheart."

You beamed at the nickname while Steve blushed while he gave you the moniker.

"And to think," you whispered. "You'd known me all this time, but this? This happened all because you stopped in my store one day."

Steve hugged you tight to his chest. "I wish I'd noticed you before, sweetheart, really I do."

You kissed him. "Well, you've noticed me now." Light rain started, dusting Steve's hair until it sparkled. "Now go, before that pretty hair of yours gets ruined."

He grinned, brushing his hand through it. "I knew you liked my hair."

"Always have." You pressed a gentle kiss to his lips. "Always will."

☞ ❊ ☜

Stranger Things // Steve Harrington

part 2? lmk!

Taglist: {comment and let me know if you'd like to be added to the S.H. taglist!} @ohatropa@nix-rose@live-the-fangirl-life

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perseus-jackass · 4 months ago

Note

Do you think Dick's hallucination ever mocked him for not remembering Jason's face? That for all he claims to mourn him he couldn't even tell you what Jason really looked like? Why else would the hallucination be faceless shadows, nothing identifying but the suit he died in. And Dick is so distressed he doesn't even argue, he can't. He's backed into a corner, unable to think past begging Jason to forgive him.

Desperately, Dick goes back to Gotham. All the way to the manor. He doesn't call, he doesn't even wait for Alfred to answer the door, he just beelines to the first hallway he can find, the walls filled with as many memories as they could squeeze out of Jason's three years with them.

The walls are bare. Bruce can't bring himself to remember the reality. Maybe if Dick had gone through the cave he would have noticed the new addition, a monument to something Jason never was. He'll blame Bruce for it, and he'll never know that it was Alfred that lovingly carved that plaque. Alfred who sealed the remains of Jason's suit behind glass. Alfred who collected the pictures Bruce shoved in a box, and arranged them neatly in his own room. Dick will assume that Bruce, somehow, brought himself to throw them away, and Alfred will never tell him otherwise.

HOW IS THAT NOT YOUR REVENGE?? I’m going to get you, that’s so evil.

You’re so right though. I think he goes back to his apartment and has a breakdown. Donna is the one that finds him a few days later. She asks around, and it turns out Eddie has a few that Jason sent him. He makes copies of them, and most of the titans have at least one.

He was their little brother too after all. They loved him.

#jason todd #dick grayson #batman comics #dc comics

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hrefna-the-raven · 1 year ago

Text

The devil you do

Masterlist - BG3 masterlist

Part 1 - Part 2 - Part 3

Words: 1818

Summary: you might indeed do the devil ;-)

Warnings: smut (18+)

Your group finally made it to Baldur's Gate and you were glad that everyone decided to split up and get their things done, at least for one day. The constant looks and questions about Raphael started to annoy you, especially since you still had idea what to tell them. It wasn't as if you could just confess that you felt a certain pull towards the devil, they would never understand it, not even Wyll.

As you aimlessly roamed the streets on your way to Wyrm's Rock, a sudden impulse compelled you to ascend the stairs adjacent to Sharess Caress. The reason behind this mysterious inclination remained unknown, but deep within you, a stirring sensation emerged, as if an unseen power had taken control of your body, guiding your every move. Eventually, your footsteps halted before a door, and your gaze instinctively fell upon the plaque adorning it. A smile gradually spread across your face as you absorbed the words etched into it: Devil's Den. Without hesitation, your hand reached for the doorknob, only to be surprised by the door swinging open, revealing Raphael in his human form. His characteristic smug grin adorned his countenance as he warmly invited you inside.

"I see my little mouse caught her cat's sent", he playfully remarked, motioning for you to enter.

The chamber was softly illuminated by an array of scarlet and ebony candles, creating an intimate and romantic ambiance. Your eyes wandered towards a table positioned in the centre of the room. It was adorned with a crimson cloth and adorned with an assortment of delicacies from various corners of Faerûn. However, you couldn't help but observe that a majority of the dishes were precisely the ones you would consider your personal favourites. A smile crept across your face, realising that he had gone to great lengths to make everything seem perfect for you.

"I can tell that someone has put a lot of thought into the decorations and food choices. Although I was still waiting for a response about whether you would accept the deal or not, I have to ask, what is the reason behind all this?", you cautiously chuckled, unable to hide the surprise in your eyes as your hand gestured around the room.

"Oh, my dear, don't be so taken aback", Raphael chuckled, "there is no reason why we couldn't discuss our little deal over a delicious meal", He firmly held onto the back of the chair, pushing it slightly forward as you sat down, before leaning closer, whispering in your ear, "the devil is, after all, in the detail."

"Before we delve into this conversation," you reached out and took hold of his hand as he passed by, "may I request a favour?"

"That would depend on the nature of the favour."

"I would like to have this discussion with the devil I know, not the human guise you wear."

Raphael's smile widened and with a snap of his fingers, his human form ignited in flames, transforming into his hellish form as he tenderly kissed your hand.

"That can be arranged."

Raphael settled into a chair on the opposite side of the table, his majestic wings neatly folded alongside him. His head embellished by four black horns, his burning orange eyes and sharp claws added to his imposing presence. Despite his seated position and a well-groomed appearance, his infernal nature still exuded an impressive and slightly intimidating aura. The two of you sat in silence for a while, enjoying each other's company, savouring the exquisite meal and fine wine. It was a moment of tranquillity before the inevitable truth threatened to tarnish the connection you shared.

Internally conflicted, the devil grappled with the decision he had made. By choosing to embrace the truth this time, he risked everything. Yet, he had agreed to the deal and sealed it with a kiss, leaving no room for retreat, not even for a smug hellish bastard than him. All his schemes, deceptions, manipulations and the meticulously planned coincidences, it would all cease to exist in a moment. If he had misinterpreted the signs even slightly, he stood to lose more than just his carefully crafted plan; he stood to lose you. However, you were oblivious to his inner turmoil, unable to hide your own nervousness. Perhaps you dreaded the revelation of the absolute truth for entirely different reasons.

"It's time for your end of the bargain", you finished your glass of wine and set it on the table, your gaze lingering on the devil.

"Indeed it is", he sighed, "you intrigue me, little mouse, one might say that I've grown quite fond of you, you know, in my own way."

You observed a subtle fracture in his usual confident facade, his wings twitching momentarily as he uttered the final words, so softly that it almost resembled a mere murmur.

"Quite too fond, actually", the devil rose from his seat and cautiously approached you, while gesturing around with his usual theatrics, "you know who and what I am, you know the rules of hell so I won't say this twice as just this once might already get me into more trouble then you're worth it", His hand gently clasped yours, his other hand delicately tracing its claws along your skin, "from the moment I laid eyes on you, I sensed something special. There was an undeniable connection between us, intertwining my... heart with..."

Raphael shut his eyes, exhaling a trembling breath, unable to complete his sentence despite the deal the two of you had.

"Mine", you whispered tenderly, placing his hand against your chest, "I felt it too."

You pulled him closer, leaning in, your mouths colliding in a fervent embrace.

"The chase ends now", you breathed heavily as you broke the kiss,attempting to distance yourself, but Raphael held you firmly.

"And what does that mean to you?", he inquired, a trace of unease lingering in his voice.

"That the cat has caught the mouse and will finally devour it", you replied, your fingertips trailing up his arm before gently caressing his cheek.

Raphael clasped his fingers around your wrists, guiding your arms away which drew you closer to him, his face drawing near as his tongue cautiously grazed your lower lip, prompting a shameless whimper from you.

"I will devour you over and over again, my little mouse, until you scream my name so loud for all the nine hells to hear it."

He effortlessly lifted you, gracefully carrying you into the other room, where he gently set you down on the bed. As soon as your butt made contact with the plush mattress, your clothes vanished into thin air leaving you both naked. When you glanced upwards, your eyes met the gaze of a demon brimming with insatiable desire, accompanied by a mischievous smirk. You could hardly formulate a clever remark before sensing his firm grasp on your legs, parting them and drawing you closer to the edge of the bed. He lowered himself onto his knees and trailed his tongue over your wet folds. The sensation was scorching, surpassing the warmth of a typical human tongue. The contrast in temperature heightened your arousal, causing you to release a passionate moan.

"Finally mine", he groaned inbetween licks.

His pace quickened relentlessly, you took hold of his horns, pushing his face further against you in a desperate attempt to gain more of that intoxicating pleasure. He let out a low chuckle against your wetness, eagerly sucking at your clit, coaxing even more of those delightful sounds of pleasure from your lips.

"Raphael, I-"'

He immediately retreated, pushing you away as he crawled over you.

"Oh no, my little mouse, we're going to do this together," he smirked.

"Together? Indeed", you mused, "but the cat won't be in charge this time."

Enchantment coursed through your veins and with a burst of energy, you flung him off of you and trapped him in a seated position at the edge of the bed. Slowly, teasingly, you moved closer to him, planting kisses and nibbles on his inner thigh before dragging your tongue along his length, provokingly slow. A deep groan rumbled dangerously in the devil's chest, his breath growing heavier as you straddled him, your hands intertwining in his hair.

"No one has ever dared this before", Raphael hissed, trying to disrupt the spell you had cast over him until he felt you positioning his cock at your dripping entrance.

"Well devil, let me be your first then", you grinned mischievously and slid down on him, moaning loudly. Raphael's head tilted backwards, his mouth agape, revealing his pointed fangs, yet no utterance escaped his lips, completely devoid of all control. He would never confess it, but the sensation of helplessness in your presence was exhilarating, stirring a profound excitement within him. Your name slipped from his tongue like a sacred invocation, a testament to his longing and desire. Your concentration wavered with each movement, plunging into the pleasure of the devil filling you up completely, hitting that sweet spot over and over again, inevitably resulting in your spell weakening. As soon as Raphael noticed this, one of his hands found its way to your hips, his claws gently digging into your soft flesh, guiding your movements to urge you to go faster and you were more than willing to oblige. Your lips clashed on his, his feral growls muffled by a passionate kiss as the both of you neared the brink of climax dangerously fast and your hands settled on Raphael's chest, feeling his excillerated heartbeat, surrendering completely to the ecstasy and you both finally came undone at the same time. Your walls clenched around his cock and your felt his hot seed filling you up.

Raphael lifted you up, slowly making his way up the bed. He positioned you on top of him, wrapping his wings protectively around you as he placed a gentle kiss on your forehead. You couldn't help but giggle at his unexpected tenderness, lovingly cupping his cheek. "Well, well, who would have imagined that a devil could be so sweet?" you playfully remarked, planting a quick kiss on his neck. "Mhm," Raphael mumbled, "if you dare to share this with anyone, I might just have to punish you."

"Punish me, huh?", you responded daringly as you rubbed your teasingly against his cock which earned you a deep groan from him.

"Are you sure you're not a devil, my little temptress?", the cambion chuckled, his arms around you tightening.

"It takes one to know one", you replied, feigning an innocent and sweet tone in your voice.

Resting your head on his chest, you listened to the soothing rhythm of his calm heartbeat. The warmth of his skin enveloped you, lulling your exhausted self into a peaceful slumber. It had been a long time since you had felt such tranquillity and security. If someone had told you that you would find all of this in the arms of a devil, you would have laughed and called them insane.

#baldur's gate 3 #bg3 #raphael #raphael baldur's gate 3 #raphael bg3 #raphael x reader #raphael x you #hidden feelings #raphael is a sexy devil #confessions #the truth #smut #raphael smut

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dem-obscure-imagines · 5 months ago

Text

I Know the End | Vol. 1

Poe Dameron x Reader

Fandom: Star Wars

Summary: You were one of the Rebellion’s greatest weapons in the Galactic Civil War, a Princess from a distant planet, a Jedi with wings. Now, you’ve found yourself in a new world, a new war, your old friends long gone.

When Poe Dameron was sent on a wild goose chase of a reconnaissance mission four systems out, he never expected to find the key to his heart…

Note: At long last, here it is. Thank you for your patience. I love you all. I honestly wrote this as a long-winded attempt to make Poe Dameron’s dumbest line “Somehow, Palpatine returned” into a gut-wrenching and emotional moment and it got way out of hand. I am no Star Wars expert, but I did a lot of research for this and consider myself waaaaaaay more of a SW nerd now than I was a mere two months ago. Could probably write a dissertation on it at this point (I say as I literally churned out a novel). It is my first time writing for the fandom, though, so, here goes nothing. I did make up a fair bit of stuff and a good handful of OCs for this. Let me know what you think!

I will also be uploading this to my Ao3 soon for easier navigation <3 If you see it there, don't panic.

Warnings: Canon-typical violence, lightsaber and blaster wounds, alcohol consumption, war and the implications of it, gets a little steamy but no smut, reader has nightmares, misuse of the Force, Rewriting the Rise of Skywalker a lil bit…

Word Count: 82.7k total (Split into four approximately 20k chunks)

Reader Is: 24, a Jedi, a Princess, has butterfly wings

Vol 1. | Vol 2. | Vol 3. | Vol 4.

Prologue

Poe’s rain-soaked curls stuck to his forehead as he moved through the alleyway, steps brisk, shoulders straight. Poe Dameron, Commander of the infamous Resistance, and one of Leia’s best spies, which was why he was in a shady alleyway on a planet four systems out.

It had taken him a week of investigation, asking hard questions, chasing cold trails, translating outdated plaques and inscriptions, but finally, he had something real.

He checked the location on the holo again, then looked back up at the metal door in front of him, hesitating before knocking. Eventually, it slid open, and he stepped through, a hand on his blaster.

“Hello?” He called into the seemingly empty pawn shop. “I’m looking for Rhugo. I’m a friend of–”

“You’re Leia’s boy. The Commander.” The pawnbroker parted curtains in the doorway behind the counter, a long cigar poking out of his mouth, fingers long and green-tinted. “Got your message. Wait just a second.”

Poe watched as he reached on the counter, fingers still hovering above his blaster. If there was one thing he’d learned from his time with the Resistance, it was that almost no one could be trusted, to never let his guard down. But instead of a blaster, Rhugo pulled out a small wooden box and slid it across the glass counter. He motioned for Poe to open it.

He stepped forward, gently lifting the hinged lid. Inside, cradled in a bed of velvet, was a golden pendant, palm-sized, a shimmering pink and purple gem embedded in the metal. He stared at it for a long time, mesmerized. It didn’t seem to be a power source, but it had an energy to it he couldn’t quite place. Something powerful. Something all but forgotten.

“What is it?”

“You’ll have to ask your General that, I’m afraid. I’ve been looking for it for her for years. Hasn’t been easy to come by. The very last of its kind, it seems.”

“How much do I owe you?” Poe reached for his pockets.

Rhugo shook his head, batting a hand at the pilot. “Win the war, we can negotiate after.”

Poe grinned. “Thanks. That’s the plan.”

***

When Poe arrived back on the base, pendant in his pocket, the General was waiting for him, an expectant look on her face. He handed her the box, watching as she opened it, waiting for some hint as to what it was, why she had sent him so far to get it.

She stared at it for a long time, exhaling a sigh. Her eyes sparkled with tears. “You have no idea what you’ve just brought me.”

“What…is it?”

“This…this is our spark, Poe. The spark that will reignite the Resistance.” She touched it with gentle fingers, lingering on the cool metal. “This is hope.”

The Princess, the Jedi

You could hear the music from downstairs, all the way up in your chambers. The Mariposan palace was aglow with celebration, as it had often been since the fall of the Empire. The Battle of Endor had been only two years prior and since then, a great sense of peace had settled over the galaxy.

“You’re still doing your hair?” Leia laughed, striding into the room, draped in a long green gown.

“I can’t get it to sit right.” You laughed, redoing the braid nestled into your hair for what felt like the twelfth time.

“Just use The Force to do it.” Han teased, leaning in the doorway, Luke just behind him, wearing that gentle smile that so often accompanied him when he was looking at you.

“That’s not how The Force works.” You chuckled, Leia settling on the padded bench beside you.

She pulled out the braid and redid it with her expert fingers, quick and agile. It was no wonder hers always looked so good.

“You look great, Princess.” Luke complimented, finally getting a good look at you.

“You clean up nice yourself, Skywalker.” You shot back, meeting his eyes in the mirror.

“There. You’re all done.” Leia walked over to Han.

You gave yourself a once-over and then stood, walking into the center of your spacious bedroom. By some miracle, your home planet, Mariposas, had been untouched by the Empire. And you, as the planet’s princess, did have some pretty nice quarters if you did say so yourself. It definitely beat the tiny, scrappy Rebel bases you’d spent so long in, although they definitely had their charm, too.

“We good up here? The king was wondering when his daughter was finally going to come down to the party.” Lando looked around with a grin. He met your eyes and let out a whistle. “Wow, Princess. You look great.”

“Ha. Thanks.” You replied, glancing at your saber before deciding to clip it to your belt. You and Luke were the only Jedi left. People expected you to have it on you, especially at events like this, where you were not only representing your home planet, but also the Rebellion as a whole. It was an anniversary of sorts, two years of peace across the galaxy.

“If I may?” Luke offered his arm.

“Always.” You slipped yours through his, smiling when he leaned in to press a kiss to your cheek.

He escorted you through the halls, down the staircase and into the banquet hall, where the party was in full swing. Your parents, the king and queen, mingled with guests from neighboring planets and systems.

Your older brother, Maddox, the first born and heir to the throne, was greeting guests as well, chest puffed, shoulders proud. Your little sister, Laesynda, though you called her Laecy, ran with the other kids. She was only ten, now. Still full of innocence, eyes glimmering with youth and more hope than you could imagine. With the war over, she had a bright, bright future ahead of her.

“You’re nervous.” Luke noted, voice soft. “Your wings are tense.”

You forced them to relax, pushing down that feeling. But since you had become a beacon of hope, it was hard to live with the pressure of it. Of all the eyes in the room flicking to you the second you entered a room. It had always been like that more or less. You were a princess after all, but it was decidedly worse now.

“I’m trying not to be.” You admitted, wings fluttering behind you like a cape. They were large, but folded neatly out of the way most of the time, their hue fading from a sunset orange at their base, through a gentle pink, to a regal lavender at their edges, shimmering the way all Mariposan wings did.

The ballroom itself was alive in every sense. The walls carved from wood, windows cradled in root-like veins along the walls. Flowers cascaded from the ceiling, orbs of light floating through the air like specks of pollen in the spring.

You stopped walking once you reached your parents, greeting each with a smile and a warm hug.

“Glad you finally joined us, (Y/N).” Your father said, that knowing glimmer in his eyes. “They’ve been asking about you.”

“Oh I’m sure they have been.” You looked at your mother, at the way she’d done her hair, the warm shade of red painted across her lips. “You look beautiful, mother.”

“I was going to say the same about you.” She ran a hand down your cheek. “Try to have fun tonight.”

You chuckled, memories of your Rebellion days flashing in your mind. “I’m good at that part.”

Luke took your arm again, walking towards the dance floor. You stole a moment away while you could, enjoying a few songs together before finally settling at a table. You could hardly sit down between guests introducing themselves to you and Luke, greeting you with those expectant eyes.

Even from across the room, you could feel your brother’s gaze, burning a hole through your forehead. He’d always been jealous, but the attention you got now was enough to crush him, you were sure. During the war, he’d remained painfully neutral, ready to jump ship to whichever side won. You, instead, aligned yourself with the Rebels at the first opportunity, abandoning your royal duties to help the cause however you could. And you were beloved for it.

Eventually, you got the opportunity to sit down. Han slid you a tall glass of Mariposan mead, which you took a few long sips from. You needed it.

“So, what now?” Lando asked, looking at Luke. “Have you figured out your grand plan yet, Master Skywalker?”

“Just about.” He smiled, reaching for your hand, which you gladly took. “We’re going to start up the Jedi Order again. Find the budding Jedi out there, train them up. Complete Leia’s training.”

“Bring back balance to the Force.” You said, warmth in your chest blossoming when you said it. It made sense. Always had. You and him, together, starting something great. It felt right.

“You’ll need more sabers.” Leia noted.

“You still need to build yours, Leia.” You reminded her.

She smiled. “I’m ready whenever you are.”

“Soon.” Luke promised. “We’ll have to get our hands on some more kyber crystals.”

“Joyride in the Falcon?” Han offered.

“If you and Chewie have any room in that busy schedule of yours.”

He winked. “I’m sure we could squeeze you in. Chewie loves you.”

“I’m rather fond of that Wookie myself.” You grinned, taking another long sip of mead. You looked around the table at your friends. These people you had risked everything with, these people who loved you. Your family in all meanings of the word. And now that the galaxy had settled, you had the opportunity to start fresh, build something new with them, wherever your lives took you.

Leia had already been talking about weddings.

And though you weren’t sure you were ready for that, you would gladly stand in hers, give a riveting speech about her love story with Han, their daring adventures together that always led them straight to each other.

Luke gave your hand a squeeze, those soulful blue eyes gazing into yours, flecks of green swimming in them. He brought your hand to his lips, pressing a tender kiss there. It seemed only inevitable from the moment that you met that the two of you would wind up together, and there you were, still side by side after all that time.

***

Hours later, the party began to dwindle, guests retreating to their ships or their lodging for the night. The lights dimmed and stars began to peek out beyond the sprawling stained glass windows. Han and Leia swayed on the dance floor. Lando and Chewie hovered at the bar, and you and Luke retreated back up the stairs for a quiet night after a few final goodbyes.

You’d both drifted off quickly, you quicker than Luke, pulled deep into dreams and memories that flashed in your mind. Murmurs of a voice.

“Maker, I’m so glad we found you…”

His lips captured yours again, breathing into it. They wandered, down your cheek, past your jaw, down to your neck again. You laced your fingers through his curls, the burn of his stubble against your skin–shocked you back awake.

Whoever that had been was not Luke Skywalker. And whoever they were, this was not the first time you’d dreamt of them, either. By this point, their lips were familiar. Their scent. Fresh Rain. Sandalwood. Leather. Ship Fuel.

You jolted awake, staring at the ceiling, Luke’s body splayed out on the mattress beside you. His breathing was slow, face towards the window. He turned, eyes opening ever so slightly.

“Nightmare?” He asked, creeping closer. An arm hooked around your waist, lips pressing against your cheek, then your lips.

“Something like that.” You said, but you knew he could feel otherwise. You were connected like that. He always seemed to know what you were feeling.

“You alright?”

You nodded. “I’m fine.”

“Good.” He smiled, nose pressed against yours.

Something in you melted at the look in those eyes. Maker, he loved you so much. You could feel it radiating off of him. And you loved him, too. Your space boy. Your thumb skimmed across his cheekbone as you pulled him in for another sleepy kiss, the sky still dark and spotted with stars.

You turned onto your other side and he slotted himself against you, arm fast around your waist, nose nuzzled against your skin as you fell back asleep, your love swirled with a healthy dose of guilt.

How the Jedi Die

Your eyes fluttered open again when the dawn was melting into the morning. Luke was already awake. You could feel it. But he was quiet, his movements careful, limbs still tucked against your own.

“Training awaits, Your Highness.”

“It always seems to.” You grinned, turning to kiss him before sitting up to start your day. You put on some robes, a solid beige, hints of brown. You had a few that were considered traditional. The rest of your wardrobe was more Mariposan in color scheme. That was, to say, lots of pinks and purples and blues, hints of green from time to time.

You chose your belts carefully, strapping your saber hilt on, slinging your bag over the other shoulder before lacing up your boots.

Luke pulled you in by the waist, both of his hands settling there as yours rose to his shoulders. What a dashing prince he would be, you thought fondly, a hand carding through his soft blond hair as you floated closer. You kissed him gently and he did not hesitate to kiss you back. He never did.

After a quick breakfast, the two of you walked out into the forests of Mariposas. Giant mushrooms marked forks in the paths, lush trees looming tall overhead. Flowers dotted every walkway with color, butterflies flitting from stalk to stalk.

There was a clearing up on the hill that you loved. It was the perfect spot for everything, sparring, meditating, whatever the day brought. You started with the first, taking your saber from your belt and activating it with a click, brilliant indigo light emerging from the end of it. It was one of a kind, your saber, the golden hilt made from your mother’s old bracelets, put together by your own hands with the help of Obi-Wan himself.

Your saber clashed against Luke’s as you moved through the motions, steps familiar. The Force guided you, the path clear as you took each leap and bound, up onto rocks, through the treetops, sabers swinging, clashing against each other, but never making contact with any of the branches. The two of you landed back in the clearing, indigo shimmering against green until he turned away, twirling out of range with grace and precision.

He held his saber extended, meeting your eyes with that smile of his. You both powered your sabers down, breathing heavy.

“That was a good move, the flip you did.” You complimented. “Almost had me there, for a second.”

“Thanks, I’ve been working on those. I liked that move with your wings.” He grinned. “You’re so much better when you use them to your advantage.”

“I’ve been working on that, too.” You chuckled. You’d barely used them growing up, modern technology nearly rendering them useless, but he was right. Mastering using them as a tool was something you needed to lean into. They were an advantage few others had, and they had served you well during the war.

After, you settled onto your favorite seats. Yours was a repurposed stump. One of the woodworkers down in the village had carved it into a stool of sorts, crystals embedded into the rounded edge.

You sat atop it, cross-legged, breaths long and even until the stool disappeared beneath you. You floated, hair cascading around you, robes jostled by the breeze. You cleared your mind, surrendering to the Force, to your path and wherever it took you.

To the Jedi.

At first, there was nothing. A long, dark expanse of comets and stars. Empty, but tingling.

And then you heard a voice.

“We didn’t cover much ground, actually. He was…hesitant to train me. Or anyone, really…”

She was far, that much was clear. A young woman, maybe a little bit younger than you by a few years, but she had a spark to her, that glow of rebellion across her features. Yellow flickering light danced across her cheeks, determination strong on her brows. And she had some training, apparently. You wouldn’t be working up from nothing. It was…reassuring.

You felt a wave of peace in the knowledge that you and Luke weren’t alone in this.

Slowly, you descended back down onto your stump, heart light with the knowledge that there was another Jedi. Not only that, but another woman with the Force.

You stared at Luke, still deep in his meditation. He looked so peaceful, eyes closed, breaths slow as he floated there midair.

Whirring and beeping sounded, closer and closer up the hill. You wondered how long it would be before they found you. The droids. First came R2, Luke’s beloved blue droid. Quickly behind him came your droid, a silver R4 unit with purple paneling and a dome top. They were beeping at each other, talking. Flirting.

“Artoo, you simply cannot say things like this in the presence of a princess!” Threepio scolded, following the two of them up the hill with his stiff movements. He met your eyes with his glowing, mechanical ones. “My apologies. I did not realize the two of you were up here.”

“That’s alright Threepio.” You chuckled. “We’re about done for the day. He’s finishing up.”

“Any leads?”

“I got one.”

“Oh how exciting! Before you know it, this place will be teeming with Jedi!” The droid congratulated you on your breakthrough and for a few moments, it was nice. Until Luke fell.

Your stomach sank and you walked over to him, sprawled in the dirt, looking up at you with a pained look in his eyes. You reached for his arm, but he withdrew, like your touch alone would burn him.

“Hey, it’s me. Talk to me.” You said, kneeling in the dirt in front of him.

The fear melted into something softer and he stared up at you, words budding on his tongue. He exhaled, hands shaking. “It’s bad.”

“What is?”

“There’s…” he shook his head. “Call the others. We don’t have time. R2, tell Han to warm up the Falcon.”

“Where are we going?”

“Pretty far from here.” Luke replied, standing as you did. He rested his hands on your arms, pressing a long kiss to your lips before saying, “go tell your family goodbye. Get ready for a fight. I’ll explain on the way.”

You gathered your things with haste, instructing your droid, who you lovingly called Radia due to her love of playing music over her audio processors, to get your family together so you could say goodbye to them.

Your parents asked where you were going, what was wrong and you didn’t have any answers for them, leaving them with the promises of your return.

“Not to worry, mother. She will spend her life saving the galaxy. The duties of a Jedi are never-ending.” Maddox parroted the words of Obi-Wan when he’d gone to get you to begin your training so many years before. Only you seemed to hear the malice in his tone.

“And after, can I braid your hair? I learned a new one.” Laesynda asked, eyes bright. You knelt down and pulled her into your arms.

You petted her head, exhaling a breath before pulling away to look at her little freckled face one last time. You poked her nose, earning a laugh. “Of course you can. I’ll be back before you even remember to miss me.”

***

It was with record speed that Luke was able to round up the team. You, Leia, Han, Chewie, Lando, and the droids all piled into the Falcon and headed out to a distant planet. Luke plugged the coordinates in at lightning speed, his fingers flying across the console before handing the controls off to Han, who gave that concerned, skeptical look he so often wore.

“You sure about this?”

“Positive.” Luke nodded. He took your hand and led you and the others to the booth around Chewie’s game table.

You searched his face. Usually, you could read him. This time, you could not. He was hiding it from you, shielding you from his thoughts, his feelings. “What is going on? Talk to me.”

“There’s a Sith cult. They’re trying to bring Palpatine back.” He whispered, eyes serious, locked on the checkers of the table between you. “They have a saber wielder. A woman. She…” He shook his head, tears glimmering in his eyes as he squeezed your hand. “We have to stop her.”

“We will.” You told him, but he didn’t seem convinced. Every time he looked at you, he was haunted. Whatever he had seen had been…bad.

You walked out to the cockpit and sat in the seat behind Chewie’s, watching the stars go by at lightspeed. It was kind of relaxing, always had been, like being in a fishtank.

“He’s in a mood, huh?” Han asked, glancing back at you.

“Something like that. Whatever he saw has him in a real funk.”

Chewie roared, reaching back towards you. You grabbed onto his fur-covered arm, giving it a grateful squeeze.

“Yeah, I’m sure he’s just stressed. We’ll get this figured out.”

Han reached forward, pulling the thruster back and stopping the flow of stars around you. The planet you found yourself on made it…easy to figure out the mood Luke was in. The planet was rocky, skies gloomy and overwhelmingly…red. Thunder crackled in the clouds, zaps of lightning zipping past. Something on the ship buckled, met with a shower of sparks.

“Woahhh!” You shielded your face.

“It’s fine, Your Highness, nothing to worry about.” Han shook off your concern. “She’s taken worse.”

“There. That cave there.” Luke instructed, peering into the cockpit. “Land on the south side. (Y/N) and I will go in first. We’ll need blaster support. The droids can keep the ship warm so we can get out of here as fast as we can.” He motioned to a volcano on the horizon, not yet erupted, but hot, heavy smoke billowing from its tower.

“I don’t like the look of that thing.” Lando murmured. “I’ve got a bad feeling about this…”

“That makes two of us.” Leia agreed, staring at it.

“That’s why they’re doing it now. No one else is going to come out here while it’s erupting. It’s now or never.” Luke said, turning towards the boarding ramp. You followed after him, walking out the ship as the ramp lowered.

He activated his Saber, green light clashing heavily with the red hue bleeding down from the sky. It was almost swallowed up by it, by the chaos and darkness. You lit yours beside him. They looked so right together. The green and indigo. Contrasting with each other.

You spun your saber and followed him into the shadows.

From within the cave, you heard chanting. As you emerged from the entryway, you could make out hooded cloaks. Dozens of them. Chills ran down your spine as you took in the sight of it. At the center of all of it, an altar with two halves of a body on it and a woman holding a glowing red lightsaber, its blade unstable.

“Insidia…” You whispered, her name finding your tongue just before her eyes met yours. She smiled at the sight of you and Luke.

“Just in time. Our sacrifices.” She said, face splitting into a grin, eyes glowing yellow. “Care to join us?”

“What you’re doing here will not stand, Insidia.” Luke said, voice even and cold. “We won’t allow you to raise him from the dead.”

“And you can’t stop us either.” She laughed, the other hooded figures joining in. “In fact, you are the missing piece in all of this. Your energy will give Lord Palpatine new life. Through your death, he will rise.”

“Not without a fight.” You told her, readying your saber in your grip, analyzing the figures gathered before you and praying to the Maker for luck. Luke pressed his back to yours, meeting your eyes one last time.

She laughed. “I was hoping you’d say that.”

The three of you launched into battle. Insidia unsheathed a second saber, just as red as the first, attacking with fiery passion. With hatred in every move. You dodged, using the force to toss obstacles in her way. Scraps of ship parts scattered throughout the cave, rocks, anything you could.

Luke’s saber clashed against both of hers and she threw him towards the rocky wall with a clawed grip. You used the Force to stop him, gently lowering him before his head hit the cracked surface.

Blasters fired as Leia, Han, Chewie, and Lando followed, diverting the attention of the rest of the cult. They had smaller weapons. Swords and knives and daggers, their edges twisted with wicked intent.

Insidia’s blade swung just beside you, but you used your wings to lift away, legs swinging behind you. You thrust a hand forward in an attempt to throw her back, but she met you with equal energy, a stalemate of sizzling power hidden in the air between you.

She jolted as a blast made contact with her shoulder, glancing in the direction of the shooter for just long enough to buy you the opportunity to hit one of her sabers out of her hand, across the floor, and down, down into a deep crevice in the makeshift temple.

The volcano rumbled in the distance, shaking the ground beneath you.

Luke leaped through the air, his saber clashing against Insidia’s once more. She wasted no time, dueling both of you at once, alternating between the two of you with one hand. Up, down, over and over. You swung your saber with skill and precision, crossing in front of you, then behind. You used your wings to cut through the air, flipping over her head. And just before you could deliver the final blow, she reached out to catch not her second saber, but a dagger, thrown by one of her followers.

You swung, but missed the end of it, the weapon just short enough to slip through your range. She plunged the twisted blade into your flesh, just above your hip bone. You gasped, breath stolen from your lungs as blood began to seep from the wound. Insidia twisted, pulling a yell from your throat as pain blossomed from the blade.

“This is how the Jedi die.” She seethed, voice rasping as she swung her saber, its molten glow slicing through your wings, the severed remains fluttering uselessly to the cave floor.

White-hot pain tore through your vision, through your body.

And the last thing you heard was Luke Skywalker’s tortured scream echoing off of the cave walls.

There are No Healers

The soft rumble of the Mariposan healing pods was something you were familiar with. You had rushed several allies there during the war under cover of night. Friends with grave wounds that you knew wouldn’t survive otherwise.

You’d sat beside them so many times that the sound was almost comforting. It meant that whoever was inside it was healing, somewhere safe, and that you would be there when they woke up.

You stirred as the rumble came to a stop, the gentle lulling replaced first with silence, the sound of empty air and daylight, and then, voices.

They were quiet at first, their words scrambled murmurs to your tired ears, but eventually, you made out a “Do you think it worked?” followed by a “I swear I just saw her move.”

You took a deeper breath, stretching your aching limbs. You dared to open your eyes, facing the silhouettes standing beside you.

It became clear then that you were the one in the healing pod, based on the angle you were tilted, upright but leaned backwards.

Han was standing to your left, given away by his leather jacket. On the right was Leia and someone else. Another former Rebel, maybe.

You glanced at Han. His hair was darker. Curlier. Coming into sharper focus, but still blurred by your bleary, sleepy eyes. You let out a yawn and said, “Did you do something with your hair? It looks really good.”

Han looked at Leia and the other guy.

“A-are you alright?” Leia spoke but it wasn’t her voice. Wasn’t even her accent.

Your eyebrows furrowed and you laughed softly. “Leia, what is that accent you’re doing?”

They looked at each other again. Not a good sign. Your friends would be joking. Bickering, even. Not staring at you in silence. Maybe something had happened to Luke. Maybe…you’d lost the fight.

“Is Luke okay?” You asked quietly.

“Y-your Highness…” The other voice said, a deeper voice. “What do we tell her?”

“Wait, it’s getting better.” You told them, blinking until your vision sharpened enough to finally see their faces. Your eyes fell on Han first and you realized immediately that you were wrong. Very wrong. “Oh. You’re not Han Solo.”

His mouth fell open, making eye contact with you. His eyebrows furrowed with intrigue. “Honored by the comparison, though, your Highness.”

You studied him for a moment, chiseled jaw dusted in stubble. Thick, dark curls, tan skin. Dark brows, determined features. He was familiar in a way you couldn’t place. Something about his face…Definitely not as tall as Han Solo, though.

On your other side was a young woman in Jedi garb. Well, something close to that. She had a staff strapped over her shoulder, a lightsaber hooked to her belt.

Luke’s saber.

And then there was the third, a man with dark skin and kind eyes. He smiled when you looked at him, trying to dispel the concern you could feel bubbling up in your chest.

You looked up at the temple. Or, what was left of it. You let out a broken gasp at the sight of the shattered stained glass dome, daylight streaming into the room in bright rays. “W-what happened?” You pushed from the pod, wincing at the weight of it, but the woman was quick to support you, slinging your arm around her shoulders. The Not-Han-Solo reached out too, but stopped short of touching you once he saw his friend had it handled.

You stepped over a pile of things, foot brushing against them. Half-burned candles and…flowers, petals dried and scattered.

“I am so sorry. I don’t know how to explain but…you’ve been asleep, your Highness.” She explained, eyes meeting yours with sorrow and empathy. “You’ve been asleep for thirty years.”

You were stunned into silence, standing there for what felt like an eternity, staring up at that broken window. Never had you heard your home planet so quiet.

There are no healers. You finally noticed, taking stock of the empty room, completely abandoned aside from the four of you. There was no chatter from the palace halls, no roaming guards, nothing. You didn’t even hear any birds chirping.

You reached for the saber on your belt just to find it wasn’t there. Neither was your belt. Instead, you were wearing a silky robe, floor length, but thin, and some basic undergarments. Behind you, your wings, restored to their former glory, the only evidence they had ever been harmed in the first place being a thin golden line, right where the saber had sliced them off in a neat arch.

A droid beeping drew your attention as it rolled from behind another pod. Your eyes widened, looking at it. A ball-shaped droid. Orange and white. You’d never seen one like that before.

“Woah.”

“Yes, you can come out now, BB-8.” The man in the leather jacked chuckled. “That’s my droid. He’s curious about you. We…all are, your Highness.”

“I’ve never seen one like that before.” You murmured, looking at him. “Hello there.”

He beeped in greeting and you laughed softly. Technology had progressed. They weren’t lying. It had been…thirty years. You’d been asleep for…

You moved, finally taking a step away from the woman that was supporting you, testing out your legs. They worked, thankfully. “I…need to change out of this. There should be something more…suitable in my room…if this place hasn’t been completely ransacked.”

“Lead the way, your Highness. Take all the time you need,” said the guy in the leather jacket. The Not-Han-Solo.

You walked towards the entrance of the healers’ temple that led to the palace courtyard. Immediately, that was a mistake.

What should have been a giant, gorgeous, flowering tree with a thick trunk and sprawling branches was a husk. The Monarch Tree, the glowing crown jewel of the palace grounds, of the capitol, was gone. The branches had obviously been burned off, broken to splinters. The wreckage of a TIE fighter sat at its base.

Craters littered the lawn, deep dirt-filled holes that hadn’t filled. Beyond them, dozens of destroyed buildings. Hundreds, even.

A broken sob left your lips and your knees gave out from under you. You collapsed into the grass, a hand slapped over your mouth to stifle the yell that wanted to escape. Shaking, you wiped at the tears running down your cheeks.

“What happened?” You asked again, staring at the wreckage of what had once been your home.

“There was an attack. A few days after you went into your pod.” The woman explained, offering a hand that you gladly took as she knelt beside you in the grass. You laced your fingers through hers, her touch familiar despite the fact that you knew you had never met. She didn’t look much older than twenty. She hadn’t even been born when you’d gone to sleep.

“T-the Empire?” You asked, voice wobbling.

“What was left of it.” Leather Jacket Man explained, voice stable. “It was their last attack before going quiet.”

You nodded, listening but not really processing what he said. You blinked a few times, more tears falling.

“Are you going to be alright?” The woman asked, giving your hand another squeeze. Her voice was soft, eyes curious, but gentle.

“I need a minute. I’m sorry.”

“Don’t apologize.” The other man said, shaking his head. “I…I can’t imagine what you’re going through.”

So you took some time. Minutes of quiet, of staring, of thinking before you finally heard a voice in the back of your mind.

Luke’s.

It’s time to get up now, Princess. You’ve got work to do.

Tears of the Princess

You stood again after what felt like a century, leading the others up the winding path and into the rest of the palace. Shards of glass were scattered across the colorful tile floors, furniture overturned, blaster fire immortalized by scorch marks on the wall.

You stepped over broken plates and bottles, making your way through the hallway. Just yesterday you had been there. Yesterday. And now, it was…no, you couldn’t. You didn’t dare think it.

Finally, you led the others to the doors to your room, double doors with golden handles, the wood carved and painted to match your wing coloration. A deep slash had splintered away part of the paint, but otherwise, it seemed untouched. You tried the handle, but it was locked.

“I’ll look for a key.” Leather Jacket Man volunteered, scanning the floor with his eyes.

“No need.” You said, raising a hand and focusing on the lock’s innerworkings. The gentle hum of the Force thrummed heavy on the air and the door came open with a click. “I never used one.”

All three of them stared at you and then at each other, wearing matching expressions. They were impressed. Hopeful, even. You walked inside, looking around to find it…more or less the same. Aside from a thick layer of dust, that was. Some cobwebs.

You made a beeline for the wardrobe, shuffling through your options until you found something more solid than the flimsy healing robe you were in. Beige tunic, brown pants, a magenta wrap, a brown leather belt. You turned towards your private chamber and got changed as quickly as you could, taking stock of yourself in the mirror.

The stab wound in your lower abdomen had healed perfectly, the skin still shimmering from the pod. Other than that, you looked…exactly the same. You hadn’t aged a day. It almost brought you to tears again, the thought of it, but you swallowed them down. There were bigger fish to fry.

Once you were dressed, you returned to the bedroom, where the others were curiously poking around. They all froze, watching as you reentered the room.

“Sorry.” Leather Jacket Man blurted. His eyes scanned your new outfit, looking you up and down. “We’re just curious.”

“That’s alright. You can look around, I don’t care.” You pulled a bag from the bottom of the wardrobe, quickly packing some basics into it. Sleep wear, casual wear, undergarments and undershirts. You pulled a belt with a blaster holster on it and put it in as well. Based on the way the others were armed, you sensed the galaxy was not necessarily in peace times anymore.

You took a few pairs of shoes and then turned to your dresser, where the jewelry was. Somehow, but some act of the Maker, the most important piece of your collection was still in tact. A kyber crystal on a leather cord. You pulled it off of its display and quickly did the clasp behind your neck. In lieu of finding your missing saber, you wanted to keep the door open for building another one at some point, given you could assemble the pieces. Speaking of which, those thick gold cuff bracelets sitting beside it would do nicely. You slipped them on as well.

There was a dainty golden circlet that you let your fingers hover over for a moment before slipping it on over your head. It didn’t feel right, though, so you put it in a box and slipped it in your bag for later. Maybe someday you’d feel like a princess again.

There was another box, one filled with Rebellion pins, cufflinks, and other trinkets. You put that in the bag, too, before turning back to the closet, where the woman was lingering, staring at the colorful fabrics there.

“Do you want some?” You offered, walking over to stand next to her.

“Oh, I couldn’t possibly–”

“Yes you can. Otherwise, they’ll just sit here collecting dust.” You reasoned, flipping through them until finding one you thought would suit her. “You’re a Jedi?”

“I-I am. Training.” She said, meeting your eyes very tentatively. “Your Highness.”

“Then you need some robes.” You said with a soft smile, holding up a green one alongside a blue one. A yellow one, too. “They’re a little open-backed. I hope you don’t mind.”

“I don’t mind.” She said with a chuckle, packing them in another bag.

“Boys, are you in need of anything?”

“Us?” Asked the man with the kind eyes. “No, I don’t think…”

“My brother’s room is down the hall if you want to take a look around. His fashion sense left something to be desired, but if there’s anything there, feel free. As far as I’m concerned, anything still here after thirty years is fair game…”

“Thank you, your Highness.” Leather Jacket Man said with a nod. He put a hand on the other one’s arm. “Come on, Finn. Let’s give ‘em a minute.”

Finn. You memorized, watching as they left. One name down, two to go.

You and the Jedi continued to browse the room, looking for…anything, really.

“What’s your name?” You finally asked her.

“Rey.” She provided, a kind smile on her face.

“I’m (Y/N).” You introduced.

“It’s an honor to meet you, (Y/N).” She replied, and something in you melted. You could tell already that you’d be friends.

You found a few other things laying around, a small tool kit, a sewing kit, things you felt would probably come in handy. You added them to the bag as well.

“Nothing in there.” Leather Jacket Man reported with a shake of his head. “Must not have been locked as securely as your room.”

“Yeah, that checks out.” You nodded. “We’re about done in here anyway.”

“Let me carry that, your Highness.” he offered, reaching for the bag you’d packed. “It’s kind of a hike out to the ship.”

“Thank you.” You said, handing it to him.

He wasn’t lying. They’d parked on the other side of the castle. You took them through a shortcut, which led down past the kitchens. A shelf of pots had collapsed, but that was quickly handled with a flourish of the wrists, using the Force to set everything right again, clearing the way.

“How did you find me?” you asked as you passed the library, nearing their ship, supposedly. “Did someone send you?”

“General Organa–Leia sent us.” Finn told you, solidifying to you two things: one, your best friend was alive, but two, that the galaxy was indeed at war again. “Things are…kind of desperate. We took some heavy losses recently. We need all the help we can get.”

“What was that pod you were in?” Rey asked. “I’ve never seen one that looks like that.”

“Mariposan healing pod. We’re famous for them. They can heal nearly any injury if you get to one in time. Problem is, they can only be opened by the High Healers, locked with their medallions. It’s to protect the vulnerable injured population in the case of an attack. I guess they never thought about someone getting locked inside…”

It struck you then that whoever had attacked had known what they were doing. They must have taken out the Healers before they could let you out. Surely, you would have been of more use to them even injured than asleep.

You pushed past the exterior doors, stepping out into the sunlight again. Beyond the walls, at the outskirts of the palace, was the Millenium Falcon. A wave of relief set in, seeing it, aged though it was. That ship had been home to you on more occasions than you could count.

The ramp lowered and out came Chewbacca, still leagues taller than the rest of the group, covered in fur, bowcaster ready to eliminate a threat, but not finding one. His eyes fell on you and he let out a throaty, emotional roar.

Your face lit up. It was a good thing you weren’t carrying your bag because you would have certainly dropped it with the speed you ran to him. “Chewie!”

He roared again, picking you up off of the ground in a bone-crushing hug.

“I missed you too!” You sobbed, head resting on his furry shoulder. The tears kept coming. You doubted they’d stop. The others very pointedly hadn’t mentioned Luke, Han, or Lando. You could only assume they were sparing you from getting too much bad news at once.

But Chewbacca being alive was nice. You would take the little victories, too.

He ran a paw down your head, setting you back on the ground and studying you. Another little roar.

You wiped your tears and chuckled. “You look great, Chewie. You haven’t changed a bit.”

“You ready to leave? Is there anything else you need?” Leather Jacket Man asked. He hesitated, but elaborated. “I’m not sure we’ll be able to come back.”

You glanced back at the ruined palace one last time, letting out a long sigh. “I think I’m ready. I could stay here forever picking through it all, but I’ve got everything I need.”

“Alright. Good.” He searched your face for a moment, words dying on his tongue before he turned towards the cockpit.

Finn followed after him, an amused smile on his face. “Never seen anyone do that to you.”

“Do what?”

“Steal the words right from that big mouth of yours.”

Leather jacket man let out a sheepish laugh. Chewie put a hand on your shoulder and let out a little roar.

“I know, buddy. I like them already.”

Legends and Fairytales

The entire camp stopped and stared when the Falcon landed at the resistance’s current base. Leia was right there, waiting, hoping, that the moment that ramp lowered, there would be a powerful new recruit on it.

You slung your bag over your shoulder, bracing yourself as the ship landed, the movement of it still familiar, even with a different pilot. That said, he was a rather good pilot, this man in the leather jacket, whoever he was.

The ramp lowered and you followed Rey off of the ship onto the lush planet, the rebel base spread through the trees. You let out a sigh at the sight. The more things changed, the more they stayed the same, you supposed. There were mechanics and comms operatives, bustling to and fro, pilots in their bright orange jumpsuits, prepping for reconnaissance flights.

And in the middle of them was Leia. She stared at you with those knowing eyes, that heartbroken smile. You approached her, wordless, dropping your bag on the ground and surrendering to her arms.

“Leia…”

Her hand cradled your head as she rocked you back and forth. “You have no idea how good it is to see you.”

“I could say the same about you. Tell me…everything.”

She released you from her hold and slipped her hand into yours, giving it a squeeze. She turned to the pilot, as he and Finn finally came off the Falcon. “Thank you, you two. Will you take her things to her quarters for me? We have some catching up to do.”

“On it, General.” The pilot said, scooping up your bag from where you’d dropped it. He reached forward and touched your arm, his hand warm, calloused. “It was great to meet you, your Highness. I’m sure I’ll see you around.”

“Nice to meet you, too.” You said with a smirk. “Thanks for the ride.”

Finn had that look on his face again and you could tell by the way he stood next to the pilot as they walked towards your quarters that he was once again on the verge of teasing him.

Leia led you somewhere private. An office. Her office, you realized, looking at the few scattered trinkets from your time in the war together. A holo on her shelf held a photo of your core group: You, her, Luke, Han, Chewie, and Lando, all together, smiling after the war. You sighed, staring at it. You wondered how many of you were left.

“I’m sorry about…everything.” She started. “I can’t imagine what’s going on in your head.”

“I’m still figuring that out myself.”

“Maker, you haven’t aged a single day.” She murmured, looking at you with those eyes, wizened, worried. The same could not be said for her. Streaks of gray ran through her braided bun, a few wrinkles crinkling her face.

She had lived. She had aged. But she was still your sister, you could feel that much. Nothing in the universe could change that.

“So…what’s it like out there? How bad is it this time?”

“Worse.” Leia sighed. “So much worse. They call themselves the First Order. The Empire but…bigger. Their weapons are more dangerous. And they’re led by my son. Ben. He calls himself Kylo Ren these days.”

“You have a son…” You murmured, arms wrapped around yourself. “With Han?”

“With Han.” She nodded, settling next to you. “He…he’s gone now. It was half a year ago now. And it was Kylo.”

“Luke?” You asked.

She shook her head, blinking away tears. “Gone, too. About a month ago.”

Something broke in you when she said it. You’d known it was coming, you could feel it the moment you woke up, that he wasn’t there anymore. Your space boy was gone, and some piece of your soul crumbled along with him. Still, you asked, “Lando?”

“Is out there. Not sure exactly where. He hasn’t been spotted in a few years. You know how he was. Good at disappearing. But I’m sure he’ll pop up when it matters.”

“He always did.” You stared at the floor, tears falling from your eyes as you mourned your fallen. “M-my family. Did they get out in time?”

“Your parents died in protection of their subjects, the few refugees that managed to escape. No one has seen your brother since the attack.” She took your hand. “But Laesynda has been one of my bravest Admirals. And her son is a budding warrior in his own right.”

“I have a nephew.” You said, joy bursting through the surmounting grief.

“Soren. He’s nineteen.” She said.

“Is he here? Is Laecy? I…I want to see them.”

“They’re offworld on a mission, but they should be back to base soon. Within the next few days. They knew I was sending Rey and the boys to get you today, but none of us knew if the medallion was any good. All we had was hope that you’d be on the Falcon with them when they got back.”

“And hope was all we ever needed, you know.” You grinned. “Where did you find it?”

“I sent Poe to get it, four systems out. Took him a week to track it down. It was a longshot. A friend of a friend of a friend got their hands on it after years of searching.” She pressed her lips together, eyes serious as her hand touched yours. “I never stopped looking, (Y/N). I’m only sorry I couldn’t find it sooner.”

“Thank you, Leia. Seriously, thank you.” You said, fingers curling around her hand. “Whatever you need, I’m here. We…well we did it once. We can do it again. And that Rey…I’ve already got a good feeling about her.”

“I was going to ask you about that, actually. I was hoping you’d train with her. Once you’re settled. She’s just starting her journey. Luke taught her some things but…”

“Of course.” You nodded. “I’m sure she and I can help each other.”

***

After one of the mechs gave you a quick tour, you settled in the canteen, eating a rice bowl with some seasoned meat and veggies, sipping some iced tea. And then you just kind of sat there, watching as people came and went. You heard their whispers, saw their not so subtle points. And then, eventually, people stopped coming, the sky outside dark, the lights around camp clicking on.

The thought of going back to your bunk and laying down to sleep made you sick. Mostly the sleeping part. You weren’t sure what was worse, the thought that all of this was a dream, or that you would drift off even further, to when the Empire–First Order, you supposed–got the upper hand and took over the galaxy.

So you sat, listening to the crickets chirp, the footsteps of the occasional crew member strolling by, first watch heading to their posts for the night. You scrolled through the holo you’d been given, catching up as best as you could.

“Did anyone show you where your quarters are? I can walk you there if you’d like.” It was the pilot from earlier, the one with the curly hair and the impossibly warm brown eyes. “They’re not far from mine.”

“They showed me.” You replied. “But I appreciate the offer.”

“Can’t sleep?”

“I’ve had enough sleep, I think.” You said with a tired chuckle.

“In that case…” He pulled out a chair. “Mind if I sit with you?”

“By all means.” You motioned him forward. “I never caught your name, flyboy.”

He grinned, meeting your eyes and offering his hand, which you shook. “Poe. Poe Dameron.”

Your face lit in recognition. “So I have you to thank for waking me up. Leia told me you’re the one that tracked down that pendant. I can’t imagine what you had to do to find it.”

He smiled. “It was tricky, but…definitely worth it.”

“I’m glad you think so. I’m (Y/N) by the way. (Y/N) (L/N).”

“Oh, everyone knows who you are, your Highness. Luke Skywalker was a legend, but…you were a fairytale.”

You felt heat rise to your cheeks, a smile tugging at the edge of your lip. “A fairytale, huh?”

“Right down to the tiara and magical powers.” He said, eyes soft as he admired you up close. You couldn’t imagine the stories he’d heard about you. “Anyway, I was wondering if you wanted this.” He reached into his pocket and set the pendant on the table in front of you, its pink and purple gem shimmering ever so faintly in the dim light.

Your hand glided across the table, fingers finding the metal token with ease. You lifted it closer so you could get a good look at it. One little metal trinket had made all the difference between whether you slept another thirty years or finally woke. Honestly, you wanted to chuck it deep into the woods, never think about it again, but mementos of your home planet were few and far between. Most of them had fit into one bag. So you accepted the gift, tucking it into one of the pouches on your belt.

“Thank you.”

“Of course.” He nodded. “I’m really sorry we plopped you into another war, but…I’m really glad we have you. We need you. We need your help. If even half of what they said about you is true, you could make a real difference here.”

You mulled it over for a long time. Another war. You’d just begun to settle into the peace after the last one, and already it had been wrenched away from you. It felt impossible. The dread that ate at you every time you thought about it was nearly too much to stomach.

Regardless, you met his gaze, determination knitted in your brow. “That’s the plan.”

Kindle the Spark

You meditated instead of sleeping, sitting on a stump at the edge of the woods as the sun rose. You reached out for him. For Luke. You knew he had to be out there, his spirit, at the very least. And yet, there was no answer. Your space boy had all but abandoned you, leaving you to fend for yourself in this new galaxy you’d woken up in.

You tried not to be bitter about it.

As the sun warmed your face, you felt Rey standing tentatively at the treeline, eyes watching you.

“May I join you?”

“I was hoping you would.” You motioned her over to another stump, a few feet from yours.

She crossed her legs, perching herself on the surface. She had good balance, you noticed.

“So, where did Luke…leave off?” You asked, still not quite knowing how to talk about him. The image of him in your head, you were sure, was quite different from the Luke Skywalker she had known, the one she had trained with.

“We didn’t cover much ground, actually. He was…hesitant to train me. Or anyone, really.”

Your eyebrows furrowed at that. It had been his dream. Your dream. Starting the Jedi again, training the next class. “Oh. Alright, well, then we’ve got a lot of ground to cover. We all start somewhere.”

“Something had happened with his class of Jedi. Kylo Ren was among them.” Her energy shifted the moment she brought him up. “It went very wrong. He blamed himself. Took that as a sign that it was time to end the Jedi.”

“Well it’s not. We both know that. I haven’t been here long, but I can tell. This Rebellion–sorry, Resistance needs us now more than ever.”

“It does.” She met your eyes. “So where do we start?”

Rey was a fast learner. Incredibly fast. You started with some basic drills. You didn’t have a saber, so you used a piece of a branch, playing a lethal game of keep-away through the treetops, where you kept the stick away from Rey’s saber as long as possible, encouraging her to not hit any of the other trees with it.

It was about intention, speed, aim, and of course, agility. And she was good at it.

After something like a ten minute chase, she finally sliced off the end of the branch, earning an impressed smile. You fluttered back down onto the grass, hands on your hips, breathing heavy.

“You’re good. Good reflexes.” You complimented. “You have a fighting background?”

She shook her head. “I grew up on Jakku. Desert planet. It was rough out there, but I don’t have any formal training.”

“We’ll take care of that.” You told her.

“Wow, that was…insane.” Finn complimented, accompanied by Poe, who met your eyes with a smile. “Think you could teach me next?”

You could tell he was joking, that he didn’t think there was any truth in it, but even just standing there, you could tell there was something about him, too. Some spark of potential. Your focus now was Rey, but maybe, in time, you could kindle his spark, too.

After all, you were barely in a position to have one Padawan, let alone two.

“Morning, ladies. Thinking about some breakfast, if you were interested.” Poe said, thumbs hooked through the loops of his trousers, button-up shirt unbuttoned just enough to get a good glimpse at his tanned chest, a silvery chain glimmering against his skin.

You forced your eyes away, meeting his instead. “Breakfast sounds good.”

“How’d you sleep?” He asked as the four of you started walking towards the canteen, where the breakfast trays had been rolled out. Eggs with diced peppers, ronto sausages, some assorted fruit.

“I didn’t.”

He sputtered. “I walked you to your quarters. I kind of assumed that meant you’d go to sleep.”

“Tried. Couldn’t do it. Meditated for a while.” You shrugged. “I’ll live.”

He didn’t look convinced.

You all walked through the breakfast line, taking your servings of food before walking over to an empty table to sit. Once again, the crew members surrounding you were full of whispers, eyes darting to and away from you. You wondered if your clothes were outdated, if you stood out that much, but in most spaces, the wings alone were enough to draw attention, even if you kept them folded down most of the time.

You dug in, the food flavors familiar. It was better than the rations you’d had in your Rebellion days, that was for sure.

“That necklace. What is it?” Rey eventually asked, eyes falling on the crystal hanging around your neck. Clear, and coming to a point.

“I was wondering if you’d notice it.” You chuckled. “This is a kyber crystal. It’s what gives a lightsaber its color and power. Luke didn’t know why I took an extra and…I didn’t either. But if we can’t solve the Mystery of the Missing Saber, I’ll have to try to make a new one. If I could find the parts, that is…”

“What was your saber like?”

“One of a kind.” You reminisced. “Gold hilt. It was made from my mother’s old bracelets. Cuffs like these that I welded into shape. Indigo blade. It was the coolest.”

“Sounds like it.” Poe said, eyes falling on you once again, searching you for something. You wondered if he was like that with everyone…

You spent the rest of your day wandering the base, reading through reports, familiarizing yourself with the war, with your enemies and allies.

Poe was a commander, apparently, according to his files. The best pilot in the Resistance, if not the galaxy. It suited him. And Finn had history with the First Order as a defected Storm Trooper. You were happy for him, finding himself. You wished more people in his position were able to do the same.

Prior to your arrival, there had been a battle on Crait. Heavy losses. The Resistance had reached out for help and…no one had come. You really did seem to be the last hope.

And that was the state of the Resistance. Supplies were running low, recruitment numbers were down…all of you had your work cut out for you.

You went to the hangar, where the pilots hung out. You looked around, introducing yourself to a handful of the other pilots. A guy named Temmin, who went by Snap, a girl named Tess. There was a mech hanging out, hair in long black braids, a pair of goggles strapped to her head. She introduced herself as Aspen. You could already tell she was trouble in the best way.

You met Rose, one of Finn’s friends, and some of her crewmates.

Everyone was nice, welcoming, grateful that you were there. You just hoped you’d live up to the expectations you could feel bubbling under their gazes.

You wandered for a long time, sleep calling to you now finally, the shock of the situation wearing off now that you were somewhat settled, but you ignored it. You still got nauseous at the thought of sleep.

A droid barreled towards you, full-speed. BB-8. Poe’s droid. He stopped at your feet, looking up at you.

“Oh. Hello again. Can I help you?”

He beeped a string of words and you laughed.

“You’re looking for me? Well, you found me.”

“Good work, Bee.” Poe chuckled, carrying a box under his arm, metal pieces clinking and sliding around. “There you are.”

“Whatcha got there?”

“Parts.” He replied, giving the box a noisy shake.

“Yeah, I see that. You building something?”

“No, you are.” He motioned towards the kyber crystal. “You built the first saber. I figured I’d see if it’s anything you can use, your Highness. Scraps, mostly, but…”

Your lip quirked up. “You don’t have to use titles with me, Commander. (Y/N) is fine.”

“(Y/N),” he repeated, voice soft. You liked the way it sounded when he said it. “You did some research, huh?”

“Of course I did. Had to get caught up. I had no idea the best pilot in the galaxy picked me up yesterday.”

He laughed, cheeks reddening. “Yeah, well, you should see me in an X-Wing.”

“I’d love to.” You took a step forward, looking into the box he’d brought you. “May I?”

“By all means. They are for you, after all.”

You poked around, looking through the pieces. With the kyber crystal and your bracelets thrown in the mix…there was definitely potential there. You looked up at him, impressed. “This is really sweet, Poe. Thank you.”

“Anything useful?”

“Definitely.” You nodded, continuing to did. Whoop, there it was. A power cell. Small and cylindrical. Looked like it would be about the right size. If it worked was another question entirely, but with that found, you had all you needed, more or less. “You ever built a lightsaber before?”

He laughed. “Can’t say I have. The only one I’ve ever seen is Rey’s.”

“Do you want to?” You met his eyes.

He laughed again before seeing the look on your face. “Oh, you’re serious. Look, I’m no Jedi.”

“You don’t have to be, but I could use an extra set of hands if you’ve got time. I’m sure you’re a busy guy.”

He pretended to think about it before saying, “Yeah, of course. I’ve got nowhere to be.”

“Is there a workshop around here?”

“This way.” He motioned, leading you through the base.

He pushed aside some curtains, leading to an empty workshop at the edge of camp. BB-8 rolled after the two of you, following at a steady pace. Poe set the box on a work table and you began taking out parts, organizing them, hands guided by what could only be the Force and your memories of building the first one.

You took off your bracelets, setting them on the table along with the kyber crystal, which you gently slid off of the leather cord you had been wearing it on.

Poe pulled up a stool for each of you and handed you a pair of goggles, which you gladly put on. He watched with eager eyes, curious to see what you’d do first.

You drilled holes in the corners of your cuffs so you could screw them into place later. The internal bits, you arranged mid-air, using the Force to line them up just so, following equal parts intuition and knowledge.

Poe stared at the floating pieces, watching as they fell into place. He offered his hands and you directed him where you needed him. He held the hilt in place while you wiggled wires, tightened components, nudging the kyber crystal just so, making sure it lined up with the power cell and the focusing crystals.

Your hands brushed against his, warm and calloused. He had a fighter’s hands. A pilot’s hands. They looked so right, cradling the beginnings of your saber.

You shivered.

“You still with me, (Y/N)?”

“Thinking.” You admitted. You chuckled, shaking your head. “I think I’ve got whiplash from how fast everything’s changed.”

“I can’t imagine.” He said, voice brimming with empathy. “You’re okay, though, right? If you need anything, we’re all right here. It’s gotta be a tough adjustment.”

“I’m okay. Part of me is still convinced this is an elaborate dream.” You shrugged. “I think once we get this thing built, it’ll ground me. Convince me that this is real. That…I’m here to stay.”

“Some sleep might not hurt either.” He suggested with a teasing smirk.

“Back to the sleep again.” You chuckled. “Seriously, I’m okay. And after this, I think you might convince me to finally get some. It’s been a…long couple of days.”

He grinned. “Good. We need you at your best. It’s been a quiet few days, but the quiet never lasts long around here.”

Poe held the hilt while you screwed it all together, double-checking everything, racking your brain for anything you might have forgotten, any piece that might have been missing. By some miracle, it seemed everything you’d needed had been in that box.

Then, finally, came the moment of truth. All that was left was to turn it on.

“Alright, you go stand over there. I’ll power it on.”

“Stand over there?” Poe asked, looking over at the doorway, where you had pointed.

“Yeah, if this thing blows up, I will not be responsible for killing the Resistance’s best pilot.”

He chuckled, walking across the room. “Fair enough.”

Once he was far enough, you pressed the activator and a brilliant magenta hue emerged from the hilt. You stared at the ray of light, the familiar hum of a lightsaber filling the room. You’d done it. You’d built a lightsaber.

BB-8 beeped in awe, his words mirroring the look on Poe’s face as he stared at the weapon in your hand.

“I’ve never seen one that color before.”

“Me either.” You murmured, powering it down and strapping the hilt to your belt, a movement that was just about second nature to you. “Feels right, though.”

“I can’t believe we just did that with a box of scraps!” Poe laughed triumphantly, finally walking further into the room again, standing in front of you. His hands settled on your arms, excitement on those handsome features of his, his touch warm and electrifying. “You built a lightsaber.”

“We built a lightsaber.” You replied, warmth blossoming in your chest, his face so close to yours that you were convinced he was going to kiss you. You could feel that he wanted to. Maybe not wanted to. But he definitely thought about it, about what it would be like to kiss a Jedi.

Instead, he let go, the smile on his face not fading. “We built a lightsaber.” He repeated, letting the words sink in. “We should go show Leia. She’ll be thrilled.”

So the two of you walked straight to Leia’s office and showed her. She was thrilled.

“What do you think the color means, (Y/N)?” Leia asked, staring at the light. She knew more than anyone else there the process of making a saber, the relationship you shared with a kyber crystal.

“New beginnings.” You replied, the answer easy as breathing. It was true. This new life, this new place, these new people. This saber would help you protect them. All of them.

Leia layered her hand over yours. “I think so too. This is good news. I’ll let the team know. If you’re up for it, we could really use you in battle.”

“I’m there.” You told her. “That’s what I’m here for, after all.”

“Good. Well, get some sleep,” she met your eyes. “Both of you.”

“I’ll try.” You promised her. This time, you were sure it was a promise you could keep. You could feel it coming already.

“I’ll make sure she does, General.” Poe said, motioning towards the door, a guiding hand settling between your shoulder blades. “Come on, your Highness.”

You tilted your head, giving him an annoyed smile as he ushered you towards your quarters. “Alright, alright…”

The walk there wasn’t all that long. You opened the door with a flourish of fingers across your keypad, lingering in the doorway. You turned back to look at him, his eyes soft in the dim hallway. It was late. Most of the camp was asleep.

“Thank you, for everything. I…didn’t expect this place to feel so familiar yet, but…It’s like I never left.”

He tilted his head, something bittersweet tugging his lip into a pout. “I wish we’d gone to find you sooner.”

“We’ll just have to make up for lost time.” You said. “Kindle that spark again, make people believe, show them that they can fight for what they love. That…that it’s worth fighting for.”

He nodded. “Took the words right out of my mouth. Well, (Y/N), please get some sleep tonight.”

“I don’t think I could fight it if I tried, at this point.” You grinned, meeting his eyes. “Don’t let me sleep for thirty years this time, alright?”

“I’ll wake you up myself tomorrow morning, if it’d make you feel better.”

“It would, actually. I think that would help a lot.”

“Well then. Tomorrow morning it is. We’ll grab some breakfast. I’ll bring you some caf.”

You smiled softly, chest swirling and warm. “It’s a date, Dameron.”

Wake-Up Call

Sleep cradled you like a lover that night, encasing you in total darkness. You didn’t even dream, just rested. You’d needed it.

There were a few minutes of quiet, sunlight streaming through your narrow bedroom window, where you just laid there, reminisced. It was different than your quarters had been in the Rebellion, but constructed from the same materials, made of the same parts.

Outside, you could hear cadets on their morning jog, loud mechanical noises from the various workshops, people moving parts and packages.

You wondered what time it was.

There was a knock on the door. “Wake-up call! Rise and shine!”

Poe. You smiled. He was true to his word after all.

“Coming,” you replied, rolling out of bed and walking to the door, still in a tank top and a pair of Resistance-grade sweatpants. They slid open with a whir, the pilot standing in front of you with a steaming cup of caf in each hand.

“Morning, your Highness. I trust you actually slept last night?”

“I did indeed sleep last night, thank you for your concern, Commander.”

He grinned, handing you a cup of caf, which you took gladly. If there was anything to be said about a Rebellion, it was best fueled by caffeine. “Good, I’m glad.”

“How did you sleep?”

He shrugged. “I slept alright. My roommate snores, so…”

“I don’t snore half as loud as him, for the record.” Finn chimed, walking over with Rey. He lowered his voice, whispering excitedly. “We heard you two built a lightsaber last night?!”

“Almost forgot about that.” You chuckled, picking it up off of your nightstand. “Give me a second to change out of these sweatpants and I can show you outside.”

The boys and Rey stood out in the hall for a second while you changed into your robes, wrapping a few belts snug around your body, slotting the saber into its holster, where your other one used to sit. It was a little different, the shape of it, the feel, but you would get used to it.

You did a quick once-over of your hair and outfit before opening the door again and facing them.

“Alright, let’s go.” You motioned, taking a long sip of caf and leading them out into the open air, unclipping your saber from your belt, activating it for them to see.

“I’ve never seen one that color before!” Rey marveled. “The two of you built that?”

“I gave her a box of scraps and she built that with it.”

“It was exactly the right scraps, to be fair.” You shrugged, deactivating it and putting it back on your belt.

Finn and Rey started wandering towards the canteen for breakfast, but Poe put a hand on your shoulder.

“Hey, there’s some guys I want to introduce you to.”

“Alright.” You nodded, following him towards the hangar, where a few pilots were milling around, chatting and working on ship repairs. BB-8 rolled over, brushing against your leg on his way to Poe.

“Morning, buddy. Staying out of trouble?”

He beeped in response, earning a laugh.

“Morning, Poe.” Snap said, looking up at the two of you as you walked in together. “Your Highness.”

“Hello again. Good to see you.”

“You already met Snap?” Poe asked.

“I did some rounds yesterday, trying to learn names.”

“Everyone here is talking about it.” He chuckled. “A real life Jedi of legend, walking among us.”

“Oh I don’t know about that.” You shook your head.

“(Y/N), this is Jessika and Karé. The other two members of Black Squadron. Ladies, this is (Y/N).”

“Honored to meet you.” Jessika shook your hand. “I hope our Commander has been accommodating while you’re adjusting.”

“More than.” You chuckled.

“If you ever run into any trouble, we’ve got your back. Glad to have you on board.” Karé said, shaking your hand next.

“Glad to be here, ladies. Thanks for all you do.”

“Alright. Great. Breakfast?” Poe asked.

“Breakfast.” You followed after him, stopped in your tracks by the sound of something breaching the atmosphere.

A ship, engulfed in flame, coming in hot for what was shaping up to be a really rough landing. People started shouting, trying to brace for impact, but it became clear to you that this was a Resistance ship and there was someone important on it.

You jumped into action, sprinting, hands out in front of you, using the Force to slow its momentum, bringing it down to the ground gently, where a team of mechs and emergency response was waiting to put out the flames.

You let out a breath, heart racing as you watched the ramp lower. A woman came out, dressed in Mariposan garb, golden cuff bracelets shining on her wrists. A pair of wings fluttered behind her like a cape, their coloring similar to your own. Time stopped when she met your eyes. Her look of concern, of fear, melted immediately and she ran straight to you, arms wrapping around you tightly.

For a long moment, you just stood there in her embrace, sobs caught in your throat. You held her, letting the familiarity sink in slowly.

This was your sister. Your baby sister, Laesynda. And she was older than you now.

“Laecy?” You asked, voice thick with tears.

“Leia told me they were trying to wake you.” She said, pulling away so she could cup your face with both hands, looking you over. “I’m sorry I didn’t get here sooner. They…they took Soren.”

“The First Order?” You asked.

She nodded. “They intercepted us. I tried to stop them, but…Kylo…”

“We’ll find him, your Majesty.” Poe promised. He put a hand on your arm. “Leia’s calling an emergency meeting. Come with me.”

The two of you followed Poe towards the conference room. There were chairs on risers, arranged in a circle, at the center of it, a console. The higher-ups assembled with haste, Laesynda putting a hand on your shoulder before joining Leia with the Admirals and Generals. Poe sat with the pilots and Rey took the seat beside you.

Once everyone was accounted for, Leia started.

“The First Order has taken Soren prisoner. I vote we stage a rescue mission as soon as possible. Small rescue team. In and out. No more than two ships.” Leia said, weaving the pieces together with ease and precision. Your best friend, the princess of Alderaan had become a General, and a good one, too. It was awe-inspiring to watch. Her eyes fell on you. “(Y/N), do you think you’re ready?”

“More than ready, General.” You replied, sitting up straighter. “Whatever you need, I’ll do it.”

“She can take my X-Wing. They’ll never be expecting her. I doubt they even know she’s awake.” Poe said, determination in his brows. “We have the element of surprise, we should use it while we can.”

“I appreciate the offer, but I can’t fly an X-Wing. I’m not a pilot.” You said.

Leia thought for a moment. “Well, there was that one time.”

You almost laughed. “Okay, I have ridden in an X-Wing, but uh…it was a tight fit. We were in a pinch.”

Poe’s eyes lit up, a shocked grin pulling at his lips. “You and Skywalker crammed into one of those things?”

“We didn’t have much choice.”

“Well, I’ll try anything once.” Poe looked to Leia. “She and I can break in, find Soren, open a gate. Finn and Rey can follow in the Falcon.”

Chewbacca roared, volunteering himself as well.

“Then that’s settled. Laesynda, give them the coordinates. You’re dismissed.”

“I gotta suit up. Meet me in the hangar in ten.” Poe said, touching your shoulder before jogging off.

Laesynda walked over, taking both of your hands. “Thank you for doing this.”

“You’d do the same for me.” You replied, giving her hands a squeeze. “Besides, it’s about time I met him, right?”

“May the Force be with you, always.” She said, voice strong and true.

“And with us all.” You replied, giving her one last, quick hug before taking off towards the hangar.

Poe was there, loading up BB-8 in the back of his X-Wing, dressed in the iconic orange jumpsuit so associated with the Rebel pilots you had fought alongside. It suited him. Really, really suited him.

“Ready, your Highness?” He asked, motioning to the X-Wing. “Your chariot awaits.”

“Ready.” You looked him up and down, unable to fight the smile on your face. “You look good.”

He smirked, cheeks flushing. “What, this old thing?”

“Brings back memories, what can I say?”

Poe climbed up the ladder first, settling into his seat, pushing it as far back as he could manage. He reached up, offering you his hand as you climbed inside. You sat in the smidge of space between Poe’s thighs, wings tucked away as neatly as possible. Ever the gentleman, Poe let you lead, hands hovering.

“Can you reach everything? Am I in your way?”

“No, I’m good. I just…are you comfortable?”

“As comfortable as I can be, squished between you and the dash.” You chuckled, adjusting carefully.

“Hey, this was your idea.”

“Technically, it was Leia’s idea.” You defended.

“Here, could you…” He hesitated. “permission to touch you, your Highness?”

“Permission granted.” You said.

Poe pulled your back flush against his chest, scooting the seat up the tiniest bit so he could reach better. He tilted you slightly so your face was out of his way and he could see out the windshield. “There, that’s better.” He turned, face suddenly inches from yours, breath warm across your cheek. His cologne was sharp. Sandalwood. He gazed at you though those stupidly thick eyelashes. It was almost unfair, the way he looked at you. “You still good?”

Oh yeah, it was definitely bringing back memories now. That look in his eyes, the tugging in your chest.

“Yep. Yeah. I’m good.” You nodded, nose nearly brushing against his helmet. That inch between you felt like a mile.

“Good. Rey, Finn, how are we doing on your end?”

“Ready when you are, Poe.”

“Great. Ball’s in your court, (Y/N). You ready?”

You took a moment, clearing your mind, reaching out, preparing yourself for the journey to come. You touched the hilt of your new saber, as if to remind yourself that it was there. “I’m ready. Let’s go bring him home.”

Something Old and Borrowed

Poe rolled his X-Wing out of the hangar and onto the landing strip. You were seated comfortably in his lap. Well, as comfortably as you could be with the limited space.

“Alright, I need you to hit that switch.” Poe pointed, flipping three others in the meantime.

You reached up and flipped the metal switch with a satisfying click. Something whirred to life. You weren’t sure what.

He reached around you, arm wrapped tight around your waist so he could take the control rod. “This still good?”

“Yep. Feel free to push me around as necessary.”

“Wouldn’t dream of it, Princess.” He smirked. “Alright, Bee, punch it.”

BB-8 let out a string of beeps and then you took off into the air. It was definitely faster than Luke’s X-Wing. New gen tech, you deduced. It only made sense that space ships would get better in the thirty years you’d been sleeping.

You took a long breath, the rush exhilarating, especially when you were out of orbit and Poe shifted it into hyperdrive, the Resistance base fading to a mere blip miles and miles behind you. You let out a thrilled little laugh, bracing against the impact of that initial thrust.

“So he really never taught you how to fly, huh?” Poe asked, still obviously hung up on it.

“We were busy.” You shrugged. “I knew some of the stuff in the Falcon cockpit, and my aim is pretty decent with a blaster, but they never had me up here in one of these. I was better suited on the ground. I was really good at drawing fire so everyone else could do the important stuff. Jedi are excellent distractions.”

“I would argue the stuff you were doing was important, too.” Poe said, shifting the control rod just so, arm digging into your side ever so slightly.

“Yeah?”

“I’ve read the reports. Seen some of the archive footage.” He confessed. “There’s a reason everyone on base looks at you like that.”

“Like what?” You asked, looking back at him, coy smirk on your face.

“Like this, I’d imagine.” He whispered, eyes full of warmth, even through his tinted visor.

Your breath hitched, heart caught in your throat. “Poe…”

He cleared his throat, eyes flicking back to the windshield. “Sorry.”

“Don’t be.” You shook your head, eyes scanning his features one last time before shifting forward again.

“What’s your ETA, Commander Dameron?” Leia asked over the comms.

“About an hour out from the coordinates, General. Any tips as to what we’re flying into here?”

“Star Destroyer. They’re out in the Shade system.”

Something in you sank, heart racing as you remembered the last time you had been there. How could you forget? After all, that was where you’d died thirty years ago.

“Do we know what they were doing out there, General?” You asked, voice strained.

“Retrieving something of utmost importance.” Leia replied. “We can discuss it when you return.”

“Alright.” You said, deflating.

“What’s up with the Shade system?” Poe asked, watching your expression. “What are we flying into?”

“It’s where I died. And it was where they were trying to…revive Palpatine.” You explained, your shimmering scar seeming to burn as you did, memories of Insidia’s words, the malice in her tone, her blade buried in your hip.

Poe muted himself with a press of a button on the wall, muted you with another, giving you a moment of privacy. “You okay with this? I didn’t realize that was where we were headed.”

You nodded. “We’re not turning around. They’ve got my nephew on that ship. Never met the kid, but…”

Poe nodded. “We’re gonna get him back, don’t you worry about that.”

“What’s he like?”

“Soren? He’s great. Been on base since he was seventeen. Your sister just started bringing him on missions recently. He’s got a great shot. Good at repairs and maintenance. The mechs started teaching him how to fix ships.” He grinned. “He’s a good kid. He’s got the spark like the rest of us, wants to make a real difference out here.”

“I can’t wait to meet him.”

“He couldn’t wait to meet you, either. Grew up on stories about you.” Poe said. He smiled softly. “We all did.”

There was some comfortable quiet between the two of you. BB-8 piped up every so often with status updates.

“So how do you…fly this thing?” You asked, earning a smirk, Poe’s arm adjusting around you, hand still wrapped around the control rod.

“Thought you’d never ask. So, this controls movement mostly, pitch and yaw, affects my–our trajectory. Speed is this lever over here. That one is hyperdrive. The buttons on the control rod are our blasters. This one to aim, trigger to fire. Different adjustments for stationary and moving targets.”

“And what’s the one you had me flip earlier?”

“The air conditioning.”

You laughed. “Ah, yes, important.”

“Well, you know, I figured it might get a little muggy in here, two of us and all. I’m not used to sharing this cockpit with such a beautiful copilot. Or any copilot, really.”

BB-8 chirped in annoyance.

“I said in the cockpit, Bee, you’ve got your own compartment.” Poe retorted, sharing a look with you. “Droids.”

“Droids.” You agreed with a laugh.

It was more comfortable after that, the two of you chatting a bit until Finn, Rey, and Chewie finally came over the headset. You were getting closer to the Star Destroyer. You’d arrive about seven minutes before the others, try to get them a way in as quickly as you could, as well as a speedy escape route.

“We’re gettin’ close. You ready for action?”

“Always.” You replied. “You got your blaster?”

“‘Course I do. It’s gonna get ugly out there. Always does where Stormtroopers are involved.”

“As long as their aim hasn’t improved too much, I should be all set.” You chuckled.

“It’s never been great, in my experience.”

“Oh, never. I think there’s something wrong with their helmets. They’re not custom-fitted so a lot of them genuinely can’t see.”

“She’s right about that.” Finn said with a laugh. He was speaking from experience. “Can’t believe they haven’t found a solution for that after thirty years.”

“Tell me about it.”

“You got a plan?” Poe asked, trying to plot out his approach.

“Get me in there, pop the lid of this thing, and I’ll handle the rest.” You assured him. “I’m good at making an entrance.”

“Alright, works for me.” Poe pulled up on the hyperdrive and the stream of stars came to a halt, the Star Destroyer seemingly appearing before you. “We’re here. See you three on the other side.”

“Roger that, Commander.” Finn said.

Chewbacca roared some encouragement and then Poe maneuvered expertly past blasts from the surface canons, shifting every which way, doing a barrel roll, his other arm wrapping tightly around you to prevent you from falling up into the dash. After all, you weren’t wearing a seatbelt.

His speed alone was remarkable, but his skill was unmatched. You’d never seen someone fly like that before.

He whipped into the hangar, landing the X-Wing and popping the cockpit open. You put a hand on your saber, using the Force and your wings to propel up and out of the X-Wing, deflecting incoming blaster fires in a flurry of light. You spun down to the ground, skilled movements dispatching Stormtroopers as they approached.

You slashed your saber in a figure-8, returning any enemy fire right back to the senders, knocking them on their asses with a chorus of groaning.

In moments, there was a pile of Stormtroopers at your feet, a very impressed pilot climbing out of the cockpit. He unloaded BB-8, who rolled ahead of you down one of the hallways, following some kind of signal from Soren.

You felt a similar pull, but this one, you could tell, was the Force. It came from your chest, like a tether stretched down the endless hallways, leading you towards him, your nephew. Your family.

Poe gripped his blaster, a hand on your arm. “Bee says he’s this way.”

“He’s right.” You nodded, lightsaber still aglow in your hand. “I can feel it.”

You ran down stark white and black corridors. Maker, did it bring back memories…They were still using all the same designs, color scheme unchanged.

“Landing in four minutes. How are we looking, Poe?” Rey asked.

“We are looking great. She took out twenty Stormtroopers before I even got out of the cockpit.” Poe relayed. “They know we’re here, but we’re on the way to Soren now. Shouldn’t be long before we find him.”

BB-8 stopped suddenly in front of a door, letting you know that this was the one.

You reached forward, focusing on the control panel. It was a biometric lock, only meant for very specific people to get through. They obviously knew who they had their hands on, that this captive was an important one. You felt the mechanical pieces inside, feeling for the one tiny chip, and used the Force to trigger it.

The light turned green, door sliding open. You powered down your saber and hooked it to your belt once you saw the room was empty aside from Soren, strapped onto what you could only assume was a torture rack.

There he was, your nephew. His youthful features were weighed down by exhaustion and pain, blood trailing down from his temple.

“Brings back…memories.” Poe said with a shiver.

“Same here.” You said, walking straight over to him and undoing the restraints with a flourish of your hand.

You stood over him, waiting for him to wake. “Soren?”

Poe gave his shoulder a shake, his other hand on his blaster, eyes locked on the door. “Come on, buddy, we’ve gotta go.”

He stirred, eyes meeting yours through a thick layer of exhaustion. “That was fast.”

“Not fast enough, apparently. Sorry, kid.”

“‘M alright.” He insisted, struggling from the hold of the table. You helped pull him out. “Who are…?”

“I’m (Y/N). Your…mother’s sister.”

“Aunt (Y/N)?” He asked, eyes shooting open. “They…they found you.”

“Did you ever doubt us?” Poe asked with a chuckle.

“Didn’t expect you to be so…young.” Soren noted.

“Yeah, well, I didn’t expect you to be so old.” You replied, the boy standing in front of you only younger than you by roughly five years. It was odd, to say the very least, given that he hadn’t existed as of a week ago. “Or to…exist at all, really…”

“Mum and I were on a mission, looking for your–”

There was sounds of struggle down the hall. You watched as a Stormtrooper flew past the open door, thrown, very obviously, by the Force. Rey and Finn ran past after.

“In here!” You called.

They turned and joined you in the interrogation room. Rey held out another saber, gold hilt. For a moment, you thought you had dropped yours, but no, it was a different saber. As soon as your hand touched the metal, you could tell it was yours, your old one. What had happened to it in the meantime was a mystery, but it still fit so well in your hand.

You pressed the switch, its indigo glow stretching outwards, familiar to you. You’d missed it. Somewhere in your soul, you could tell it had been a long time since you’d held it.

“Your saber.” Soren said, completing his sentiment from earlier. “We figured you’d need it if you were going to help us take down the First Order, but it seems like you got your hands on another one…”

You powered it down, offering it to him. “Are you trained?”

He stared at it, flabbergasted. “What?”

“Can you use this?”

“I’m not a Jedi.” Soren said, shaking his head.

You felt it in him, Force sensitivity. But maybe he’d been too preoccupied with his budding membership in the Resistance to notice it just yet.

BB-8 let out a string of agitated beeps.

“Company.” Poe announced, blaster poised at the ready.

“We’ll talk about this later, then.” You assured him, powering up both sabers, the pink and purple filling the cold room with a warm glow. It was like both of you were standing there, your old self and your new self. You’d fought the Empire for years, it was time to give the First Order a taste of what they’d been missing in your absence. “I’ve never dual-wielded before, but…there’s a first time for everything.”

Poe laughed, triumphant, face lit in an excited smile. “I like the sound of that!”

Rey and Finn led the charge back towards the Falcon, where Chewie was keeping it warm. The rest of you followed, Poe blasting, ducking for cover behind pillars you passed, Soren right behind him.

You covered them, deflecting most of the blaster fire sent their way.

The hangar was flooded with Storm troopers. Chewie tried to shake as many as he could, but there were a few on top of the hood, trying to crack into it with a variety of weapons.

Rey handled the ones on the ground, hundreds of troopers doing their damndest to prevent your escape. Bless their hearts.

Your wings fluttered and you spun up onto the top of the Falcon, the five Stormtroopers there stopping to stare at you before redirecting their fire. You spun both sabers with ease, deflecting their shots down onto the troopers on the ground, taking out two dozen or so before they got the hint and stopped shooting.

One came at you with a large, electrified melee weapon. He swung at your feet, but you jumped over it, slicing through the shaft of the weapon before turning and slicing through his armor on the backswing.

You threw a saber at another, using the Force to draw it back in an elongated spin through the air, and then finished off the other three in a few quick moments.

“We’re all inside, (Y/N), ready when you are.”

“Tell Chewie to open the sunroof.” You said, deactivating your sabers and clipping them to your belt. You ran, dropping into a slide just as said sunroof opened beneath you. You dropped into the ship, pressing the button on the wall to close it again.

You strode into the cockpit, where Poe was hovering over the controls, his jaw dropping open when he saw you standing there, already inside. He shook it off, refocusing on the task at hand: escape.

“What about the X-Wing?” You asked before noticing it in flames at the edge of the hangar. Figured. “Nevermind.”

“And with that, we are outta here.” Poe settled into the driver’s seat, Chewie as his copilot.

They sped out of the hangar, weaving through blaster fire until finally, you were all out of range.

“Wanna kick it into hyperdrive for me?” Poe asked, motioning to the lever.

You leaned over him, hand wrapping around the metal handle. “When, now?”

He wrapped his hand around yours, shifting it backwards. “Now.”

The pilot lingered for a moment before taking his hand off of yours, eyes searching your face, as if to make sure you were real, that you weren’t really just a fairytale, especially after watching you in action, leaping around like the famed warrior Leia had always claimed you to be.

He’d believed it before, but he’d just seen it with his own eyes. To say he was starstruck did not even begin to cover what he was feeling.

And somehow, despite it all, you were so normal with him, still bantering, flirting even. Maker, he was in it deep, now.

He pushed it down, that bubbling, boiling, burning feeling, focusing instead on the expanse of space in front of him. He looked at you, forcing a casual smile. Any more than that, and he felt his heart might explode. “You were great out there, Princess.”

“So were you, flyboy.” You complimented. You put a hand on his shoulder, sending his heart racing. “I’m gonna go talk to Soren.”

“Yeah, of course. We’ve got it handled up here, right Chewie?”

Chewie roared, reaching out for a hug that you granted him, all laughs and smiles. “It is, buddy. Just like old times.”

***

The Millenium Falcon pulled into the Resistance base to cheers and applause, the team rallying down on the ground at a rather successful mission. Soren had been rescued, and there had been no casualties, aside from Poe’s latest X-Wing, but that was nothing that couldn’t be replaced.

You walked out of the Falcon alongside your nephew. You had spent the hour back to base getting to know him. He was a bright young man, funny with a dazzling wit and a kind heart. Laesynda had raised him well.

And, of course, she was standing there just outside the ship, pulling both of you into her arms as soon as you reached her.

It was so strange. From an outsider’s perspective, you could have almost been her child, his older sister. Instead, your family tree had been twisted. But in that moment, it was just nice, the three of you all together. Your little family.

Your sister, cupped your cheek with her hand, staring at you for the first time, really taking in the sister that had come back to her after all this time, her older sister that had become her younger sister.

“Thank you, for bringing him back to me.”

“Of course, Laecy. I’d do anything for you.” It had always been the truth.

“I see you’ve met your aunt.”

“She really is something, Mum. Used two lightsabers at once, took out nearly four dozen stormtroopers in five minutes! I’ve never seen anything like it.”

“I don’t think it was four dozen.” You replied, chuckling.

“Damn near that many.” Poe said, approaching. He was fiddling with his gloves, still wearing his flight suit, the bright orange causing him to stand out. Not that he didn’t already. His mere existence was enough to turn your head. “Admiral, is there anything else you need before I go change out of this?”

“You’re all set, Commander. Thank you.”

“All in a day’s work.” He grinned, eyes lingering on you as he walked back towards the pilot locker rooms.

“Seems the Commander’s taken a liking to you.” Laecy said with a girlish grin.

“I would say so, yeah. Unexpected, but…I’m warming up to it.” Your hands rested on your belt, where both sabers were strapped. It reminded you of your thought earlier. “Soren, would you want to come to training with Rey and I from here on out? It’s okay if I’m wrong, but…I just have this feeling that you could benefit from some Force work. I feel like there’s something there.”

He looked at his mother, as though asking for permission. She nodded, that knowing sparkle in her eye.

“I thought so, but I wasn’t sure. It’s always been hard for me to tell, since you left.” Laesynda admitted.

“You think I’m…a Jedi too?”

“I think you could be, if it’s something you want to work on. It runs in the family, after all.”

“Then I’ll be there. I’d like to try. Help the Resistance however I can.” He said, eyes sparkling with an impossible amount of hope. No wonder Leia had prioritized his rescue so highly. That, and you were sure she wanted to send you on a test run. Make sure you hadn’t lost your touch.

He walked off towards the canteen for dinner, where the rest of the crew was beginning to wander, murmurings of a victory party beginning to spread.

“So, (Y/N), you promised when you came back you’d let me braid your hair.” Laesynda proposed, a certain shyness in her voice, like she was afraid you’d say no. Or maybe she was afraid you’d forgotten her final proposition to you all those years ago.

You smiled, reaching for her hand, which she gladly gave you. “I’d love that.”

So Long, Space Boy

You sat in your sister’s quarters, in a hall with the rest of the Admirals. She had a full-sized bed, quite a few things from home. In a small cooling unit, she had several glass bottles of sweet drinks. She offered you one with a smile and you took it gladly, enjoying the warm buzz of it.

She plucked a brush from the dresser along with some clips and an elastic to tie your hair off and set to work, parting off pieces and carefully weaving them into intricate strands.

“I missed you.” She spoke, breaching the quiet that had settled.

“I missed you, too.” You told her, and it was true. Despite the fact that it had only been a few days since you’d seen her, it still made your heart ache to know that she was offworld, not only alive, but older.

Older than you.

She’d been ten when you’d left with Luke and the others. And you’d blinked and now she was a woman, a few strands of silver mixed into the gentle waves of her hair, wrinkles beside her eyes. She had a son. She’d had a life. It hurt indescribably that you hadn’t been there for any of it.

“Tell me everything. Tell me about your life.” You told her, meeting her eyes in the mirror as she gently worked through your hair.

“Well, I was raised by the few surviving elders of Mariposas on a small settlement of us on Yavin 4. Not a lot of us survived, but…there were enough. I lived there for several years, met a man, got married, and had Soren not long after. Everything was…perfect for a while. Then, things with the First Order started getting worse. Leia touched base. At first, I thought I could stay out of it, but…that just was not an option. The First Order tried to recruit Soren at every turn. I couldn’t keep him safe anymore, so we found Leia, joined up with the Resistance.”

“What happened to your husband?”

“He’s undercover. Doing work underground. Last I heard, he’s safe. We hear from him every few months.”

“I’d love to meet him.”

“He’d love to meet you.” She replied, tying off the braid at the end, laying it over your shoulder. “Leia told me her plan years ago, to track down the last Healers’ Pendant, to wake you. I thought it was too good to be true, but…then she put Poe Dameron on the case. That boy doesn’t know how to give up. He’s one of the best.”

“Seems like it.” You agreed, chest buzzing at the thought. Poe had saved you. You knew that much. “I’m glad you’re here.”

“I was going to say the same.” She laughed. You turned to look at her, facing her on the bed, just like when you were girls. You’d always had quite the age gap, but you tried to involve yourself as much as you could while she was young, unlike your brother, who couldn’t be bothered with bonding with either of you.

“Now, it seems you’re ready for that party the mechs were buzzing about.”

“Party? I don’t know about all that. Was this your scheme from the beginning?”

“You’re still young.” She said with a soft, bittersweet laugh. “You should enjoy it. Besides, a certain pilot could very well be in attendance. You never know.”

“Is he usually at those things?”

“On several occasions, he has been known to make an appearance or two.”

“I don’t have anything to wear.” You lied.

“Banthashit. Let’s go.” She stood, ushering you towards your room.

You unlocked it and led her inside, where you went through the clothes you had brought. Admittedly, there was not a lot you were working with. You’d packed light. But she pulled one dress, a long, flowing thing that looked like it had been hand-dipped in a sunset.

“This one. You always looked so beautiful in it.”

“It’s not…outdated?”

“It may be a little old-fashioned, but…I think that’s what they need right now. A little old-fashioned Rebel moxie.”

You laughed, holding the dress up to your frame, thinking about it for a long few moments before committing and changing into it, abandoning your Jedi robes for the summery gown instead. It wasn’t all that long, had some off-the-shoulder sleeves, and of course, the open back for your wings. It had been custom-made for you, a birthday or something, before you’d left to join up with the Rebellion.

You were glad you’d brought it with you.

Laecy plucked your delicate golden circlet from your assorted jewelry and gently set it on your head, her hand lingering against your face. Her lips pressed into a pout and tears welled in her eyes as she looked at you. “This is how I remember you.”

You choked on a sob, pulling her into your arms, gently stroking through her hair like you had done when she was a child. You may have looked the way she remembered you, but the Laecy you remembered was gone now, living on only in your memory.

She had grown up and you would never see her again.

***

Laecy retired to her room to work on reports, giving you one last shove towards the party you were still thinking of avoiding.

You could hear it long before you could see it, talking and music and laughter echoing over the hill. Poe was standing outside the canteen, pacing, nursing a cup of what you could only assume was Jet Juice, if that was still something they made for parties on these Resistance bases.

You approached slowly, second-guessing every step until his eyes finally fell on you and that face broke out into that infamous smile that had the girls on comms giggling and kicking their feet. You couldn’t say you blamed them.

“Didn’t think you’d come down here, your Highness.” He said, eyes raking down your body from the circlet perched in your hair to the dress you were wearing. He bit his lip. “I was hoping you would, though.”

“I’ve never been known to shy from a party.” You said with a chuckle. “Had quite the reputation in my day.”

He smirked. “Oh, I know. Shall we?”

Poe offered his hand and you considered for a moment before taking it, arm tucked behind his as he led you into the canteen. Cadets bobbed along to music one of the droids was playing. One of the other pilots was bartending, mechs crowded around a table playing Space Pong.

Another round of introductions broke out. You sipped Jet Juice from a cup as Poe bragged about your mission, recounting your acts of bravery, the way you made lightsaber wielding look as easy as breathing.

“You’re one to talk, flyboy. I’ve never seen a pilot fly like you.” You told him, eyes meeting his.

“You mean that?”

“Every word.”

Rose held up a box of what appeared to be a drinking game of some kind. Finn stood beside her, Rey with them, all of them unwinding. “Want to play?”

“Yeah, deal us in.” You said, giving Poe a tug over towards them. They had two couches on either side of a small, illuminated coffee table. You sat on the end, Poe in the seat next to you, his leg touching yours and his arm settling on the couch behind you.

“So how was it?” Snap asked, sitting on a chair he’d pulled up. “Cramming another person into an X-Wing?”

“Cozy.” Poe replied, taking a sip of his drink, arm hovering dangerously close to your shoulders. “Didn’t expect it to work so well, honestly.”

“Could have used another seatbelt, though.” You added. “I almost got a face full of windshield when this guy did a barrel roll. Good thing he’s got quick reflexes.”

“Oh so you got cozy cozy.” Finn laughed, eyebrow quirking at the look on Poe’s face when he said it.

“Had to reach the control rod somehow.” He shrugged, glancing over at you. “(Y/N) didn’t seem to mind.”

“Wow, you’re on a first name basis with the Princess of Mariposas?” Snap teased. “Must be nice.”

“After today, I think he’d have to be.” You said with a grin, tucking your legs up against Poe’s thigh.

Poe’s arm finally drifted from the back of the chair, settling around your shoulders as soon as you made a move closer to him. It was like he couldn’t stop himself. And when you met his eyes, you could tell that was the case. His gaze softened, eyes scanning over your face, down the intricate braid that sat on your shoulder. Somehow, you felt closer than you had been earlier, despite the fact that you weren’t literally perched on his lap this time.

His eyes flicked down to your lips and you thought he might actually kiss you, in front of your budding friend group. Part of you wanted him to. Instead, his eyes drifted out the window and his eyebrows furrowed.

“Ummm…”

“What?” You turned to look. Standing at the edge of the woods was a blue, glowing figure.

Luke. It had to be.

Your heart flickered with something between elation and rage. He finally decided to make an appearance. How convenient for him.

“Maker. Alright. Great. I’ll, uh, be right back.” You said, unfurling yourself and brushing yourself off, suddenly self-conscious.

“You want us to wait for you?” Rose asked as a few more stragglers joined their circle.

“You can start without me. Just save me a seat.” You replied, giving the others one final look before turning and walking towards the woods.

From a distance, he looked like Obi-Wan, in a way, shrouded in a phantom hood, his blue glow eerie and awe-inspiring. When you got closer, it was clear. This was Luke, under that beard and long grayed hair. Your space boy had grown into an old man.

“You don’t look thrilled to see me, Princess.” He said, voice echoing at the edges, another reminder of the plane of existence that stood between the two of you now.

“I reached out for you three days ago. Might have been more thrilled to talk to you then.”

He chuckled to himself, sounding bitter. “I’m sorry.”

“Are you?” You asked, heart racing, a searing rush of adrenaline coursing through your veins. “I…I’ve had the time to do the math, you know. It took Poe Dameron a week to find that pendant. You had thirty years. Pardon me for feeling like maybe you didn’t want me to wake up.”

“Walk with me.” He reached out, offering his arm.

You stared at it for a long moment, anger still bubbling beneath the surface. But you relented, taking his arm as best you could, and walking deeper into the woods.

Fireflies floated from tree to tree, illuminating the darkened moon. You remembered the glowing butterflies of your home planet. You wondered if they’d survived the attack, if any of the fauna had. You hadn’t really stuck around there long enough to find out.

“I wanted to. You have to know I wanted to.” He said, face shifting from his wizened older form to your space boy, eyes clear when they met yours, features identical to the way he’d looked the day you’d left.

“No. Don’t do that.”

“Don’t do what?”

“Don’t use his face against me.” You said, staring straight at him. Your heart ached. You motioned to him vaguely. “This Luke loved me. He wouldn’t have let me rot in a healing pod for three decades.”

With a sigh, he aged himself again, long silver beard replacing his smooth, youthful face. “I tried, but I couldn’t.”

“Tried to find it or tried to wake me?” You asked, jaw set on edge as you braced yourself against his words.

“Both, I…I searched the wreckage for days. Couldn’t even find one with the Force. I tracked down the elders after they’d scattered, I searched markets and spoke to smugglers and…every night, I dreamt of your life here. This was your destiny. This Resistance needed you and I knew I couldn’t stand in the way of it. So…I stopped looking.”

“It should have been my choice.” You said, words dripping with venom. “My whole life is gone! Don’t you realize that? You’re dead. Han’s dead. Lando is Maker knows where and Leia has been here alone, knee-deep in a Resistance that you were too stubborn to join! I could have been here! I could have helped train Rey so long ago. So many people died. So many.”

“I know…”

“I don’t think you do! You made one measly attempt to fulfill our dream and then hid in a cave for years!” You took a shaking breath. “My little sister is older than me now, Luke. She had to live her whole life without me. I should have been there for her. I should have been the one raising her. She should have had someone. Her whole family died and you left me there to sleep.”

He nodded, letting you vent for the first time since you’d awoken. “Anything else?”

“No, I think that about covers it.” Your wings flared behind you. You faced him, arms crossed, brows furrowed. “I wish things had been different is all.”

“I do too.” He agreed, eyes wandering back to camp. “And I’m sorry. Maybe someday, you’ll realize why it had to be like this. If I could have taken your place, I would have in a heartbeat, but…I knew you had to be here. They need you. They need you like this. It was always supposed to be you.”

A tear slipped down your cheek. “Maybe someday, I’ll understand.”

“You already do.” He said, tilting his head. “I loved you, (Y/N), with all my heart, but part of me always knew our destinies weren’t intertwined the way I wanted them to be. That you were supposed to be here…with them, with…”

“With who?”

He didn’t answer. “And I’ll always be here with you. Always. I’ll be here to guide you as best as I can. I lived my life. Now it’s time to live yours. Live our dream, bring up the next class of Jedi, just like we always wanted to.”

Another tear fell down your face. “I just wish I didn’t have to carry it alone. I was supposed to carry it with you.”

“I know, Princess. I…I won’t blame you if you don’t forgive me. But I need you to be strong for them. For Leia. She needs you, they all do.”

You nodded, but didn’t say much else, your opinions on the matter still swirling before they settled. Maybe someday, you’d come to terms with it once the whiplash healed.

He walked you back to the edge of the woods, hand held in yours as best as it could be. You hugged him tightly, his phantom form manifesting physically for just a moment, just so you could say goodbye.

“Goodbye, Princess.”

You pressed a kiss to his bearded cheek, and then he faded, leaving you alone at the edge of the woods to think over everything he’d said. Your destiny was here, with the Resistance. You wiped away the tear trickling down your cheek, and turned back to the party, more than ready to finish your drink and take your mind off things.

The group around the table was laughing and talking, shuffling through the metal cards in the box, different challenges etched on each. Poe was sitting, deep in thought, the spot beside him saved by BB-8, who looked so silly up on the couch. As soon as Poe saw you approach, his focus jumped to you, searching you like you were a ship’s console, reading the flashing signals to figure out what was wrong.

He left the group for a moment, walking over to you instead, to give you a moment of privacy if you needed it. “How did it go?”

“Fine. Good. I…” you chuckled in advance at how ridiculous it was going to sound, but said it anyway, “I think I just broke up with Luke Skywalker. Or…he broke up with me. Kind of…unclear, actually.”

His eyebrows furrowed, mouth opening and then closing as he tried to find his words. “Are you…okay?”

You nodded, managing a hopeful smile. “I am. Help take my mind off of it?”

“Oh, I’m good at that.” He offered his hand, palm up, fingers splayed.

You took it, his palm rough against yours. Warm. “I know you are.”

You walked back over the couch together, where instead of whatever game Rose had pulled out, the group was now playing a very intense game of Never Have I Ever.

“Oh, right. If you’ve ever pet a bantha, worn a Stormtrooper helmet, been drunk on Coruscant, or snuggled with a Wookie, you have to take a sip.” Poe filled you in.

You reached for your cup and took a long sip from it. “I have indeed snuggled with a Wookie. Chewie gives very good cuddles.”

“Snap, your turn.”

“Alright.” He eyed up Poe and said. “Never have I ever kissed a Jedi.”

Poe shook his head. “Haven’t had the pleasure, myself.”

“Okay that feels very targeted. There were only two of us. Three if you count Yoda.” You laughed, taking another sip. “And we kissed each other back then, so…very limited pool you’re pulling from here.”

“Oh!” Snap laughed. You could tell he had been fishing for something else. “You and Skywalker.”

“Yeah.” You nodded, finally letting the burden of it go. It didn’t need to be a secret anymore, especially now, since it was over. Since he was gone. “Me and Skywalker. Worst-kept secret in the galaxy.” You looked at Poe, testing the waters a little bit. “Besides, what happens in the X-Wing stays in the X-Wing.”

He let out a laugh, shoulders shaking. “What she said. My turn? Never have I ever wielded a lightsaber. There. That’s at least three of you.”

“Three?” You asked, taking yet another sip of your drink. “Who’s the third?”

“Finn has some lightsaber history.” Rose said, swirling the liquid around in her cup.

“Really, that is interesting. We’ll have to get you back on that.”

“You’ve spent like a week here and you’re converting us all to Jedi.” Finn chuckled, reaching for his drink.

“Well someone’s gotta.” You shrugged, curling up against Poe again. His arm rested on the back of the couch, but you could feel him thinking about wrapping it around you instead. You kind of wished he would. You leaned closer to him, face inches from his, liquid confidence finally kicking in.

His eyes found you, intrigued, watching your every move.

“You can hold mine if you want, you know. All you’ve gotta do is ask.”

His thick eyelashes brushed against his tan cheekbones. His voice dropped to a whisper. “Hold what, your Highness?”

“My lightsaber.” You raised your eyebrows, heart racing under his intense brown gaze. “What did you think I was gonna say, Dameron?”

He smiled, tongue jutting over his bottom lip. You imagined them pressed to yours, and you weren’t sure if it was a vision or just a fantasy, the way they’d feel, the way he’d sound. You swore you could feel his stubble tickling across your skin, his fluffy curls threaded through your fingers, warm warm skin on yours.

You snapped out of it with a start. This was why the Force and alcohol didn’t mix.

He didn’t answer. “Your turn.”

“Right. Well, there’s a lot of things I have done.” You turned your attention to the rest of the group that was still sitting there, watching. “Never have I ever been inside a TIE fighter.”

A few people in the circle took sips, laughing and chatting amongst each other. You watched them all. This crew, this Resistance. Maybe Luke was right. Maybe this was where you belonged.

You glanced over at Poe, at the lovesick look that was already set deep in those warm brown eyes of his. You could feel it, stirring around in his heart. Had been since that first night in the canteen. Maybe even since the moment he saw you.

Yeah, maybe Luke was right about other things, too…

The Heirloom

You had something of a headache the next morning. It shouldn’t have been a surprise, given the sheer amount of Jet Juice you’d consumed the night before. You got some breakfast before training, sliding familiarly into your seat between Poe and Rey.

He quirked up an eyebrow at your sheer exhaustion. “You feeling alright, your Highness? Looking a little worse for wear.”

“Thanks. Right back at ya, flyboy.” You groaned, reaching for the cup of caf he’d gotten for you and drinking, not bothering to let it cool. The heat definitely woke you up.

“Some party last night, huh?” Finn asked, unable to keep the smile off of his face.

“You should have seen the afterparty on Endor.” You chuckled. “I was hungover for four days after that.”

“I’ve heard.” Poe chuckled. “That party lives in infamy among former Rebels, you know.”

“Oh I’m sure it does.” You grinned into the mug nursed between your hands.

You tried to ignore the way he looked at you, that absolute warmth in his eyes, but you feared it wasn’t going away any time soon.

After breakfast, you and Rey walked out into the clearing, where Soren was waiting, trying to meditate on one of the stumps up there. He opened his eyes when you stepped on a twig.

“Aunt (Y/N). Good morning. I didn’t know when you wanted to start.”

“How long have you been out here?” You asked with a gentle laugh.

His cheeks flushed. “Probably too long, to be honest.”

“How’s the meditating going?” You asked.

“It’s hard to get my mind to be quiet.”

“It was hard for me at first, too. They used to tell me to just quiet my mind and listen, but sometimes it’s easier to just count.” You told him, sitting on the stump beside him, legs crossed, back straight. “Deep breaths. Close your eyes. Listen to the leaves rustle in the trees. You don’t have to feel anything right away. It’s not something you can push, anyway. All you can do is listen, and if your mind won’t be quiet, just count.”

“Count to what?”

“Up from zero. As high as you need.” You told him, closing your eyes and taking a deep breath, listening to the rustling branches.

“What are we listening for today, Master?” Rey asked, voice smooth and even as she sat on the third stump.

“Just listening. Seeing what the Force has to say.” You replied, colors blossoming across the back of your eyelids. You listened, breaths long and even. Your focus was drawn to your heartbeat, steadfast in your chest.

You felt Rey and Soren beside you. You took another breath and felt your sister in her room, working on reports, Leia strategizing her next move in the war that had consumed her life.

You gently searched the others. The pilots, the mechs. Watched as Poe worked on a dilapidated X-Wing, sweat on his brow. BB-8 rolled past his feet. He glanced up the hill, where you were and suddenly, you disconnected, feeling like you were encroaching on his privacy. Some people didn’t take kindly to that kind of thing. You didn’t know the details, but you knew Poe had some experience with Force torture. Not that this was that, but you were sure he might feel a little weird about it, still.

You checked in on the rest of the camp, gently, and when you were done, you opened your eyes, the other two looking at you, ready and eager to learn.

You ran some basic drills, starting Soren with a stick and making him fence with you, also using a stick, both sabers still strapped to your belt. You did an agility course, testing his balance, his precision. He had a lot to learn, but it was clear you were right. He was meant to this. He was meant to follow your path.

***

A week passed. Then two.

Soren was progressing quickly, Rey even quicker. She was already moving bigger objects, but with Soren, you knew you’d have to start small.

You hauled a table out into the trees, along with a handful of trinkets, some rocks and other assorted parts no one would miss. You spread them on the surface of the table and encouraged Soren to stand at the end of it. You guided his hand to the surface of the table.

“Just what, move them?”

“Move one.”

“Which one?”

“Any of them will do.” You replied. “Don’t overthink it. This is the biggest hurdle. Once you can do this, you can do anything.”

“And what if I can’t?”

“Then we keep working on the other stuff and come back to this later,” you encouraged, all positivity. Right now, you had the luxury of training him with gentleness. There was no pressure for you to have a third Jedi. Two was already double what the Resistance had a few weeks earlier.

Soren nodded, concentration furrowing his brows. He pushed and you could feel the effort behind his muscles.

Finn and Poe were standing at the edge of the field, watching somewhat curiously while you and Rey worked with your nephew.

There was a faint buzz on the air and then nothing. The rocks didn’t move an inch. Soren looked to you for help.

“You’re pushing.” You said, noting the discovery, not scolding him in the slightest. “And sometimes you do have to push, but…try pulling.”

“Pulling?”

You held out a hand, and instead of forcing the rock to move, you let it rise, gently pulling it up into the air, where it floated around a few times before you set it back down.

“Pulling.” Soren repeated, and you could tell he got it. He reached a hand out, movements more deliberate, less desperate. He took a breath, let it out, and then, slowly, the rock rose into the air, lifted only by his concentration.

He gasped and the rock fell back onto the table.

“Yes!” You pumped your fist, jumping, wings fluttering at the small victory. “Yes! You did it!”

“I did it.” He breathed, still in disbelief. “I’m a Jedi…”

“We’re getting you there.” You assured him, a hand on his shoulder. “We’ll need to get you fitted for some robes before you know it.”

“On that happy note, lunch?” Poe suggested, motioning back towards the canteen.

“Lunch.” You agreed. “They probably need this table back, huh?”

“I’ll take it back.” Rey assured, using the Force to lift it into the air.

“I was gonna do that.” Poe chuckled, hands on his hips.

“With the Force?” You raised an eyebrow.

“Obviously.” He laughed, offering his hand, but you thought for a moment.

“I’ll be right down. Just need a second with my nephew.”

“Alright.” Poe nodded, taking a few steps away, but lingering not too far.

Soren was all smiles, still in disbelief at what he’d just done. You hugged him, beaming with pride not only in him, but in yourself. You had done it. You’d trained him. You’d helped get him to this point.

“I have something for you. I think you’re ready for it now.” You told him, stepping away and pulling one of your sabers off of your belt, the older one, forged from your mother’s bracelets and a whole lot of love.

His eyes fell on it and his jaw dropped. He shook his head. “No, I couldn’t possibly…we got that saber for you. It’s yours.”

“It was.” You agreed. “It’s made from your grandmother’s bracelets. This saber…it represents family, legacy. You are my family. And someday, you’ll be my legacy. ” You chuckled to yourself. “I think that statement would hold a lot more weight if I wasn’t literally five years older than you, but you get what I’m saying. This saber is meant for you. Someday, we’ll find you a crystal of your own and you can make your own saber like the Jedi of old, but for now, I would be honored if you’d wield this for me.”

You handed it to him, wrapping both of his hands around it to ensure he’d actually take it and he did, staring at the gift and taking a long, shaking breath. Tears welled in his eyes.

“Thank you,” he said, biting on the end of a sob.

You pulled him back into your arms, comforting him until he was well enough to join the rest of you for lunch. When you turned to walk back to the canteen, Poe was there, that soft, impressed smile on his face.

He touched your shoulder, eyes saying more than words ever could. His hand slid to the middle of your back, just above your wings, gently guiding you as you walked together towards the rest of your friends.

Stained Glass Silk

You shot up in the middle of the night, sweat beaded on your forehead, heart racing from a particularly bad nightmare, the kind that made your wings burn and the scar above your hip tingle.

Insidia.

All signs pointed to her being dead, but that sure didn’t stop you from dreaming about her.

You stared at the ceiling for a while before slipping out of bed, putting on some slippers and walking through the dim hallways to the canteen. There were a few people milling around, but that was it in the dead of night, just a few patrols and custodians, holding the place together while everyone else was fast asleep.

In the kitchens, there was a pile of clean dishes waiting to be put away. So, seeing as there was no one else around, you set to work, putting silverware in their allotted slots in the drawers, unbending a few fork prongs and scrubbing at particularly stubborn spots on spoons, putting them back in the washer to run again in the morning.

“Never thought I’d catch a princess doing the dishes, but stranger things have happened, I suppose.” Poe said, leaning in the doorway, a smirk on that handsome face. “Can’t sleep?”

“Never can, these days.” You shrugged, tucking a few more forks away in their drawer. “And I used to do the dishes a lot, for your information.”

“Why’s that?”

“Chores are chores. Everyone’s gotta do them at some point. Used to help me focus. I liked making sure all the little stuff was done so people could focus on the big stuff instead.”

“My mom used to say that.” He smiled softly, taking a few steps further into the room and reaching for some of the smaller dishes, making sure they were all dry before moving them to the overhead cupboard they belonged in.

The two of you worked in quiet, the sounds of clinking dishes accompanied by the occasional brush of his hands on yours when you reached for the same piece.

“Nightmares?” He asked. “Or is it still…hard for you to go to sleep?”

“Nightmares, mostly.” You confessed. “Sometimes Palpatine. His voice, his…laugh.” You shivered even thinking about it. “Most of the time, it’s Insidia. I know she’s dead. They both are, but…sometimes that doesn’t help all that much.”

He nodded. “What happened? Before you…you know. They say you got stabbed with a saber.”

“I would have died if that was the case.” You chuckled, shaking your head. “No wonder I was such a legend, with info like that going around. No, I…” You moved the fabric of your sleep tank, revealing the scar that still sparkled against your skin, just above your hip bone. “She stabbed me here. Twisted metal dagger. The sparkling is from the healing pod. It’ll go away eventually. And then she…cut off my wings with her saber. You can kind of see where, that shiny gold line there.” You pulled your wings under one arm, closer so he could see.

He stared at it, gaze hardening when he realized just what you’d been through. “Did it hurt?”

You nodded. “Worst pain I’ve ever felt in my life. Just absolutely…white-hot. I blacked out and…well, you were standing there when I woke up. I guess I’m lucky, more or less. Most Mariposans don’t ever grow theirs back after an injury like that. I think the sheer time I spent in that pod alone is what forced them to grow back.”

He reached a hand out, as if to touch one, but drew it back quickly, suppressing his curiosity for fear of stepping over one of those unspoken lines between you.

Surely, he didn’t know what a statement that was, what it would mean for him to touch them. It meant…something more to Mariposans.

Still, you took his hand, meeting his eyes before gently pulling his palm against the surface of your wings. You let him adjust to the feeling before guiding his hand across them, watching the emotions flicker across his face, tingles running down your spine at his featherlight touch.

“Maker, they’re so…they feel like silk. I thought…well, they look like glass, so…” He whispered. “Can you fly with them?”

“Short distances.” You nodded, gazing up at him through your lashes. “You’ve seen the extent of it by now, I’m sure. They’re not meant for travel, more like branch to branch. We used to live up in trees.”

Poe nodded, listening to every word. His free hand rose to your cheek, calloused thumb skimming across your cheekbone and causing your breath to hitch.

One hand on your wings, the other on your heart, or so the saying went.

“They’re beautiful.” He said finally, but he wasn’t looking at your wings anymore. He took a step closer, the hand on your wing floating down to your hip, pulling you closer, chest nearly flush with his. “Your Highness–”

“There you are, Princess. I was wondering where you had gone. BB-8 said he saw you wander down the hall, so I took it upon myself to make sure you were alright, especially being out and about at this time of night.” Threepio explained, his sudden appearance sending your heart racing. Sure enough, BB-8 was there, too, rolling into the doorframe. “Although, I do admit, I did not expect to find you here as well, Commander Dameron.”

His head swiveled from you, to Poe, and back. BB-8 beeped out an apology.

“Thanks, Threepio.” You chuckled. “I don’t know what I’d do without you, buddy. I’m alright. Just getting some dishes put away. I’ll head back to bed soon. And I’ll make sure Poe here gets to his bunk, too.”

“Oh, it is my pleasure! Have a good rest of your night. I’ll see you tomorrow, I’m sure.”

With him gone, you looked back up at Poe, whose thumb was still anchored to your cheek. He shook his head, chuckling before letting it hang down towards the floor, shame brewing in his chest.

You lifted his face with a gentle hand, your feelings unspoken, but hanging there in the air, in your eyes. You knew he felt it, too.

“You know…if the nightmares ever get too bad, my room is right down the hall. We could sit for a while. Talk about it.”

“I appreciate it.” You nodded, leaning forward and pressing a kiss to his stubble-covered cheek, just beneath the scar on his cheekbone. “Goodnight, Poe.”

He smiled, frozen by the simple gesture. His eyes sparkled in the dim kitchen as he watched you leave, your wings drifting like a cape behind you. “Night.”

Tags: @cap-lu20

#poe dameron #poe dameron x reader #poe dameron imagine #poe #poe x reader #star wars #star wars sequels #sequel trilogy #jedi!reader

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lostintransist · 21 days ago

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I've cried a lot today and just really want someone to care and have the power to make things easier... So platonic more on you hating getting frustrated with the people when they care for you, platonic this time since I am in no head space for romance.

Other head canons (romantic) linked here.

Sebastion Krueger:

“Krueger, one of your recruits is not doing well.”

Saffron stares at him at him from the doorway. Kreuger pinches his brow through his hood. He had only just sat down after deplaning from a hard job. Blood still crusted to his wrist where his shirt had shifted from his gloves.

“Right, show me where.” The office chair squeaked as he stood.

Saffron gave no response other than to turn and lead Krueger down the hall of the base. The dreary grey walls lined with plaques each with a name, a date, and a place of loss or last known communication. KorTac paid well. They had to for the constant additions to the wall of death as the recruits called it. The walk to you took far longer than Krueger expected. If he didn’t know Saffron’s tracking skills he would wonder if this was an excuse to remove him from his office for a time.

In the back corner of the building sits a nearly empty closet, the door is opened the barest crack. Shallow, heaving breaths escape through the narrow opening.

“Go. I will handle.”

Kreuger steps into the darkness, eyes categorizing the shapes to avoid stepping on you. Once he assesses the situation he sits. His knees creak as he settles his back against the wall. You don’t seem to notice the toe of your boots are firmly digging into his ass cheeks. His feet rest outside your hips.

He moves his hood up and away as he taps one side and then the other. He lights up a cigarette. The spark of his lighter shows you. Fingers gripping your hair so tight it lifts the skin from your scalp and forearms covering your face you are stuck in whatever world your mind and body have created to spite you.

Sitting with you takes a long time to calm down. He can tell when it is starting to take effect when you cough. You were an odd recruit. You were the only one he had trained in nearly ten years that did not smoke. Told him once that nicotine tasted like tar and didn’t make you feel better, so why subject yourself to it?

He liked you. Krueger couldn’t say that about most of the people he served with. That is why he continued to tap away. Left. Right. Left. Right. Left. Cough.

Your short heaving breaths were replaced with rib-crushing coughing and a hand waving in front of your face.

“Kreuger what the hell,” you coughed again. “Don’t you know not to smoke in buildings?”

Continuing to cough you could not tell him off for lifting your foot and snuffing out his cigarette on the bottom of your boot.

“Good, you are back.” He lets you pull your ankle from his hold and uses your other knee to lift himself from the ground. Holding out an expectant hand he speaks again. “Come.”

Confusion explains the delay but Krueger, already delayed in his mountain of paperwork, reaches down and pulls you to standing by your wrist. He doesn’t release you at your yelp of surprise or when you tug back. You nearly dislocate your elbow trying, and then trip over your own feet. He says not a word to you until you are tossed through the door to medical before him.

“Treat them,” he stated to your shocked face. “Anxiety, panic attacks, nutritional deficiencies, emotional support.”

He watched cooly from his position atop the stilts he called legs. When neither you nor the staff moved fast enough for his liking he tilted his head to the side enough to indicate displeasure and sent everyone scrambling. Krueger waited for you. He waited as a meal replacement shake was shoved in one hand and mental health evals in the other.

When you eventually left medical he walked you to your room.

“Light duty until medical clears you,” was all he said before he walked away, already wincing at the paperwork still waiting for him.

He refused any thanks you tried to give him, so instead you start carrying a lighter and a pack of his preferred cigarettes. Despite the lack of visual on his face, you can always tell when he is narrowing his eyes at you before plucking a single stick from the box.

Kate Laswell:

“Good night, Kate!”

She looks up blearily from her computer. Johnson, with his warm smile and clean fade, stands at the door of her office.

“Night Johnson, you have a safe trip home, okay?” Kate replies warmly.

“Always do boss. I would recommend checking the floor before you leave, I noticed a light on near the area where your newer staff are sitting,” Johnson tips his head back and to the left.

“Thanks, I’ll go check if someone left a light on. I’m about to head home. My wife said I’m only allowed to stay late two days this week. I’m not planning on using today as one of those days.”

Johnson chuckles before giving a jaunty salute and heading for the elevators. Kate stands, her hips sending sparks of pain up her back and down to her heels. God, no mentioned getting old could hurt like this.

She winced the first few steps out of her office until her left hip popped and Kate couldn’t prevent the gasp of shock and pain that escaped her mouth.

Your head popped up. You looked like a burrowing animal checking if death peered into your hole. Hands gently removed your headphones to settle around your neck.

“Did you need something, Laswell?”

Hand pressed to her left hip she limped closer to your desk.

“Yeah. Looks like I need help getting out of the building. My wife is expecting me and you need to get out of here.”

A stricken look passes over your face.

“I’m not done with my paperwork though-“

She cuts you off before you can say much more.

“Kid one thing you’re going to learn working here and on my team is that the paperwork will never end. It’s some kind of Sisyphusian hellscape.” She leans on the wall of your cubicle, “Don’t let the ink that never dries suck you dry.”

You look down over your desk, the three different case files open and miscellaneous other notes strewn across stickies. The swirling doubts about making it, learning enough to be good at the job, to not drown in the evil that leeches off the page and into your soul. It follows you home, the things you redact. You haven’t mentioned it. How can you? No one but your teammates would understand and sometimes you doubt it affected them the same.

“I think I’ll stay, get a bit more done,” you hedge.

“That’s not how this works. You are now under orders to help me down to my car and go home yourself. If I hear you arrive before eight tomorrow, I am going to make you leave at five. Hell and high water will come, don’t let it drag you down when it does.” Kate shifted, wincing with the movement. “Now grab your stuff, we’re going home.”

Her stern voice causes your spine to stretch, and your hands twitch to respond. Kate turned, stretching her leg as she walked. You did as she commanded, if nothing else she was your boss.

Bag slung over one shoulder you offer the other to Kate to limp to the elevator and into the bowels of the building to her car.

Leaning into the open door you give Kate your best impression of conformity.

“Have a good night Laswell. Drive safe.”

“You too. And I’m serious, go home. Get a hobby or a therapist. You’re going to need both to get through this job.” Her stern face doesn’t scare you as much in the stark light of the parking garage.

“Thanks, I’ll work on it.”

Pushing her door shut you think about her advice the long circular walk to your car. Maybe she knew how close you were to breaking. And maybe, her advice was solid.

Head Canon Masterlist | Masterlist

#sebastian krueger #cod krueger #kate laswell #cod #fanfiction #lostintransit writing #lostintransit

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mymainwastoocluttered · 2 years ago

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Birthday Cake (Malleus Draconia)

There's actually a tradition about birthday cakes back where the Prefect comes from.

Original idea by @strawberry-pie-thoughts

NOTE: I only write for female reader but everyone is welcome to read it!

On one hand, he’s really happy that he got invited to something, and by the person he loves the most no less. On the other hand, he’s a bit upset that she’s making an event on his birthday and depriving him of a nice outing to look at the gargoyles and celebrate. Sure, she sent him a very cute letter to wish him a good birthday together with the invitation for the event, but other than that, he has not seen her during the day. Not even once.

— (⁠ ⁠ꈍ⁠ᴗ⁠ꈍ⁠)

Malleus spent the entire day stirring a complicated mix of feelings inside his gut.

Lilia enjoyed teasing him for “pouting” far too much.

There’s still a mischievous smile on his mentor’s face as they walk to Ramshackle after classes. Silver looks uncharacteristically watchful—which is something coming from the ever so sharp knight in training—, but there’s no tension on his shoulders, no sign of threat anywhere. Sebek is, for the lack of a better word, jittery, and has barely directed a word to Malleus after he wished him a great birthday in the morning. While being known for not “having any chill”—the Prefect’s words—, today Sebek seems even more agitated than usual.

Malleus isn’t sure what to think about that.

Their odd behavior doesn’t get better as they approach the old dorm’s door, much to his confusion. Ramshackle is widely known for being the most peaceful place in Night Raven College, as it houses the ever so kind Prefect, whose kindness never falters whenever someone needs it. All students know that this is truly neutral ground, and that if they think it wise to defy the magicless student, they’ll be met with the fury of all seven Housewardens.

So how come these two are so nervous?

“Did… something happen?” he asks, finally, tired of their antics and still upset with the lack of his Child of Man on the day that is supposed to be his.

“No, something is about to happen!” Lilia laughs, floating above the ground like a giddy bat. “Go on, open the door!”

Malleus wants to ask, but he figures none will tell him. Not when even Sebek, who’s always tripping in his words to tell Malleus the smallest details of, well, everything, hasn’t said anything yet. Oh, well. If Lilia knows what’s going on, it can’t be too bad.

So he opens the doors.

And steps back, startled.

“SURPRISE!”

Standing there, with a big smile and a bigger glittery “happy birthday, Malleus” plaque, is his beloved Child of Man. She beams at him, shaking the paper a bit before throwing it over her shoulder so she can throw her arms around his torso and hug him tight. Behind her is a large group of people, from all Houses, all wearing party hats and holding confetti poppers.

“... what?”

A quick flash of light brings him back to his senses just in time to see Cater Diamond dive behind Trey Clover in between giggles. Malleus blinks a few times before a soft chuckle leaves his lips, arms finally moving to hug his dear Prefect.

He has heard of surprise parties, and Lilia has thrown a few over the decades he’s been alive, but he has never seen one like this.

“... thank you, this is the best birthday party I’ve ever had.”

“Wait until you see the cake!” (Y/N) grins up at him, leaving his embrace—much to his displeasure—only to take his hands in hers. “I worked really hard on it with Trey!”

The inside of the dorm is all decorated in black, white and Diasomnia green, with balloons and ribbons and “happy birthday” banners. There’s a lot of people, including people Malleus can’t believe are here—how in the world did she convince Leona Kingscholar and Idia Shroud to come will be forever beyond him. He allows her to pull him to the table where a beautiful two tier cake sits. The base is a dark gray that reminds him of a castle, and around the top tier is curled a very familiar dragon. On top of it sits a very beautiful gargoyle candle.

“I asked Crewel to enchant the dragon so it won’t go bad,” the Prefect explains as he takes in the cake, standing near his chair.

“I have no words to show how happy I am right now.”

“Ugh, stop your melodrama and get on with it,” that’s definitely Leona Kingscholar, who’s thrown on some couch like a ragdoll.

(Y/N) beams—she actually bounces a little in place—, asking someone to turn off the lights and light the gargoyle candle. Malleus knows this tradition, and claps along as everyone sings the birthday song. Some voices are louder and more enthusiastic than others, but none of them matter when his dear Child of Man is right by his side, allowing him to hear her clearly. Her cheers are the only one he hears when he blows the candle, the air leaving his lungs carrying his wish to become closer to the darling girl.

“Who is the first slice for?” the Prefect asks once the lights go back on, already taking off the candle and the dragon so the cake can be cut.

“The first slice?”

“Where I came from, you give the first slice of your birthday cake to the person you love the most!”

“Then it is yours.”

The best part of this birthday, as Malleus will remember for the rest of his long life, is the heavy blush that covers her cheeks and the blinding smile she offers him as she eats the first slice of his birthday cake.

From now on, all of his birthdays will have cake, so he can keep giving the first slice to his most loved.

#twisted wonderland #twisted wonderland x reader #twst imagines #twst x reader #x fem reader #malleus draconia x reader #malleus draconia #a series of birthday cakes

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monarcascension · 1 year ago

Text

the less they know | j.w

summary : You were always the kind of person to stay focused. You were determined to prove yourself in this new job and never let anything deter you from your path, that was … until you met Jung Wooyoung.

pairings: wooyoung x blk!femreader

tags: light fluff , angst, SMUT WARNING, foreplay, unprotected sex, vulgar language, creampie, MINORS DNI ♡

word count: 7.2K

Since you were a little girl, you were always interested in the fashion scene. Your grandmother would frequently watch fashion shows, whether on television or in person. Even designing clothes of her own. In fact, she was the one who taught you how to use a needle and thread in the first place.Thanks to her, your addiction to the art grew over the years, which led you to the heart of Seoul, South Korea for the Summer International Fashion Seminar. A home for artists, like yourself, who wished to put their works in the public eye. All of your accomplishments in your youth, made you the first Black woman and fashion creator to have ever made it to the Korean Division. Whether your luck went any further after this point, the feature itself was impressive.You worked your ass off every day to prove to everybody and to yourself, that you deserved everything you earned.

That was only the good part of it though.

Your nervousness was starting to overcome you little by little. This was your sixth interview this year with a company in South Korea and you were sure that it could possibly be your last if this didn’t go well. You had a dream of designing that you wanted to follow, and your parents sent you off on that quest in support of your journey, but for months you had nothing to show for it but half truths. Your mother would call and ask how work was going at your new job, and you would lie and say “Great!” almost half heartedly every time. You weren’t necessarily lying that you were working, which you had been — creating new pieces for yourself as well as filling your sketchbook with new designs for the future. Despite your lengthy background, despite your qualifications nothing ever worked out.

So, this company was your final hope or you would be leaving Korea for good.

Your leg shook violently in the chair as you stared forward at the empty seat behind the Director’s desk. Scanning over the structure, pictures of family and other knick knacks lined the wooden surface, making it known that it was clearly a space that was lived in and lively, which was not customary of most offices.

The other company buildings you visited were grand and uniform in design and color, but this one — still holding on to extravagance— had murals, pictures of staff, and plaques commemorating important figures. From what you could tell this was almost like a familial space, everyone had a bond with one another here. It was sweet to see, but it only made you realize just how alone you had been in Korea all this time.

You were pulled from your thoughts just as you heard the doorknob to the office click. You immediately stood to your feet as a woman stepped through the door, seemingly shocked by your presence. You greeted her with a polite bow and she returned the gesture.

“I apologize if I kept you waiting. I had to make some rounds throughout the department and lost track of time. It’s nice to meet you. My name is Director Yoo.” She said kindly, stepping around you to get to her seat. “Please, please sit.”

You retook your spot in the chair and re-adjusted so that you presented yourself well. You were perfectly dressed for the occasion, wearing a hand-crafted black plaid blazer that fit well against your frame; matching with a skirt and a nude turtle neck. It was formal, but also fashionable and eye-catching as well.

“Director Yoo. I appreciate you choosing to discuss this opportunity with me. I was happy to hear back from you.” You started, sweetly smiling at the woman.

“I must say, I was quite shocked to hear that you chose to apply here. What made you choose us?” She asked bluntly.

“Well, I have been in Korea for some time now and being in a foreign country you tend to do a lot of research on the things that are around you. Your company landed on my radar. So, the more I found out about you and the groups you have here it was an obvious choice.” You tried to explain with as much happiness as you could muster, hoping that it would hide your fear.

“I see..” Director Yoo spoke flatly. “I hope you don’t take this wrongly, but we.. don’t usually tend to higher foreign residents.”

You flet a cold shiver run across your body. Swallowing your saliva, and clearing your throat, you righted yourself to speak again. “Of course..”

“I’m well aware of the work that you have done. You’re extremely talented, however, it is only your Nationality that is an obstacle.”

“Director, if I may?”

She motioned for you to go on and leaned back in her chair, the leather stretching against the pressure.

“I’ve been into fashion my entire life. It’s who I am. And it’s everything that I have ever wanted to do. I applied at your company because I know that I’m good at what I do. Really good. I’m more than qualified. I understand that you take care of yours at home, and I respect that, but if you give me a chance, You’ll see that I’m trying to do the same. And I will work diligently to prove that hiring me erases all other obstacles for you in the future.”

Director Yoo stared at you as you spoke, intently taking in every word you said to her. It felt like your life was being analyzed in a weird way, and it made you nervous. As if you were being graded somehow without her ever seeing your work.

Suddenly, she sat up in her chair and rolled closer to her desk, clasping her hands together before letting out a soft sigh.

“We run a tight ship here. We work for the artists, and it's my job that I have the best of the best working on my team. They’re idols so their image is everything. Their image is our image. And we have to take care of that diligently or else we’ll be out of a job. Everything we do has to be quick and efficient. When I ask for you, you’re there. No If’s, Ands, or Buts. No distractions. Can you handle that?”

This woman was intense. That soft and sweet demeanor you thought she possessed was then replaced with business motive. She didn’t play around when it came to work, but you expected no less from the Head of the Fashion Department. You nodded your head quickly, accepting her challenge without fear.

“I’ll do more than my best.”

Standing from her seat, she walked to the other side of the desk where you sat and extended her hand. “Then welcome to the KQ family.”

You suddenly felt lighter as she said those words to you. Your shoulders affixing themselves to the light and feathery feeling now bestowed upon you. The opportunity to break down crying in front of her presented itself to you many times as you bowed to her with gratitude, but you maintained what resilience you had left. “I won’t let you down ma’am.”

“Good. We’ll finish the rest of the paperwork later. I would show you around myself, but we’re trying to finish prep for their comeback and we need all the hands we can get-“

“I can help!” You chimed.

The Director appeared confused at your eagerness and looked as if she was ready to shoot down your proposal, which made you feel guilty for speaking up in the first place, but she smiled and pulled open the door to the office.

“Let’s put you to work then.”

Following the Director through the KQ building, the two of you spoke in length about the expectations for this comeback as well as their concept. You didn’t know that much about Idol schedules, but from what you were being told, you definitely had your work cut out for you, and it excited you nonetheless. Taking the elevator up to the third floor, you were introduced to the calm chaos of the Art Department.

Racks of concealed clothing were parked outside in the halls or being loaded up by other employees, followed by them writing something on the labels in Korean. Some of them bowed at the presence of the Director, and looked confused at you but still greeted you warmly anyway before running past you to their next destination.

“We’re usually a little more organized than this, but it’s a little hectic today since we only have three weeks before the music shows. We were down a stylist so we are missing the finished pieces for one of their music show appearances. That is of the utmost importance and where you come in.” Director Yoo motioned you into one of the empty work spaces.

When you stepped inside it appeared like a dressing room combined with a waiting room with a vanity and a long body mirror, a couch and two side seats accompanied with a wall-mounted television and coffee table. In the corner was a rack of strewn about clothing and a desk with a large sewing machine and measurement map.

You took in the comfortable feel of the room , making note of everything at your disposal.

“Since it’s your first day, I won’t overwhelm you, but I want you to get used to things. The stylist left all of the equipment so use what you need. You’ll be working with Wooyoung today— he should be here in a moment. So take care of them. Any questions?”

“No- well, yes. One. I have complete creative control??”

“Anyone else's opinions would just slow you down in the moment. Just show us what you got and we’ll go from there. Good luck. No distractions!” The Director swiftly exited the room just as soon as she entered, leaving you standing in the center of the room with no idea where to begin.

It felt like you had been thrown in the heat of battle without a weapon, but if you didn’t find something quick, you were sure to be killed.

You placed your belongings on the couch, all except your sketchpad. Knowing what ATEEZ’s concept was, you tried to brainstorm something fast. From the research you had done on the group, you were privy to their style already, which gave you something to go off of. Since you of all people had the knowledge of what was hip, your pen started moving across the pad without hesitation.

“Excuse me?”

In the middle of you sketching, you heard a soft voice from the direction of the entrance. You quickly shot your head up from your paper and turned around to see—as unprofessional as it was to say— the most beautiful man you had ever laid your eyes on. You knew you shouldn’t stare, but it was almost impossible as he gazed upon you. His skin was a gorgeous light honey color. His jawline was chiseled to an inhuman perfection, accompanying his sharp nose and plump lips. He looked like trouble incarnate with long dark hair, but his brown eyes were so kind, you felt like they would suck you in within a matter of minutes if he stared at you any longer.

Shaking yourself free from your trance, softly patting your cheek as a nonverbal “pull yourself together”. You gave him a soft smile before bowing to him.

“I.. Hi. Hello. Sorry about that. I might have zoned out a little bit.” You chuckled nervously.

To your surprise, he laughed softly as he entered the room. “I noticed. You were staring at me for a while and didn’t speak. I thought I broke you for a second.”

That’s because you did.

But you didn’t say that out loud. “And you must be Wooyoung.”

“Gosh, what gave it away?” A sarcastic tone lining his words as he pulled his hair back behind his ears.

“The Director told me a loooooot about you.”

Wooyoung scoffed. “Waah. I don’t know if that’s a hidden compliment or an insult.”

“A compliment.” The two of you laughed for a moment.

“If I would have known I would be working with you, I would have prepared some compliments of my own.”

You grinned. “Well there’s still time for that.”

“You’re very pretty- I mean your outfit is. Pretty.” He stammered over his words, but tried to save himself and you laughed.

“Thank you. I made it myself. Which is exactly, what I’m going to do for you as your new stylist, so why don’t we get started?”

Throughout the rest of your session together, the conversation would flow as easy as it ever had with anybody else. While you dressed him like your personal doll, making him try on outfit after outfit in order to see your vision, he would hammer you with questions. Spilling jokes that would send you into laughing fits that had no return. It was non-stop. You don’t think you ever had this much conversation with someone since you came to Korea, but it felt nice. Being around him felt nice. Oddly, it was as if you were friends for a while instead of people who just met. It was so easy to talk to him, considering that he was an idol as well as a stranger to you. You would have thought he was snobbish in every way possible, but he just felt like a friend.

You had taken all of Wooyoung’s measurements and dimensions and finished up a good enough sketch that gave you an idea of how you wanted to style him, and he sat there with you and explained what kind of vibe he wanted to go for. You took all that information and drew it within minutes. It was complex, but doable. Portions of the design would have to be hand stitched, but that didn’t stop you.

“Alright, done!” You exclaimed proudly, flipping the sketchpad around to show him. “What do you think?”

Wooyoung kept his eyes on you the entire time, his fist resting on his cheek as he smiled. “Beautiful..”

You looked to him happily at the sound of his words and were met with those bright brown eyes flushing over every portion of your face. You thought he was referring to the drawing, but he was staring at you. Did he mishear you perhaps?

Your heartbeat was starting to pick up rapidly to the point you could hear it in your ears. You just met him mere hours ago, how was it that he managed to get you flustered so easily?

Laughing lightly to yourself with the hopes of trying to play it off as a joke, you set the sketch pad down and started gathering your belongings. “ I see why the girls love you, Jung Wooyoung.”

“Why’s that?”

“You're a flirt.”

“Here and there.” Wooyoung leaned back in his chair, working the corner of his lips up into a sly smirk while his head tilted slightly upwards. “But..I only flirt with the people I want.”

You believed that you had choked on air at that moment with your lungs seemingly collapsing in on themselves. From what you had learned about him since your conversation began, was that he was very up front with how he feels. He was one of the blunt ones in the group, but there was nothing that could have prepared you for that. A part of you wanted to believe that he was messing around, however the look in his eye was saying otherwise. He was staring at you like you were the only meal on the menu– his glare alone was a danger to you and you desperately needed to separate yourself from it.

Maybe all idols were like this with the new girls or the women that worked with them . Him flirting with you didn’t mean anything and even if it did, it didn't matter. He was an Idol and you were an employee with everything to lose. It wasn't like you could give into his advances anyway, if the two of you were even caught stealing sideways glances at one another, or touching each other in any way that was not becoming of an idol and staff relationship, it would be a disaster waiting to happen.

After months of agony you had finally managed to secure the job that you had been looking for to jumpstart your career, and nothing could get in the way of that. And a workplace affair was not on your bucket list of plans for your future.

“Boy, you play too much.” You played off Wooyoung’s statement once again, pushing the thoughts of his flirtatious notions to the back of your head.

No matter how unnervingly attractive he was. There could be no distractions. Not one. Not even him.

“Hey you two. We’re wrapping up for the day. Everything good here?” The Director’s voice came crashing into the room from the doorway, and you felt your heart lighten.

Saved by the bell. Thank god.

“Yeah! All done.” Quickly scrambling to your feet, you tossed your bag over your shoulder and fixed yourself accordingly. “I’m putting the pieces together tomorrow.”

“Perfect. You’re a lifesaver. Wooyoung. Hongjoong and your manager are looking for you, it's best you start heading out too.”

“Thank you, Director.” Wooyoung said, nodding his head in acknowledgment of the woman’s position and authority just before she walked away, leaving the two of you alone again.

You took the opportunity to try and weasel between the awkwardness brewing in the air, but you felt a light tug on your arm pulling you back. Your eyes landed upon Wooyoung who had your hand clasped in his. As strong as his physique was, the hold he had on you was gentle. The way the pad of his thumb brushed across your smooth brown skin sent goosebumps up your arm.

“W-Wooyoung?” You stammered, searching his face for some kind of reasoning behind his sudden actions. “What is it?”

And like he had just stepped out of a romantic movie from the 90’s, he brought the back of your hand up to his lips and softly planted a kiss in the center. The gesture set your entire body on fire. All of the gears in your brain halted for a moment, scraping roughly against the other as none of what you were experiencing made a single lick of sense. Not that you had the energy or time to make sense of it in the first place, but all you knew was that this shouldn’t happen. Right?

Wooyoung flickered his soulful gaze upon you once more. “Have a good night. I liked spending time with you today.”

Not knowing what else to say to him, you mustered up a smile through your obvious confusion and relative anxiety and bowed to him politely before pulling your hand out of his.

“Goodnight, Wooyoung.”

╚ ╝

When you arrived at your apartment, you collapsed in your bed almost instantly after finishing your nightly routine—plopping face down into your linens. The emotional weight of the day had completely tired you out, and you wanted nothing more but to sleep now. Letting out a thunderous, muffled groan into your bed sheets, you flipped your position to stare up at the ceiling.

Out of everything you had experienced today, only one thing— one person— was on your mind.

Jung Wooyoung.

And not the one thing that mattered which was keeping your job.

He kissed your hand. He flirted with you.

How could he be so careless to do something like that in public?

But he was so sweet. Gentle. Kind. Even staring up at the tall ceiling above you, you could perfectly trace out his smile with your eyes. The tender look he gave you when he called you “beautiful”. The spot on the back of your hand still tickled with the kiss he left behind, and you ran your fingers across it softly. His laugh made you weak in the knees and you could listen to it every day if you could. It made you laugh even thinking about it.

The words he said to you before you parted ways played on loop in the back of your head. You pondered for a moment if he was actually serious about them, but wiped the thought from your mind entirely.

You did not have the luxury for fantasies and what ifs. You had a job to do. The lives the two of you led were too different, continuing like this with one another would be dangerous. He was an idol. You only worked with him and nothing more. You could not allow yourself to be distracted by him any longer.

You had to come into work tomorrow focused.

And you did just that.

The next day, you came to KQ Entertainment a bit later than the other staff members at the request of the Director. You were more dressed down than yesterday now that you felt a little more comfortable. You wore a long sleeve, green, textured halter top with blue washed jeans that hugged against your waist, with green, suede sneakers you had made yourself. Your thick, kinky hair pulled into an up-do with wild strands falling across your forehead. Your makeup was done lightly, mostly highlighting your key features like your eyes, cheeks, and lips.

You greeted some of your co-workers as you passed them by in the hall towards your new office space. Flicking on the light in the still and empty space, you threw down your bag and immediately positioned yourself at the back of the room where you rummaged through the leftover clothing. Pulling a few pieces from the rack you folded them over your arm and turned towards the desk where you noticed something there that had not been there before.

Laying the clothes down on the table to get a better look, there had been a small rectangular box filled with the delicacies of Korean culture that you had grown to know over the half a year that you had been here, companioned with a beverage and a note that was written in the language left on top of it. Pulling the paper off, you put your months of studying to work and read the note.

You look even prettier with a smile on your face

so i hope this brings you one today, while i'm away

- Woo Young

So much for no distractions. You had just managed to pull yourself up by your bootstraps and insisted that you would not think about him again, just for him to go and do something like this.

You wanted to be angry , however you couldn’t help but smile.

“Ahh… Jung Wooyoung. You will be the death of me.” You ran your finger over the note and your heart fluttered.

You had never had anyone show you such kindness before. Regardless of his intentions, the gesture was sweet and you were grateful. Knowing that he was on schedule today saddened you a bit, but you had work to finish and now was the time to do it. Setting the lunch box he had gifted you to the side, you set your desk up with all of the equipment you needed and got to work.

Music played at a medium volume from the television across the room, giving you some kind of sound to work with as you attempted to create Wooyoung a dynamic look for his stage using the information you gathered from him yesterday. The sewing machine whirred as you raced against time, feeding it with a bright color that you imprinted onto the dark gray shirt you had found, which had taken a few hours at least to replicate it front and back.

Once it looked as good as you wanted it to, you cut the sleeves off of it, dipping down into the sides of the shirt so that the holes could give him some mobility while he was dancing. You would clean everything else up later, but your vision was coming to fruition. You continued on like this well into the late evening, and soon realized after almost pricking your finger with a needle, that you had not eaten a thing. Completely forgetting the meal that Wooyoung had left you hours before. You stood and admired your work, wiping the sweat off of your brow and nodded feeling accomplished with what you had gotten done.

Grabbing the box from the side table, you stepped out of the room and walked down the hall towards the break room that had a kitchen inside of it. There were a few lingering employees there, but it was mainly empty, not that it mattered to you. You stepped over to the microwave and heated your lunch before returning back to your work room, and to your surprise you found someone else there waiting for you.

You stopped in your tracks and peeked to the side to get a better look at them, but he did you the favor of turning around to greet you.

“Wooyoung? When did you-“

“I just popped in. Schedule ran a little longer than usual, but I wanted to check in on you. Something told me, you would try to work into the night if no one stopped you.” Wooyoung explained, looking you up and down from head to toe. “I see I was right.”

You snickered to yourself, walking back over towards your desk where you had been working. “Well, I have a job to do, fortunately enough for you. Somebody has to keep up with your image.”

“Sometimes work can wait. Look at you, you’re just now eating something and it’s almost eight o’clock.” He sounded as if he was almost scolding you, but more out of concern than anything.

You took the chopsticks apart that came with the meal, pulling open the plastic covering as your nose was hit with the most delicious aroma. “At least I’m eating now right?”

Wooyoung cursed under his breath and shook his head, “You’re really stubborn, you know that?”

You took a few bites of your food before setting the box to the side begrudgingly with a sharp sigh.

And for some reason, you snapped suddenly. “We only met yesterday and all of a sudden you think you know me?”

Wooyoung seemed taken aback by the tone in your voice, but for some reason you could not hide your growing frustration. “Well, I’d like to. But you won’t let me.”

“There’s a reason for that.”

“Why?” He asked sternly, furrowing his brows at you.

You laughed in disbelief . “Are you seriously asking right now? You’re an idol, Wooyoung. I work for you. I shouldn’t have even let you know as much as I have told you anyway..”

“If I cared about any of that shit, I wouldn’t have come here at all. I wouldn’t have asked you a single thing about your life. I meant what I said to you yesterday-“

“Jesus Christ..” You stood to your feet, completely thrown at his lack of understanding of your current predicament. “You don’t get it.”

“What??”

“This is so unserious. I am not having this conversation with you, Wooyoung! I have work to do.”

“Does anything else ever matter to you other than work?” Wooyoung retorted, standing to his feet now.

You quickly moved over towards the door and shut it. “Look, I don’t know what image of me that you have carved in your mind in the last twenty four hours, but you do not know me. I don’t know you outside of work alone. I can’t even believe that half of what you said yesterday was the truth or how many times you have said it to every other girl that works here with you.”

Wooyoung stepped closer to you, an uncontrolled fire burning deep inside of his gaze. You felt like you were shrinking in his presence alone the closer he got to you. Your eyes darted across his face, terrified of what his rebuttal to you would be.

“Ever since I saw you yesterday, I couldn’t take my eyes off of you for a second. I asked you every question under the sun just because I liked the way you spoke to me. I told you the dumbest jokes just to hear you laugh because your smile made me smile.”

“Wooyoung-“ You tried to stop him, but he continued speaking and moving towards you.

“I wanted you the moment you looked back at me. When you left me last night, all I did was think about you. Today, I couldn’t think straight without seeing your face. You have been the only thing on my mind from the moment we met. Time means nothing to me.”

Wooyoung was towering over you now. Your back was pressed against the curtains on the door’s window leaving almost no room between you and him. You hung onto every word he spoke like it was his last. They were tied together so beautifully that it was almost hard to refute them. You wanted to believe them, but none of his words changed your reality: the two of you couldn’t be together. You swallowed thickly, licking over your lips to soothe the dryness lingering there.

“This can’t happen, Wooyoung. We could lose everything if someone found out that the mere possibility of us existed. One scandal could ruin your career. My career.”

You were almost pleading with him at this point, you had worked so hard for this life only to have it threatened by the possibility of a prohibited moment of weakness. However, you could not deny that you did feel something for him, though it did not yet have a name. Maybe it was because you were lonely all this time and just needed someone to make you feel good, or maybe you were just desperate for attention but were lying to yourself to make you feel better. You weren’t sure.

But you felt something, you just couldn’t say the words.

“So they won’t know. They won’t have to.” His voice had lowered into a sweet whisper now that caressed your ears like a tender melody. Wooyoung pulled his tongue over his lips, flicking his gaze between your dark brown pools and your glossed pair. He placed a finger underneath your chin and tilted your head up to face him. “But if you tell me, right now, that you feel nothing for me…I’ll walk away.”

“I..” You desperately wanted to say the words. In fact you were trying to force them to come out, but your tongue could not forge the sentence in time. Your eyes, instead, we’re carving out the line in his lips and how much softer they looked up close.

You felt like your heart was going to pound out of your chest. The pressure of the moment building and building so fast that you couldn’t keep up.

Just say it.

“Nobody would know, right?” You exasperated.

Wooyoung nodded his head. “No one.”

As soon as he gave you the confirmation you needed, you pulled him in closer by the nape of his neck. Your lips crashing hungrily against the others like you had been waiting for this moment your entire lives. Your hand brushed through his dark tresses, gripping onto them as the kiss intensified. Your bodies pressed firmly against the other with no promise of letting go. You could taste his cool breath swirling in your mouth as his tongue pressed between your parted lips and claimed entry.

His strong hands found purchase on the back of your thighs after sliding over every curve in your frame. He pulled you up in the air, you instinctively wrapping your legs around his waist as he moved you over to a new— more comfortable location. To where, you had no idea nor did it matter to you where he chose. In the matter of seconds, you found yourself placed on a high platform of some sorts, completely stable against it and him. The cool surface he had you against being a dead giveaway that he had you against the vanity with him trapped right between your legs. The next thing you know you were tearing off his clothes. Removing the distressed denim jacket he had on and tossing it to the side, along with the dark graphic tee he donned as well. Each article of clothing hitting the ground with a thud somewhere. With his upper attire now removed, you could fully admire the true beauty of his skin tone — the way it shined in the light and melded beautifully against your own as you caressed his shoulders and chest. Meanwhile, Wooyoung started going for the buttons on your jeans, undoing the fastenings prior to tugging them off of your waist and letting them fall onto the floor, kicking them off to the side in one push.

Hands falling down the ripples of his abs and down to his dark colored sweats, you hooked your fingers inside of them and started to pull them downwards and Wooyoung assisted you, leaving him in only his briefs that showed the massiveness of his growing bulge.

“I want you..” You moaned into his mouth, breaking the kiss to speak, which Wooyoung took as an opportunity to dress your skin with his lips. Canvassing your cheeks and your neck with ticklish, pillowy love notes that made you smile.

“Tell me what you want baby hmm?” He cooed sensually, pulling back for a moment to look at you, taking note of your desperate and needy tone with a devilish grin. His hands ran up your thick thighs, feeling the warmth growing between them. His fingers lightly brushed against your lips, pressing into the fabric with his middle finger just to feel how wet you were. “You want to feel me like this?”

You groaned in response to his touch, biting down on your plump bottom lip as you watched him explore you. Wooyoung was enthused by your reaction, but even more so at the slickness he felt in your panties alone. You hastily nodded in response to his question.

“Fuck, you’re already dripping and I barely touched you yet.” Wooyoung brought the tips of his fingers up to his mouth and sucked them, which turned you on even more.

He kept his eyes on you the entire time he tasted you, taking those same two fingers and dipping them back into your crevasse, pulling your panties to the side while using his other free hand to hook one of your legs around him while the other remained spread, giving him a clear view of your pussy. Using the pads of his fingers he circled your clit, soaking the duo with your juices as you moaned out for him, slowly writhing in place.

You threw your head back from the sheer ecstasy and cried out at the ceiling above. “Ooh shit-“

“Look at me.” He commanded, bringing your focus back to him once more. “I want to see how pretty you look when you cum on my fingers.”

Wooyoung planted a soft kiss against your cheek just as he inserted his two digits inside of you, pushing past your slick walls and beginning to pump his wrist inside of you, picking up that speed and translating all the power into his forearm and then his entire arm. The room was filled with the harmonious sounds of your juices squelching against his hand and your pretty moans that were music to his ears.

“That’s it baby. Let it out..” Wooyoung coached into your ear, holding you tight while he watched his middle and ring finger appear and disappear inside of you repeatedly, fully coated in your liquids. “That shit feels good doesn’t it?”

“It feels so fucking good..” You cried out to him with a shaky voice. “Please don’t stop..”

The intensity of him pushing into you was almost too much for you to bear, but it just felt too good to have him pull back now. You wrapped your arm around where his wrist and forearm met and gripped onto him tightly, your toes curling at the sensation running through your body. You were teetering at the edge now— your eyes rolling steeply to the back of your head, your vision growing more hazy by the second. Wooyoung kissed the side of your head, your jawline, your neck rhythmically fulfilling your every desire.

You were growing closer to your end, every moan increasing in pitch and frequency. If there were anybody passersby outside the door, you were sure that they could hear you, but you almost didn’t care. It felt too good to hold back.

“Your moans are so pretty. I can’t wait to hear how good you sound when I fuck you…” Wooyoung growled into your ear.

You inched your hand up towards Wooyoung’s neck, cupping it just around his jaw and turning him towards you. “I want to feel you inside me. I can’t take it anymore..”

You searched his face for a moment. His eyes were glossed and practically sparkling with a deep, unsatiated lust. He had a need for touch— a thirst for it. A soul that required physical connection. That was a quality you both shared. Now that you experienced him, you couldn’t get enough and wanted more. If you didn’t have him now, you felt like you could explode. Wooyoung recognized this and pulled his fingers out of you, soothing your throbbing mound with the palm of his hand; giving you some time to breathe. He stepped back and removed his last article of clothing. His briefs hit the ground with a dull thud as his girth jolted from the seams, pointing stiffly towards you. Your mouth started watering at the sight. His dick was just as pretty as the rest of his body and the size fit him perfectly.

Inching towards you, the man pulled you off the surface of the vanity by your waist and eagerly flipped you around to face the mirror. With your frame slightly bent over the counter you saw him snake himself into the cusp of your neck, moving the thick strands of your hair out of the way so that he could see your face. “I want you to watch yourself.. don’t look away.”

You couldn’t believe that you were doing this. Tucked away in a dressing room with an idol. With him. At your own place of work. As much as you wanted some semblance of shame to come, it just never did. As all you could think about in this moment was him taking you and equally how bad you wanted him. You were reminded how good this moment truly felt when he planted a kiss on the exposed part of your shoulder and slowly eased his way inside of your slickness. Your mouth fell agape as did his; your tight walls gripping around the curve of his inches the more he pushed inside of you. His length fit you perfectly, as you completely gloved his inches.

“Fuck..” he whined. “You feel so good.”

With him so close, you could smell the freshness of his cologne. It was strong and commanding, but also hypnotic in many ways. His breath capes your neck, making your hairs stick up on end. His deep, guttural groans as he started stroking inside of your moist cavity only triggered your own moans. And still you did as he instructed you to and watched him fuck you so lovingly. The vanity rocked underneath your weight, causing you to slightly shift off balance and grip onto the table so it did not move. Wooyoung started to pick up his pace, the force of him hitting you from behind, sending your ass colliding against his pelvis in thick waves. He pulled back, catching the force head on as he reached forward and grabbed a handful of your coils and pulled your head back just a bit to where you can still see yourself in the mirror.

“Mmm, you’re such a pretty fucking whore for me.” Wooyoung chuckled lowly. “Look at how good you take that shit.”

The sensation was overwhelming your senses. Your walls pulsated across his thick member, releasing and gripping him constantly. Still reeling from when he was fingering you just a few minutes prior, you could still feel yourself coming closer and closer to your inevitable demise. The pressure in your abdomen was building like a dam about to burst. Even with the stamina that you two had, you could feel that he was close along with yourself. His breath was beginning to hitch and grow more rapid than before. You could feel his dick twitching inside of you as well even with the strength of his pumps.

You dared to stare at him amidst the euphoria you were experiencing out of curiosity as well as purely being enamored with the beauty of the man before you. You watched the way his chest rose and fell from his heavy breathing followed by the intensity of his orgasms. Sweat beads across his skin, giving way to the light that shines overhead. It was more pleasurable for you to know that he was enjoying himself as much, if not more, than you were.

Your lips curled upwards, licking across your own as Wooyoung sang your praises for taking him so well. Especially since it wasn’t just coming from anyone. Despite the circumstances of how you may have gotten here, you knew that he felt that this was more than just sex. You weren’t just engaging in a little hit it and quit it, no, it meant more. The purest form of connection that any person could ever experience, especially, when it stemmed from deep yearning – hoping that each other would wake up to the truth. There was no turning back from this moment forward.

“Fuck, I’m about to cum!” You exclaimed in a huff, urging him on as his thrust kept pumping into your tight walls, and his grin grew wider as he felt your coming climax brewing.

“That’s right, be a good girl and cum for me.” He coaxed. You felt like you were on cloud nine as you coated his dick with your juices. He leaned down into you, pressing your stomach against the table, and wrapped his arm around your shoulders and gripped your neck so roughly that you could see the veins in his arms poking from beneath his sandy skin.

Your moans were broken and incomplete, forming into a ball of nonsense tumbling from your mouth. You put the last bit of your energy into giving him everything you had, bucking your hips against his length.

“Cum in me baby..I want all of you. You primed softly. You didn’t know what came over you just then as you had never uttered those words to anyone before, but you just couldn’t control yourself in the moment and neither could he.

Sending his hips forward in powerful bursts of passion, Wooyoung growled hellishly into your ear the closer he got to his own end. The fullness of his climax painting your insides like his own personal canvas. You came with, riding out the last of your cum, before you dropped to the table, digging your nails into the wood and scratching against it from the final feeling of release. All your pent up frustrations over the last few months flowing down your thighs and onto his inches.

A light laugh escaped his lips, sighing as he closed his eyes and hovered over your weakened and fragile body.

“Do you think they’ll know?” He asked playfully.

You let out a half-hearted chuckle. “I guess we’ll have to find out.”

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