#i burned myself by accident today but it could have been so much worse if i didn't act quickly | Explore Tumblr posts and blogs

yesimwriting · 4 years ago

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The Needs of Pain

A/n as promised,,, here is my gift to you bc I finished ap gov today :))

The darkling x heartrender!reader story based on the whole ‘no one but me can hurt you’ thing :))

Warnings: sexual innuendos,, attempts to sexualize pain if you squint, kinda lemon-y

I kinda want to write a smutty part 2 let’s see lol

Summary: after a training injury, Kirigan reveals how he views the dynamic of your relationship and figures out how to best help you work through the pian

In an odd way, the most painful part of my injury had been the wound on my pride, not my shoulder. Though the pain that begins beneath my collarbone and continues down my left shoulder is not exactly pleasant. I can’t bring myself to pity myself too much as I stare at the extent of my burns. There’s a war going on. People die, people lose loved ones, I have to tolerate pain for an hour or two before a healer can be sent to be.

I told Genya I’d be fine in the medical wing, but she insisted that I wait for a healer to be sent to me. The people here look up to me, if news of my injury got out, especially considering it’s a training wound, morale would take a blow we can’t currently afford. Genya had looked relatively sympathetic when she told me that many healers were occupied considering how difficult training had been and I had told her I could bear the weight.

Now, in my room, staring at the basin full of water, I’m starting to regret my desire to be self sacrificing. I dip the towel in the water, squeezing out the excess before daring to dab the fabric on the outer edge of the wound. The feeling is fire against my skin all over again. An instinctual curse leaves me as I drop the towel on the counter that surrounds the basin.

Arthur hadn’t meant it. I can still hear the frantic apologies tumbling from his full lips. He should have been more focused on the task at hand, he should have never stopped to look at me, at the way I could control so many living things at once. In some odd sense, his distraction had been a compliment. Many of the girls here would sell anything to have Arthur’s attention, even if it resulted in such a careless mistake.

I grimace, picking up the towel and preparing to start again. I should at least clean it before the healers have to deal with both a physical injury and an infection. The sound of my door flying open and then shutting angrily is enough of a distraction for me to accidentally dab the towel against my skin too harshly. I curse again, turning my head towards the bathroom door. Did Genya exaggerate the severity of my wound? Are the healers that desperate to get to me?

I turn on my toes, towel forgotten by the basen full of water as I approach the door that connects my room with the bathroom. “I’m--” Words meant to calm a frantic healer stick to the back of my throat as soon as I register all the black in the room. General Kirigan. Great. He no doubt heard about my injury after prying it from Genya and now he’s here to scold me for the childishness of it all. To be injured because a boy and I just couldn’t help ‘make eyes at each other’. All he does is insult my refusal to become bitter just because I was born possessing power.

“You’re what?” His words are a different level of callous, darker than the shadows he creates with the will of his mind alone. “An idiot that let herself be sent back to her room instead of demanding to see a healer?”

That’s an odd thing for him to focus his anger on. At least it’s not fully directed at me. On instinct, I half turn, attempting to hide my injury from his piercing eyes. My instinct tells me he should never see me so mortal. “Genya recommended it,” my words are determined yet calm, “It’s such a small injury it isn’t worth risking everyone’s morale. A healer will come here when one is available.”

His face tightens in what must be some kind of disgusted disbelief. “Foolish girl--have you no instinct for preservation?”

Every decision I’ve made since being injured made sense before he spoke to me. The fierceness of his voice leaves my face warmer than it was a moment ago and reminds me of the stem of my dislike for him. General Kirigan speaks and I am left a clumsy child. “Some things are more important than one’s self.” I expect he’ll turn that into something else to mock or belittle about me. “And it’s not a grave injury it’s barely--”

The distance between us seemed so great less than a second ago, but he’s closed it so quickly, grabbing my left wrist and extending my arm forward so that I can’t hide anything from him. “You’re burned.” There’s the slightest bit of surprise coloring his words along with something else I can’t interpret. “How did you get burned?”

Kirigan doesn’t know. My stomach knots, anticipating embarrassment. “Training incident--I was standing too close to an Inferni.”

His grip on my arm tightens. I grimace as he pulls me forward with no regard for my injury. “Who?” The voracious way he says the word leaves my thoughts trembling. He is a void of darkness, starving for a victim to snuff the light out of.

When my thoughts settle, I cannot bring myself to tell him the truth. “I didn’t see, I was distracted by the burning.” I exhale slowly, desperate to escape the flames behind his eyes the way I could not escape the fire of earlier. “It doesn’t matter, I’ve been injured worse in training.” His hold on my arm doesn’t loosen, I glance down at his hand, his firm grip on me somehow worse than the burn. “You’ve injured me worse in training.”

“I may push you, exhaust you, and leave you mad--but I have never done anything that comes close to--that!” The last of his words carry themselves louder than the rest.

If the skin of my shoulder wasn’t so sensitive I’d try fighting his tightening grasp. The accusation on my part had been a little much, but it was meant to serve as a reminder that he’s not one to care about my comfort or well being. “Why does it matter?” I can’t bring myself to meet his gaze. “You’ve never cared about any of my injuries before.”

Kirigan releases my arm in a stiff trance, raising his hand to brush his thumb down my cheek. The contact is reminiscent of an extremely different moment. “The first night here you only let a few tears escape you when you were convinced that no one could see them. Do you remember how I turned and wordlessly wiped them away?” His gesture had not been comforting then and it isn’t comforting now. He never wanted to comfort me, he wanted to assert some strange power over me. “I let those tears fall because they were because of me and I knew it was for the best.” I say nothing, letting his thumb ghost tears that will not come. “The moment I discovered you, what you could be, you became mine.”

“I am no one’s.” The reaction is instinctual, a pride my mother instilled in me. My voice is too loud, too brash. “I am my own.”

I brace myself for his anger, but all I receive is the slight relaxation of his lips. “It’s things like that give you so much potential in other ways.” His voice is a jagged rock caressing my skin, not minding the scrapes it leaves behind. “You’re a fair plaything, as well as useful.”

He’s speaking so gently his voice borders on vulnerable. Something in me warms, but I can’t tell why. I know that Kirigan finds joy in my discomfort--why else would he belittle me so often? “The healer will be here soon.”

“Yes,” he makes no move to leave, instead Kirigan grabs my wrist again, forcing me to turn so that he can analyze the extent of my burn, “Which is why I will ask you again…” I try to catch his gaze, but his stone stare is focused on my burned shoulder entirely. “Who did this?”

“I told you.” He can never know. “It was a training accident.”

“And someone is responsible.”

I let out a breath, tired of feeling so incomplete. I just want to be healed and go to sleep. “Why does it matter?” His fingers trail up my arm patiently, my body betrays me by shivering. “Accidents happen, you’ve put me in more risk than--”

“I’ve always intended to break you one way or another,” his voice is more supple than it’s ever been before, “Your goodness is too tempting to not tarnish.” He turns my wrist over easily, ignoring my slight wince. “But if someone else were to do it…” Kirigan trails off, expression tightening in a way I can’t read, “I don’t let others break my play things.”

Some strange resolve in my chest cracks at that. “Kirigan--”

“Who are you protecting?” He moves his free hand, placing it without reservation on my shoulder. “Not telling me will only make it worse.”

Thoughts of Arthur paying for such a small mistake leaves my stomach rolling in guilt. “Make what worse?”

His expression tightens again. I wait for some kind of rebuke. Kirigan’s lips part as if he expects to criticize my naivety, but instead of speaking he turns sharply. He doesn't release his grip on my wrist as he leads me into my bathroom.

“What are you doing?”

Kirigan ignores my surprise, releasing me to pick up the towel I was so quick to abandon. “If you’re too good to take a healer from someone, you should at least avoid infection.”

“I’m not an idiot, I was cleaning it.” The sharpness of my tone is ignored, Kirigan simply places one hand on my forearm to keep me in place. “Wha--”

He brushes his thumb over my pulse gently in an effective attempt to silence me. I part my lips in hopes of protesting, but something odd reflects across his eyes. It must be some trick of the light because his expression seems...hesitant. Maybe even concerned. And then cool fabric is pressed into my burn. I bite my tongue so hard I’m surprised it doesn’t bleed.

“Saints.”

His expression shifts to that of almost amusement. “I think I’d like to hear you curse in a,” he exhales softly, fingertips trailing up my forearm, “Slightly different scenario.”

The shock of such a bold innuendo clears my mind from thoughts of pain. But the most startling thing is that the innuendo isn’t entirely unwanted. In the wake of my surprise, he presses the wet towel into my wound again. I fight against a grimace, but that doesn’t go unnoticed by Kirigan. Instead of mentioning it, his free arm touches my uninjured shoulder. For the first time since he’s come here I’m aware of how improper my attire is. I changed out of my starched kefta and into a silk nightgown in order to leave my shoulder unbothered. Genya had helped me change, bearing all of my grimacing and pained curses.

I should push him off of me. Kirigan can get away with a lot because of his status, but I by no means have to allow something like this. I should not feel shy, I should not be embarrassed. He’s the one that’s out of line. I look up into his eyes, prepared to yell at him for being so out of line. But when I meet his eyes, I see something so un-monstrous I am left breathless. There’s a gentleness to the way he tilts his head downwards, eyes never leaving mine. Is he asking for permission? Permission to--to what? I stay frozen as his lips brush against the unmarred side of my collarbone. His touch is almost enough to make me forget pain ever existed. He pulls away enough that I can feel his breath against the base of my neck. Thoughts I’d never dare speak are banished as the towel presses against my skin again. My face cringes immediately, but he’s quick to press his lips to the base of my neck, lingering kisses melting into my skin.

“I thought you said you were fine.” His chiding is half-hearted, whispered between two brief kisses against my bare ski.

He dabs the towel on the burn again, but before I can think to complain, his lips are against my skin again. This time, his lips part slightly allowing his teeth to graze over my pulse. Kirigan pulls away slightly, expression hardening, “I’m almost sorry about this part.” His words leave him in a whisper as influential as sin.

“What part?” My voice feels foreign in my throat.

Kirigan doesn’t reply, but then I feel the sharpest pain yet. The towel is cleaning the worst of the burn, the ruined patch of skin that will never recover without supernatural intervention. The gasp I let out is that of a bird with shattered wings. A cry forms in the base of my throat, but before it can leave me, Kirigan’s teeth bite into the skin above my pulse. The pained sound is reduced by my shock, twisting in an odd combination of some kind of pained sound and something dangerously close to a moan.

He releases me with one last soft brush of his lips, straightening his back and retracting the towel. “There.” Kirigan drops the towel onto the bathroom counter. “It wasn’t that bad, was it?”

I can still feel the ghost of his lips, tongue, and teeth against my skin. I understand now. Each kiss had been a way to distract me, to lessen the pain. Something odd swells in my chest as I try to will my eyes to stop watering in pain.

Kirigan presses his lips together, pressing his hand against my cheek again. His thumb brushes the few stray tears that escape me. “Don’t cry,” his tone is pure velvet, “I won’t tolerate tears in your eyes caused by anyone else.” He tilts his head oddly, hand sliding down my cheek before gripping my jaw, “I can provide reason for your tears if you’d like.”

Inhaling deeply, I continue to stare at him. Today has been so sudden. He’s flirted with me through strangely sexual insults and threats before, but never has he been so forward about it.

“I’m fine,” I force my voice to remain clear. He nods once. A soft rap at my door has me turning away from him. “The healer--I shoul--”

“Come in,” he calls, voice clear and leaving no room for argument.

My eyes widen. To be caught with him here could be detrimental for my reputation. Kirigan pulls away, something sharp playing at his features, something almost humorous.

He leaves the bathroom like this is his own room. “Her wound is clean, work quickly.” I walk out of the bathroom in a strange trance. Kirigan’s gaze lands on me as I enter the main part of my room, “I need her at her full strength for what I have planned.”

There’s a heaviness to his words, a weight that tells me he means more than what his words imply. Goosebumps erupt across my skin as I try to banish the thoughts of his mouth against my skin between inflictions of pain, blending together to create the most intense sense of fight or flight I’ve ever experienced.

Kirigan begins to approach the door to my room. “I’ll be checking on her later.”

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lubdubsworld · 3 years ago

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Perfect Imperfections.

Jeon Jungkook x OC

Genre : Arranged Marriage AU! Angst! Explicit Sexual Content.

Rating : 21+

Warnings : Ableism , Chronic disability. OC has limited use of her left leg, Emotional infidelity? Mild Cheating ( nothing very physical.. a kiss or so )

Summary : Marrying Jungkook is a mistake. Falling in love with him? Definitely the worst exercise in masochism .

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[ This is nothing but me indulging my love for writing bad cliches. That is it. Its literally a fest of cliche k drama tropes]

Chapter 1

After the accident, my life had become something of a stagnant pond.

Everyday began much the same.

The alarm, mild but not jarring. Not very shrill but definitely insistent, sweeping away any lingering traces of sleep. I blinked awake, cobwebs of exhaustion still marring my vision but a few deep breaths, a few more blinks and I was awake .

And now came the harder part.

Getting my legs to work.

It never got better, despite the many years that I’d spent in physiotherapy. All it really did was stop it from getting worse. Or maybe I’d just gotten used to the pain at this point.

Deep breaths helped. Sometimes.

But not today.

“Mrs Jeon?” The familiar voice made me jump a little.

“Sana...” I said, relieved. “ Could you come over? Seems like I’m going to need some help today.” I laughed nervously, gripping the sheets harder.” Could you help me sit up?”

The girl moved closer, feet nimble and quick and sure and i felt my throat clench in envy. I swallowed it down though, just the way I swallowed every bad thing that came my way.

It had been eight years ago.

A fall from a fifty feet ravine. Cuts and scrapes all over my body, abrasions all over my torso. And legs that had absolutely shattered on impact. Multiple fractures. Motor Nerve Damage on my left leg.

The skin stitched together. The bones grew back.

But the nerve damage stayed.

I wasn’t completely helpless. I could walk with the brace. Slowly and with a mildly awkward gait but I could walk. Even better if I was using crutches.

But it wasn’t something I could hide.

People looked at me and that was the first thing that they noticed.

The girl who couldn’t walk.

I sat still, gripping the edge of the bed as Sana carefully grabbed the brace and helped me put it on. I watched as she carefully set the loops in place, fixed the velcro and finally helped set my toes in place.

“Thank you.” i whispered and she nodded.

“Mr. Jeon left early. He said that he won’t be home tonight.”

I smiled a little.

“I’m sorry. I know you don’t want to be caught between us. It must make you feel uncomfortable.” I said .

She looked surprised but quickly ducked her head

“No, Mrs. Jeon.”

I sighed.

“You may leave. I’ll come down soon.” I said quietly.

How handsome he looked, in that beautiful dark suit. How strong and handsome and ...whole.

Right next to a framed article about us from a magazine.

Jungkook ran marathons and trained as a boxer. He worked as the managing director at a steel manufacturing unit . Spent his days overseeing workers in the smelting units, and everyone knew that it wasn’t uncommon to see the Jeon heir, shirtless and sweaty and covered in dirt and getting down and dirty with all the other workers as the ore got delivered.

Someone like that... Someone that perfect.... Deserved a woman who would be an equal. Beautiful and graceful and perfect. And he had had her. My sister. For three years, I’d watched my sister and Jungkook be the perfect couple . Deeply in love and so happy.

I watched her leave, gently closing the door behind her, before shifting my gaze to the large portrait on the opposite side of the wall. It was a picture of my husband and I taken on the day we got betrothed.

What they hadn’t counted on was how greedy our parents could be.

Jungkook was the younger son. And his father had long written him off as unreliable. He was wild and headstrong. Had his own ideals and morals. Wouldn’t really bend to his father’s will. So his brother was the one who would be set to inherit the company.

And my father , with his billion dollar empire wasn’t going to give away his precious daughter and all of her inheritance to a paltry second son.

Jungkook’s brother had married my sister. And Jungkook had been forced to marry me. A comedy of errors , except it wasn’t really funny and no one was laughing.

I swallowed. That was seven months ago. The first few weeks had gone in stony silence and hushed whispers. I knew he was talking to my sister. Knew she was sobbing in despair on the other end. My sister and I had never gotten along. And now, she had a genuine reason to despise me.

Three months into marriage he had a small accident at the Manufacturing Unit.A small fall, not that far. Ten feet or so, but he’d crashed into a steel structure on his way down. He had a dislocated shoulder and some flesh wounds. Not that bad.

But my entire body had gone ice cold at the news, when i first heard it.

It was a brutal sort of realization.

That perhaps I wasn’t as indifferent to him as he was to me. Six weeks, with him had changed things. He didn’t talk much, other than the bare minimum but I didn’t hold it against him. I helped him anyway I could. Typed out emails for him. Helped him eat and change.

Hands brushing and time spent together meant tension. And a shift in the way he looked at me, sometimes. I noticed, wasn’t sure if I could act on it. But he was still my husband. And I didn’t really want to spend the rest of my life celibate.

So, even though it was so unlike me... I’d made the first move. Linked my fingers with his. Brushed my lips across his. A gesture that meant a hundred things. A touch that invited more. And he must’ve wanted it, at least physically. Because he indulged me. Gave me a glimpse of heaven on his bed.

And yet, six weeks of being as close as two humans could be didn’t change much.

We were strangers who slept together. Who appeared in public together. Who did everything our family expected of us. And I wasn’t sure how to bridge that awkward gap between us. Jungkook was a fiercely physical person. His free time was spent in the gym , or cycling or hiking.

I couldn’t walk across the room without having to grip the walls for support every few minutes.

Could anyone blame him for being bitter? For being distant? For not knowing what to do with me?

And in all this time , I’d only learnt a handful of things about my husband. How he felt on top of me. How he sounded when he came, how he looked eyebrows furrowed as he talked into his phone and of course, how little he cared about me.

Yes, we would have sex. Yes, he bought me a couple of gifts when he was overseas. But otherwise his heart belonged to my sister. It wasn’t something he hid.

As the days passed, I realized that it was time to keep myself safe. That I couldn’t show him all of me anymore. He was careful with me, guarded and secretive because he was smart. He didn’t want me to know anything about him.

There was a reason. There had to be.

So the best thing to do would be to do the same. Build that distance between us. This was going to crash and burn someday and I had to

And the past few weeks, he’d been busy with more deals. Some kind of MoU with some supplier had gone south and they were looking for different suppliers. Jungkook was busy. I hadn’t seen him in ten days.

And now apparently he had come home and left without so much as seeing me.

Sighing, I moved to the garden, walking slowly to the marble bench set under the large sweetgum tree. I settled down , sighing. I ran a palm over my belly, soft and hesitant.

I was two and half months along. It didn’t show...thanks to the oversized clothes I wore. But it wasn’t the kind of thing you could hide forever. I wasn’t sure why I started hiding it in the first place. It was just that.... I knew that no one would be happy for me. My family would be ecstatic but for the wrong reasons.

I could already imagine .

Finally. Now he can’t leave you.

I felt sick to my stomach at the thought of it. At the thought of someone talking about my baby like some sort of handcuff to lock Jungkook in.

I would have to tell him. Of course. But I didn’t know when or how . I didn’t want to hide it from him. There was no point. But ... I wasn’t quite sure i wanted to see that look of helpless disappointment in his face.

The sound of his car drew me out of my reverie and I startled, glancing over at the wide driveway. I glanced at the time . It was a little past eleven in the morning. What was he doing here?

“Leah! Get inside!” Jungkook’s voice rang out and I jumped.

“Jungkook?” I stared as he all but jumped out of the car rushing to me.

“Come on.. get up.”

“What’s going on..?” I asked, heart pounding as he gripped my elbow, drawing me into his arms.

“Dad fucked up. Got mixed with some shady bastards and apparently, they’ve put a hit out on me and hyung.”

My heart dropped.

“What?!!” I choked out, stunned. “ Jungkook...” My fingers curled over his chest, clutching the

“Don’t worry... we know who it is and we have guys of our own. They’ll take care of it. No one comes for a Jeon and lives to tell the tale. I just wanted to make sure you stayed in. Don’t go anywhere. there are guards all over the place. but i want you to stay home. Okay? Just till this blows over?”

I flinched, legs aching fierce as he led me up the stairs and he stared at me, eyes dripping with worry. The look was so foreign....so unlike the indifference I was used to that I could only stare.

“Are you alright?” He asked urgently and I nodded quickly, hands curving over my stomach instinctively.

“You’ll stay here right? With me...?” I asked softly and Jungkook hesitated.

“I... I need to go check on Lisa.” He said stiltedly and I froze at my sister’s name.

“She’s with her husband, right?” I asked sharply, anger building out of pure fear. “ Why do you-”

“Don’t question me. Go in. Now.” He said quickly and I frowned.

“You don’t have to go there. She has a husband of her own.” I said quietly, voice shaking.

“I have to. I... I have to just go make sure she’s alright.” He snapped angrily and I curled my fingers into fists.

Apparently, even when there was a very real threat to our lives, he would rather risk my life and his than let go of his obsession for my sister. i wanted to vomit. My skin felt clammy and my heart raced. I imagined him doing this when we had a kid....risking our child because he can’t stop thinking of her.... And he would do it..... Of course he would.

“Then go.” i snapped, tears filling my eyes . I yanked my arm out of his, stumbling a bit.

Jungkook looked shocked.

“Leah...” He reached for me but I pulled back and away.

“Go to her and don’t you dare come back here.” I screamed. Jungkook stiffened.

“Leah... enough.”

“You’re right. I’ve had enough . Of your dirty pining. Of you. She’s married for god’s sake. To your brother. They’re together. Its over and done with. Why can’t you just accept it and move on?!!” I choked out. My chest hurt.

“You knew I loved her when you married me.” He snapped back and I laughed in disbelief.

“Yes. And you knew I’d break someday. That I’d someday have enough of you treating me like I was disposable. Isn’t that why you kept at it for so long? You wanted me to be the one break things off right? So you could get out of your father’s anger...unscathed. Well, guess what. You got your wish.... I’m done!! “

He didn’t reply.

“Go inside. I have to go.” He said softly.

I watched as he turned on his heel and stalked back down the driveway.

Was it supposed to hurt this bad? My heart felt a bit like it was cleaving in two. Had I really just told him I had enough? What did that mean? Was I going to leave him? I felt my head spin , worry and fear laced with disbelief.

Someone was out to kill him? How could he be so flippant about it?

I shook my head. The Jeon’s were a weird bunch. Although they were one of the richest families in our society, they lacked any of the charming social graces that came with it. For years, everyone had kept them at arm’s length because while all other families had aristocratic roots and beginnings, the Jeon’s came from a background of mining iron ore and making steel : a rugged and dirty business.

The only reason my father had agreed to

And was I really going to leave him? where did I even begin? I couldn’t leave. I had no home to go to. My parents would take one look at me and send me back to Jungkook. I felt like a prize fool. I was stuck here. For eternity. That was all there was to it.

A decade ago, I’d had a future. But that evening on that mountain trail had changed my life forever. I was , for all intents and purposes disabled. I couldn’t just walk out of here and build a life for myself. I wouldn’t last a day.

I dragged myself to the living space, stopping when i saw how deserted the place looked.

There were usually people bustling about. Especially so close to lunch.

“Sana!!!” I called out, only to be met with the echoing silence of my own voice. And then a few seconds later she appeared ,

“Mrs. Jeon.... Is Mr. Jeon here?”

“He just left... Is everything okay?”

“Yes, ma’am.”

“Where is everyone? Are all of you busy?” I asked nervously.

She bowed. “ Yes, ma’am.... The rest of us are cleaning out the pantry and Cook’s in the kitchen. Seul and Leejin are out in the backyard cleaning the statues near the koi pond. Mr. Jeon’s asked all the footmen and guards to stay around the perimeter. Will you need anything else?

“No... I’ll just rest till lunch.” I said gently, waving her off.

She left.

The eerie silence that followed told me there was nothing to do but embrace the loneliness and I hesitated, moving slowly to the window and peering out. I couldn’t see any of the guards either.

My fingers shook a little as I moved slowly to the entryway that led into the dining space. It was dark in here, the light from outside only illuminating the west wall which had large windows set in. I moved to the windows and stared out into the Jeon estate.

Although Jungkook was the younger brother, he had been taxed with maintaining and caring for the family estate. Not because his father trusted him but because the old man knew just how much Jungkook hated the place.

I played with my wedding ring as i remembered the countless times I’d watched the two of them fight, Jungkook coldly still while his father hurled abuses at him. Jeon Jaesook considered his son to be incompetent and disobedient, which made little to no sense to me.

As far as i knew Jungkook had helped increase production and had cut down operating costs significantly over the seven years that he’d been working as the managing Director at Jeon Steelworks.

But it was obvious the old man favored Jihyun, Jungkook’s older brother. Jihyun worked in the air conditioned offices located in Gangnam, the CEO taking care of all their sales and marketing while Jungkook , who had an actual degree in Business spent his days slaving away at the smelting Units, a job that was physically and mentally exhausting.

And while it always made my stomach twist, this unfair treatment he got subjected to, there wasn’t much i could do. My father had made it clear that he wouldn’t agree to the investment, unless both his daughters married the Jeon brothers. And Jungkook’s father had made it clear that if Jungkook didn’t agree , he would be out on the streets without a penny to his name.

My leg began aching and I turned back around ready to go settle into my workroom where I usually worked on my writing when I heard his footsteps. I glanced up, frowning.

Jungkook stood in the doorway staring at me with an unreadable expression on his face.

I stared at him for a few seconds, waiting for him to say something.

When he didn’t, I sighed.

“Did you think I was going to leave?” I asked bitterly.

He sighed.

“I’m not going to cheat on you. “

I nodded.

“I suppose you want me to thank you for that?” I shook my head. “ You don’t have to keep your worthless vows. Go sleep with her. Why would it make a difference to me?”

He exhaled sharply.

“I thought you understood.” He said sharply.

“I did. I do.” I said curtly “ I understand that my parents screwed the two of you over. I understand that you had to do something you absolutely did not want to. But there’s something you need to understand too. Just because I’ve accepted this, it doesn’t mean I enjoy it. It doesn’t mean I have to be happy about my husband being in love with another woman, much less my own sister.”

Jungkook nodded.

“Right. Got it. “ He said curtly and I flinched when another muscle twitch told me I’d been standing for too long.

“I’m going to go lay down.”

“Do you need me to get you a heating pad? For the leg? Or send one of the girls to massage your legs?” He asked softly, stepping closer and lightly gripping my elbow when my knees buckled.

I didn’t have much choice than to grip his forearm, because the pain was intensifying from pins and needles to proper muscle spasms. Sweat began to bead on my upper lip and i felt just a little faint.

“Yes. “ I said , feeling pathetic. I should have used the crutches. It had been a bad day even when I woke up. I should have sensed it and taken the proper measures.

“Leah... Should I run a warm bath for you? “ Jungkook's lips brushed my ear when he leaned to hold my weight up and i stiffened.

“That won’t be necessary. I just need help back up to the bed, thank you.” I said shortly. He looked uncertain and shook his head.

“ okay, but I’ll get Sana to run you a warm bath and make you some willowbark Tea.” He said quietly, and when I stumbled a bit on the first step he swore.

“This isn’t going to work.... Come here.” He said gruffly and before I could protest he bent low, gripping the back of my knees and pulling me up into his arms.

i swallowed, head spinning as I cradled the curve of my lower belly.

Tell him... Tell him... Tell him...

I felt my head throb as I kept my arms wrapped tight around his shoulders.

“I’m pregnant .” i blurted out.

Jungkook stumbled , nearly sending the both of us tumbling down the flight of stairs and i clung to him in terror. Okay, maybe the timing could have been better.

“What?” He looked ashen. Like he’d seen an actual ghost.

“Just thought you should know.” I muttered under my breath.

We reached the landing and he didn’t say anything, looking away from me, his jaw taut and lips set in a thin line. I felt my throat go sandpaper dry. He waited till we were safely in the confines of our bedroom, placing me down on the bed gently and moving to close the door and lock it.

I stared up at the ceiling, refusing to look at his face.

“ Leah-”

“Its fine. You don’t have to say anything. I didn’t know till a week ago myself.”

Silence.

“Have you told your parents?”

I exhaled sharply.

“No.”

“Mine?”

“No...”

“Then would you consider.... “ He trailed off and i finally stared at him.

“No.” I said softly.

He sighed.

“Alright. Should I book an appointment with Dr. Lee?”

I laughed.

“How very practical of you..” i said.

“What else do you expect from me..”

“Not even an ounce of support, that’s for sure.” I snapped and he growled.

“You want me to lie? Fine.. I’m happy!! So fucking happy that we’re bringing an innocent kid into our fucked up family. ” He shouted.

This was why I didn’t want to tell him, I thought bitterly.

“You’re the only one who’s fucked up, Jungkook. I’m perfectly fine with myself and my choices. I can give my baby all the stability they might ever need.”

“ That’s not hat I'm talking about. do you know what its like to grow up with parents who can’t stand each other?” Jungkook shouted.

I gaped at him. Can’t stand each other? Is that how he saw us?

“As long as you don’t walk out on us, we’ll be fine.” I muttered despondently.

“ Don’t worry about that. I’m not going to run away from my responsibilities. ” He said quietly.

I finally turned to look at him, placing both my hands on my stomach.

“Do you want me to leave you?” I asked honestly.” Have you ever thought about it?”

He didn’t say anything.

“So you have.” I smiled sadly. It wasn’t surprising but it did hurt.

“Of course I have. You’re Lisa’s sister and Lisa is my... “ He paused, shaking his head, “ But, I know you can’t. I don’t expect you to either.” He said gruffly, grabbing the intercom.

I watched as he called the housekeeper, firing off instruction for Sana and then to the cook to send some tea for me. He hung up and turned to me again.

“Lisa and I are going to go to Japan for a week. She has a conference there and I’m going to scout for locations just in case we open up a distribution office there.”

I turned away.

“ You don’t have to tell me all that. You didn’t before, i don’t want you to start now.” I said firmly.

He didn’t reply and i turned back to stare at the ceiling.

Jungkook hovered for a few seconds before moving closer to the bed and grabbing the comforter and a couple of pillows. I felt a lump in my throat as he carefully picked my leg up, placing the pillows underneath. i was almost numb from the thigh down.

i closed my eyes as he carefully pulled the comforter over my waist, folding it over my chest.

“Rest well.” He said quietly before walking away. i heard the door opening and then closing.

i waited till I heard his footsteps fades away before opening my eyes and staring at the ceiling.

I should probably put some paintings up there, I thought.

Author’s Note : This entire fic can be summed up as me not having any self control.

#jungkook arranged marriage #bts arranged marriage #bts fic #bts arranged marriage fic #bts smut #jungkook smut #jungkook fanfic #jungkok fanfics #bts famnfics #bts fanfics

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witch-hazels-musings · 3 years ago

Note

i dunno if requests are still open but if they are, could i request this? if not, feel free to delete! but in case they are open here's the request: jean, beidou, and ganyu reacting to accidentally hurting their s/o? it could be anything from simple slap in the face while turning around or hurting them with their vision/weapon :]

Accidents

(ouchie -- having them accidentally hurt the reader T.T -- they didn’t mean too!)

Warning -> SFW, accidental injury (Character -> Reader)(face injury (Jean)), (meantions of cuts to face / arms (Ganyu)), (hit by rope (Beidou))

Character X GN Reader | Anthology

Includes: Beidou, Jean, Ganyu

Beidou

She takes pride in keeping everyone on her crew safe, no matter the danger - on sea or land, she will fight and guard each person in her charge -- you are no exception and in fact, you are probably the one she fights the hardest for. The thought of seeing you hurt doesn’t sit well with her and, if she can control it, she’d never let it happen

How could she have known that she’d be the one to cause you discomfort -- that she’d end up allowing you to get hurt because she let something slip through her fingers … pride was a strong emotion, but guilt could send a pirate to the bottom of the ocean

The weather had made a sudden turn for the worst. Dark clouds rolled overhead as the crew furled the sales to protect them from the downpour that was bound to arrive any second now.

“Captain!” Beidou’s attention shifted to the crow's nest, her scout pointing violently toward a massive cumulus cloud in the distance. She knew it was bound to smash right them if they maintained this heading, so in an effort to avoid it, she ran toward the bow barking orders.

“Tack to starboard! Finnick,” She turned to point at the several crew waiting on the foredeck, “raise the spinnaker, now.” They quickly bustled to their jobs while she found herself at the head of the boat. Her arms crossed as she oversaw the work of her crew; great pride swelling in her chest to see how organized they were even without her voice like a well-oiled machine everyone did their part.

As the creaking boat turned, heading parallel now to the storm, Beidou hoped that it would stay on its heading so the Crux wouldn’t have to bear the brunt of its onslaught. It was now a waiting game, but if she knew anything about the ocean - it would be a win for her today.

Just then, a rope tying one of the many large sails snapped. Its reaction was like a domino effect and soon all hands were rushing to stop a potentially catastrophic outcome. Leaping over the railing, she landed hard onto the deck below, her feet finding solid ground long enough for her to push forward and, before the other crew had a chance to react, she was already climbing the mainmast as if it were a simple tree. It took her no time at all to reach the issue but the strong winds continued to whip around the ropes below her and by the time she managed to capture them - her eyes fell onto your frame.

In terrible slow motion, she watched as you reached for the rope only to have it collide into your chest and knock you back into another crew member. Her heart sank, her arms burned, her determination steadfast as she made quick work of the problem before dropping back down to you.

“Are you alright?” Someone called, their hands reaching to you as if to offer some assistance but Beidou knocked them away. Orders were told, tasks were assigned, and before you could object, she carried you into her quarters.

When the door closed and she sat you on her bed, you could already tell how upset she was. “Beidou -- it was an accident, I didn’t have good footing and …” She uncrossed your arms, you didn’t even realize that you were holding onto your chest. Carefully peeling back your tunic, she noticed the welt that was starting to grow in the area below your collarbone. With a huff, she walked away before returning with a cloth. “You’re being silly, it’s not that ba-AD!” You shouted, the cold material shocking you as it came into contact with your burning injury.

“This could have been much worse. You’re lucky it only bruised the surface.” Sitting next to you, she rested her knee near your lower back, and the warmth of her leg as she moved close to you somehow offset the ice on your chest.

“I’m just upset I didn’t grab it, it was right there and then … ah - that’s sore.” She tested your shoulder, pushing against it with her palm and shaking her head at the notion that you were going to have a painful recovery.

“You are a member of this crew and I have sworn an oath to protect you, but …” Her head dropped and she found it hard to continue. 'How could I let this happen' was written all over her expression.

“Hey, it wasn’t your fault. You’re an excellent captain.”

“A captain keeps her ship on course, its belly full, and its crew happy. How can I do that when my happiness is your wellbeing?” Her fingers ran over your ear, slipping in between the locks of your hair as if to show you how much she cherished you. Carefully, she leaned toward you, her lips connecting softly onto your shoulder as they trailed a path to your injury and even in the numbness of it you were still able to feel the heat from her love. “If you are ever out of your depth, allow me to be your lifeline.”

“Of course, as long as you trust me to know when I'm there.”

“Within reason.” As the boat rocked on the sea and the sky rumbled far into the distance, you captured the steady heart of the captain.

Jean

Jean would never intentionally harm you, the thought of putting someone innocent in danger makes her sick - as the acting Grandmaster she has a sworn duty to protect everyone around her from those who would do them harm

So when she's the one who caused your injury, she's beside herself with regret

She stood in her office, her back to the door as she let her mind wander on all the things that needed to be done. It was never-ending, and while she was always fulfilled by the products of her work, she often pushed herself so far that her body and mind became clouded.

Today was one of those days. The work, planning, problem-solving was weighing on her. There is never enough time, she thought to herself as she rested her head in her hand and squeezed tighter around her rib cage. She was distracted, so exhausted that her ears felt blocked, her body swayed even though she knew she wasn't moving, and her head throbbed.

"Jean ..." What needed to be done first, she pinched her nose and through harder. "Jean?" She sighed and attempted to stop the voices in her head.

"Jean, hey?" A hand touched her arm and in her daze, she turned suddenly. Her hand was further from her face than she expected and with a solid smack, she hit something.

"Ah!" Your startled voice shook her back to understanding, your expression and hand now covering your face sent her heart in the pit of her stomach.

"Y/N? I'm so sorry ..." She rested her hand on your arm and shakily reached for your face, her fingers tenderly touching the ones that hid you from her pained eyes. "I didn't -- are you badly hurt?"

"Ouch, you got me really good." You explained, scrunching and circling your nose but allowing her to take your hand.

"My mind was elsewhere, I am ... I'm sorry." She ran her hands over your face, the warm feeling of wind slipping from her fingers and soon your expression eased.

"Thanks, It was an accident, don't worry."

"An accident like this should have never occurred, it is unbecoming of me to allow myself to falter." She stepped away from you, afraid that any prolonged contact would make it worse.

"Jean, you're allowed to make mistakes, and look - I'm fine, see." You grinned proudly but she couldn't let it go.

"I need to make amends."

"Mmm, well then, I have an idea."

"What is it?" She looked at you hopeful, her eyes watching you as you stepped closer.

"I'll take a kiss as an apology." You tapped the side of your cheek and presented it to her.

With hesitating hands, she rested her fingers on the other side of your cheek and let her lips touch the skin she hurt, "I will be more observant in the future."

You turned your head, your face so close you could feel her breath, "I don't see how that's possible, but if it means I get to have more of your attention, I'll be okay with that."

You kissed her and wondered if she was able to heal through her lips.

Ganyu

The absolute sweetest soul in all of Teyvat. She cares deeply for all things, works hard to get the job done, and is dedicated in her actions - it's one reason why her contract with Rex Lapis was drafted; she is the epitome of ____

She would never maliciously hurt those around her and often puts herself in harm's way to keep others safe

To her, causing harm to someone she adores, loves, cherishes would be as severe as breaking her contract

The two of you ran through the field, your legs burning as you dashed across the landscape and away from your persistent pursuers.

"Ganyu! Up ahead!" You shouted, pointing to the higher ground and dashing in that direction. She followed, keeping an eye out on the enemies behind. To buy some time, she laid down her tantalizing cryo flower before picking up her pace to reach you.

"From here we can handle them more easily, just be ready." She nodded her head and pulled back her bow, ready to strike.

The fight was far more doable in this arena, each enemy falling one after another as the two of you fought in perfect sync. Charging her shot, she saw the ideal opportunity to hit multiple targets at once, but as soon as her arrow flew so did you.

"Y/N!" She shouted but you were too far away and, as soon as you reached them, prepping your sword for a swing, the arrow exploded hitting everything in its path. You yelled, sliding on the ground only to slam hard into the dusty surface. In an instant, everything that Ganyu was, and wasn't, aiming for fell.

Rushing forward, she reached you and quickly assessed your condition. Her hands hovering, her eyes scanning only to find the damage she had caused. Several small cuts appeared on your face, your arms were equally damaged and the despair that filled her was so great she prostrated herself before you. Her head resting on your hips as she bowed deeply.

"Ga-Ganyu? What are you doing?" You asked, setting your sword to the side as you looked down at her.

"I hurt you, please forgive me." You tried to pull her up but she shook her head and dug in deeper into her display.

"It was an accident, I wasn't looking and that was a good shot. I'm not hurt."

"You are!" She shot up, her eyes looking at the marks that she had created on your skin. "It was my fault that you have -- if-if they leave a scar ... I ..." She shook her head, unable to finish her thought.

"Ganyu ... they won't leave a scar, and even if they did, don't you think I'd look super cool?" You smiled but she hated it.

"It's not acceptable ... if you'd like to d-dismantle our contract, I understa-"

You wrapped your arms around her, squeezing tightly as you spoke. "I don't want that, I'd never want that. I need you, please don't ever think I'd be okay if you weren't at my side." After a moment, she returned the gesture and you felt the pressure of her nose dig into your neck. When she finally pulled away, you let your hands slide down her arms and rest into her delicate hands.

"I'll just have to practice harder." She nodded fiercely as she helped you stand up.

"If you insist." You laughed, thinking to yourself when she would ever find the time to do that.

tag list:

@clemmywrites @sufzku @plenilunegazes @lucacandy @marianadibenea @nonniechan @jaemjenjam @softlybeloved @excitedlysuffering

#genshin impact #genshin impact X reader #genshin impact headcanons #genshin impact musings #genshin impact fiction #genshin impact ganyu #ganyu #ganyu x reader #jean #genshin jean #jean x reader #beidou #genshin beidou #beidou x reader

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bubble-tea-bunny · 3 years ago

Text

dive into you

[bennett x reader]

author’s note: lil fic for bestest boy benny inspired by the song by nct dream and the summer season :’)

word count: 3,600

There’s a bakery opposite of Angel’s Share, just across the cobblestone road, and every morning the smell of freshly baked bread wafts from its open double doors, ready to welcome patrons and the crisp air of the early hours. Bennett has easily fallen into the routine of making this his first stop of the day. When he wakes, eyes slow to open and greeted by little squares of light on the ceiling of his bedroom from the sunlight shining through the window, he swears he can already smell that bread and the pastries and the care put into each one. He doesn’t often find it in him to be lazy, to be sluggish this early, for a new day was a new promise of adventure, and whether he’s swept along by the wind to the wilds or to the bakery, it’s an adventure all the same.

He always picks out food for his dads. He considers carefully what they might like to have (some prefer to have the same each time, others don’t mind the variety and like to be surprised), and carefully, slowly he fills the tray. Usually it isn’t busy during the time he’s there, but he doesn’t want to take risks as he holds it securely with both hands whenever he’s perusing the selection. Even if there were no people to bump into, with his luck, he might bump into one of the displays in the middle of the shop instead, consequence of paying more attention to the shelves against the wall where there are loaves baked into fun shapes like fish or crabs, rather than to what’s in front of him. He’d hate to drop everything on his tray and waste it.

Sometimes the bakery keeps the doors closed, and while uncommon, it’s nothing unusual. On these occasions, the entry of each customer is announced by the small bell jingling just overhead. It’s the only sound in the shop, ringing several times in the past ten minutes but it’s mere background noise, easily ignored, as Bennett absorbs himself in choosing what to buy today.

“Good morning!”

Bennett’s hand freezes just above a loaf of bread that looks like a bear and he glances behind him to the counter because the sound of your bubbly voice, conversely, is much more difficult to ignore. Though to be fair, to him, you’re no mere background noise.

You’re carrying a basket of more loaves just taken from the oven, half of them regularly shaped into circles and the other half like turtles, and grin at the customers who have just walked in. He watches you make your way over to a shelf several feet away from him to arrange the bread, and he stares long enough that you’ve taken notice. Your smile is bright and reaches your eyes, and he’s embarrassed to have been caught. His cheeks grow warm and you can probably see the dusting of red across his face, a speculation which doesn’t help alleviate this embarrassment one bit.

“Good morning, Bennett,” you greet him, more quietly since he’s closer.

He likes when you say his name, and it never fails to make his heart skip a beat and he stutters out an O-Oh, um… as if surprised that you’re talking to him, much less that you know who he is. It shouldn’t take him off guard that you know, considering how often he comes to the bakery, so he supposes it has more to do with the fact that he can’t believe his name should be spoken by a voice as gentle as yours, honeyed tones like the softly plucked notes of the Holy Lyre der Himmel.

Finally he musters an equally quiet Good morning in response, smiling back but he’s certain it looks more like a cringe, owed to his nerves. If it does, you don’t point it out, and simply return to your task. Only when another patron comes up to Bennett’s other side, muttering a pardon as they grab a loaf from the shelf he’s standing in front of, does he break his gaze from you. His hand that had been hovering above the bread that whole time he drops back down to his side, and he scoots to make room with another stutter and a sorry.

You’re back behind the counter when Bennett is ready to pay. The pile of bread, cake slices, sandwiches, and other miscellaneous pastries had in the past led you to ask him if these were snacks for the road, for you’d guessed him to be an adventurer doing commissions for the guild by the sword at his side. He’d chuckled and explained his actual purpose for buying as much as he did, and your grin had widened, and if he wasn’t imagining things, you’d been extra careful when packing every treat.

I’m sure they’ll really appreciate your gesture, you’d said. That’s sweet of you. And it’s not frequently that events in the course of his life run smoothly, but that day they had, and with no falter in his words he remarks it’s thanks to you, for you’re the reason there’s anything to bring back to his dads in the first place. You’d laughed and his chest tightened and he thinks that’s the point where he started to fall (to where, he hesitated to state exactly). But in any case, it was true—without you, there was no bakery filled to the brim with delicious food, and if he had anything to say about that, Mondstadt would be worse off for it.

This morning, Bennett is digging around his wallet for the appropriate amount of Mora while you pack what he’d picked out. Having gone through this process many times prior, he knows approximately how much it should cost.

“Ah—”

A few coins slip from his hand and clatter to the wooden floor, and he bends to pick them up. But on the way down, his head knocks into the tray that he neglected to push all the way onto the countertop, so part of it still stuck out. You blink in surprise at the jostling of the tray and his subsequent Ouch!, muffled because he’s obscured by the counter.

“Are you okay?” You sound genuinely worried, but to Bennett the accident had been no big deal. At least none of the food had fallen.

“Yeah,” he assures you. He’s still trying to gather up the stray Mora, fingers failing to get a proper grip on them and he huffs in slight exasperation. His face once more is burning from the embarrassment of being so clumsy. He’s clumsy around everyone, and it’s something he has long since come to accept, but it matters a lot more when it’s you.

Finally he stands back up, the money clutched in his fist victoriously. “Yeah!” he repeats now that you can hear him clearly. “It’s no big deal.”

For a second you don’t quite believe him, but it’s hard to argue with that smile on his face. There’s no pain he’s trying to hide (embarrassment, on the other hand, is a different issue entirely).

Upon handing him his package you tell him you’ll see him tomorrow and he feels sort of special because you don’t say it to anyone else. To others, you say Thank you, come again! but you know his routine and you know to expect him at the same time each morning. Judging by the look in your eyes and the sound of your voice when you see and greet him, you anticipate his visit every time, and his heart wants to soar out from the confines of his chest upon this realization and he is exhilarated. The wind and the new day have fulfilled their promise of an adventure, and the clock hasn’t even struck noon.

One day you’re a little distracted, focused on a paper in your hand as Bennett approaches the counter with his tray of baked goods. For the most part, your face gives nothing away, but then your brows furrow slightly, a subtle action he doesn’t miss, and he proceeds to ask if anything is wrong. He asks it kindly, keeps his tone neutral, wordlessly conveying that you don’t have to answer if you don’t want to. He would hate to pry.

You purse your lips, pausing like you’re caught between saying yes and no. He waits patiently for whichever one it might be.

“I ran out of sugar and had been meaning to make more,” you start, opting to share with him what’s been troubling you.“I bought out Flora’s stock of sweet flowers but it wasn’t enough, so I may have to set aside time to pick more myself later.”

The mention of heading outside of the city makes Bennett perk up, for he never turns down a chance to go exploring. He’s about to offer to do it for you, but it’s the thought of possibly going with you instead that makes him hold back and rephrase his question.

“This afternoon?” he inquires, head tilting. You nod, and up until now he’d felt confident in the offer he was going to present, but then his nerves get the better of him and it doesn’t come out quite the way he was hoping. “I-I could go with you! You know, if you want! To protect you… Just in case…” He trails off and he wants to go hide in a hole. There are few other ways this could have gone worse.

You don’t answer right away, and he regrets having said anything at all, but your beautiful smile soon follows the silence and it sets his mind at ease, and you agree with a concise and cheery Sure! Well, at least the worst way this could have gone had not come to pass. It was the small victories for Bennett—just as important as the big ones. The next challenge would be to avoid making a fool of himself out there, in what should be his natural element; he does want to impress you. But that’s a big ask for someone like him…

Both of you agree to meet at the front gate in the late afternoon. By then, the traffic in the bakery is slow enough that you’re able to step away earlier than the normal closing time. You’ve changed into clothes more appropriate for walking around: in lieu of a dress, your typical work attire, you sport a tunic and trousers you don’t mind dirtying. The trousers are tailored to fit properly but the tunic is a tad big, the sleeves a bit too long, but Bennett thinks you look cute in it. A basket hangs on your forearm and you wave as you walk up to him.

“I hope you haven’t been waiting too long,” you say.

Bennett shakes his head. “Not long at all.” Technically the agreed upon meeting time was only five minutes ago, so you aren’t very late. Though he does refrain from sharing that he’d arrived early, in fear that he could end up late somehow and you would be the one who had to wait. Really, it’s been more like fifteen minutes for him, but he just keeps quiet about that.

One of the nice things about summer is that the sun sets later. There’s still a sufficient amount of light to illuminate the fields as you walk around in search of sweet flowers. At first, the extent of your conversation is discussing where you might be able to find a high concentration of them, then silence filled with the sifting of grass beneath your shoes and the occasional exclamation of having spotted a flower to be picked and tucked away in your basket.

Honestly, walking with you around the wilds of Mondstadt hadn’t been anywhere on Bennett’s list to do today, or any day really, not until he could muster the courage to invite you out like this, and who knew when that might be. Your need for sweet flowers had dropped the opportunity right into his lap, and thankfully he hadn’t squandered it. But now he’s at a loss as to what to talk about; he didn’t think he’d ever get this far.

Maybe you sense his struggle to come up with a topic of conversation because you’re the one to speak up, asking about his adventures and the commissions he takes. Done anything exciting recently?

Bennett’s eyes light up, a reaction which you can't help but smile at, and he regales you of the goings-on of his latest missions. He omits the instances where his clumsiness had made things more difficult (of which there were many), but each story is still truthful. Most of his commissions the past month hadn’t been anything too bold—after a mission that involved nearly getting himself trapped in a ruin due to solving a puzzle wrong then getting food poisoning on top of that from the snack he’d prepped that day, he’s been choosing jobs that he knows he’s more capable of.

To him, they aren’t too exciting, and in the larger scope of things, perhaps they aren’t, but you don’t seem to think that as you hang on each word. You’re absorbed in his story about trying to dismantle towers in a hilichurl camp, and gasp at the mention of their reinforcements coming to attack in the midst of it. Wow, you remark after he finishes his recounting of the event. You’re amazing, Bennett!

His heart does a flip again at the sound of his name and he shrugs offhandedly. He’s not inclined to think so, but your awed comment is sincere and has him reconsidering: yeah, that was pretty cool of him, wasn’t it? For all his clumsiness, he doesn’t often see the feats for what they are, accompanied by blunders or not, but you’re the fresh perspective he’d been missing, and he wishes you’d stepped into his life sooner.

The entirety of your outing together has thus far been free of any monsters, but as soon as Bennett makes this observation it’s like the universe has heard: hydro slimes suddenly pop out from the ground, halting you in your tracks. You squeak in surprise and Bennett is quick to shift into a fighting stance, knees slightly bent and one arm out in front of you protectively.

“Just stay there!” he instructs before drawing his sword and rushing forward.

Luckily there aren’t many slimes to fight off, and they aren’t very big. His sword cuts through them easily, cleanly. They burst and spray water upon being sliced apart, so at the end, when they’re all dead, the only evidence they had been there to begin with is the slight dampness to his clothes and the squish of dirt turned to mud. With a sigh of triumph, Bennett resumes a relaxed stance, then sheathes his weapon and turns to you.

As instructed, you’ve stayed in place, but it seems to have been more out of being frozen in fear than anything else. You’re clutching your basket close, and once the slimes are gone, you follow Bennett’s lead and relax, shoulders releasing the tension they had been filled with for the duration of that fight. You let out a deep exhale of relief, hand placed over your heart which has yet to slow back down to its normal pace.

“Thank you.”

Bennett flashes a toothy grin and waves his hand as if to say It’s not a problem. “That’s what I’m here for isn’t it?”

You smile back. “I’m glad we went together.”

Together. He likes the sound of that. He thinks to himself that he’d go with you to other places too; you need only to give the word. To the edge of this world, and through a portal to the next? He’d meet you by the front gate at dawn.

He’s surprised that the encounter with those slimes had gone as smoothly as it had. It isn’t uncommon for him to get hit a few times, bruises quick to form on his arms or his legs. And it’s quite the run of luck, of which he’s ordinarily in short supply, that he should get through a fight with nary a scratch on him while with you. His efforts to impress are actually succeeding.

However, this is another case of speaking too soon, because he starts to walk back to you, but then his foot gets caught on a rock concealed by the tall grass, and he tumbles to the ground.

“Oof!”

His chest collides with the earth as he lands with a thud and the breath is stolen from his lungs. You gasp and close the gap between you, and in viewing you in his peripherals, he notes that you are much more graceful at it.

“Are you all right?”

Bracing his hands on the dirt, small bits of rock digging into his palms, Bennett pushes himself up to sit on his knees. “Yeah, I’m okay!” Here he thought he had handled himself perfectly well, but then just like that, his clumsiness returned, and once more before you he is awkward, blundering Bennett.

Unlike the incident at the bakery when he’d bumped his head into the tray, this fall had actually hurt, and he can’t hide it successfully, a slight wince of pain crossing his face in spite of his smile. Even if you hadn’t caught on to that, the injuries elsewhere on his body give it away completely.

“Your arms are all scraped up…” After Bennett stands back up, you gingerly take hold of his forearm and angle it to examine the scrapes there, thin red lines from tiny stones tearing the skin.

Your grip is light, like you’re scared to injure him further, and Bennett is thankful for the darkness that is setting in as the sun disappears and the moon begins its trek across the sky, for it conceals the way his cheeks redden to be this close to you, to be touched by you. The concern in your gaze as you look at his arm makes his chest squeeze but not in the good way, and he bends his knees slightly to duck into your line of view.

“Don’t worry! I’m fine.” And it’s true. He’s sustained worse, though he steers clear of sharing this part. He doesn’t like to see you worried.

He straightens up when you finally meet his eyes and dons his smile again, easy and reassuring. It seems to convince you, as you nod and let go. He drops his arm back down to his side but he’s already missing the feather-light sensation of your fingertips. Successfully reassured, your smile also returns, replacing the thin line of worry that your lips had previously been set in.

It’s dark now but the air is still warm, a consequence of the season. In the daytime the heat is more extreme, made even more so by the fire curling from the edge of his sword. At the conclusion of whatever commission he has taken, he’s left sweating, satisfied but exhausted. Missions in the summer are more difficult to get through, the sun beating down with little mercy and its heat lingering into the night, but he thinks that if he were to have you there with him, he’d hardly notice.

Your delicate gaze is the cool ocean breeze and your soft smile the deluge of waves washing over him, a force he receives gladly because he is falling into you, deeper into the expanse of your heart. He’s diving into the sea, the unbearable heat of summer long forgotten as he makes his way to the bottom. What he hopes to find he isn’t sure, but he’d be content to remain there forever, consumed by you and all the love you have to offer.

“Okay?” he asks, voice soft. You had nodded but he also wants verbal confirmation that you won’t burden yourself with worry anymore.

You catch on to his own need for reassurance, and he wants to sink into the refreshing fondness of your eyes as you watch him. “Okay.”

The moon up above illuminates your face, and he wants to run his fingers along all the parts it touches: the line of your cheekbones, the bridge of your nose, the cupid’s bow of your lips. He yearns to be closer to you than that moonlight adorning your skin, and maybe it’s strange that he should be envious of it, of that light which has the privilege to hold you so near, but the feelings he has for you are what’s written about in books, and in those stories, people do tend to do strange things.

In the morning, he stops by the bakery as usual but this time is surprised when you set a cake down alongside the other baked goods he buys. You answer his question before he can voice it.

“For yesterday,” you state simply. “For my hero.”

Your—?

“I think ‘hero’ is too strong a word for it,” Bennett replies, chuckling quietly and rubbing the back of his neck sheepishly. After all, they had just been slimes.

You hum noncommittally, corner of your mouth lifted in a grin. “Maybe, but yesterday you were mine. So please take this as thanks.”

He’d like to be yours every day, and the thought of how nice that would be makes his whole world just a little brighter, like the crystal butterflies fluttering around him in the wild on the warm summer nights; and he hopes that the next adventure the wind guides him on leads straight back to you.

#bennett x reader #bennett imagine #genshin impact x reader #genshin impact imagine #bennett #genshin impact #bubble-tea-bunny #queue

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bookishofalder · 4 years ago

Text

Night Changes [Eight]

Summary: 34 ABY.

Warnings: Angst, smut (a large amount of smut!), fluff but it’s sad, I’m sorry this one hurts. WC—+12K

A/N: Wow I can’t wait to get your feedback on this. BUCKLE UP!

34 ABY - Location Unknown - Aboard Star Destroyer ‘Finalizer’

“I had no idea we had the best pilot in the resistance on board,” A cold, modulated voice woke Poe from his troubled slumber—his pathetic attempt at rest, considering he was strapped upright, his hands and legs restrained from moving at all.

The First Order goons had been on him for hours before finally giving up, realizing with each slice into his skin or blow into his side that he only grinned wider. He wasn’t going to give up anything, even if they pulled his eyes from his head, and they seemed to understand that and left him alone, he wasn’t sure for how long now. He’d assumed they’d left him to die.

He tilted his head up, his neck protesting at the movement before his eyes landed on the figure across the dark room. The man was tall, covered from head to toe in black, his face covered by a dark helmet. The modulated, amused-sounding voice spoke again when Poe made no reply, “Comfortable?”

“Not really,” He admitted, glaring even though he was curious as to who this new arrival was. He didn’t seem bothered by Poe’s sarcasm.

“I’m impressed,” The First Order man stepped closer to him as he spoke, “No one has been about to get out of you what you did with the map.”

Poe looked where he guessed the man’s eyes would be, “You might want to rethink your technique.” He challenged, his body tensing in preparation for whatever violence it was about to endure.

Only, the man reached up a gloved hand, palm open towards him. For a beat Poe was confused.

For a beat, nothing.

And then the oddest sensation, like a hand dipping beneath his skull and squeezing his brain, and he almost gasped. He let out a small breath, his eyes dropping from the masked man because—he needed to focus, to push this pain away, to prevent...what was he doing to him?

The pain and pressure doubled and Poe slammed his head back into the headrest, unable to hold in his pained groan, his entire body protesting at the invasion. He tried to push at it, but there was nothing he could find to push against, it was invisible, it was nothing.

The man tilted his head, “Where is it?”

Ah, he was trying to get to the map. In Poe’s brain, using a-a something that he’d only ever heard tales about, never seen, thought was long gone. He hadn’t been prepared for this sort of attack, this form of torture that seemed to make his brain want to cooperate, just for relief.

He thought of you, then, and what you said any time there was a close call, an enemy with the upper hand. It spilled out of his lips, automatically, “The Resistance will not be intimidated by you.”

The pressure increased again and fuck, fuck if it didn’t hurt worse than any other pain in his life, the pain of losing Charlie, of losing you, the pain of stab wounds or blasters to the leg. This hurt so much worse and he wanted it to stop but he couldn’t let it—as long as he was in pain, the information was safe. He’d go down burning, he had to!

“Where is it?” The man sounded frustrated, his hand moving closer to Poe as that pressure continued to build and build and he had to swallow it, let it happen, let the pain exist.

He tried something, then, in desperation. Poe let his brain flood with the memories he had of you, each one like a movie, and thrust them toward his interrogator, let him see the most vivid thoughts he had instead of the location of the map.

Poe stared down at you, his eyes threatening to blur with the tears he was shedding, and he had to keep blinking to clear his vision. You looked beautiful, standing before him in a simple lace dress, your lower lip trembling as you gave your vows.

“...and that was how we met, on the day of your mother’s funeral—the woman whose ring I’ll wear now, honouring her. Honoring you. I’ve loved you my whole life, Poe Dameron...”

“Pretty,” The man murmured, and Poe wasn’t sure if it was working or not so he kept thinking of the day he married you, pushing the memories at the man before him.

You were wiping at your tears as he spoke, holding your hands tightly in his own and working hard to keep himself from sobbing through his vows.

“...you and I were never honest with each other like we should have been. We built up our whole lives around each other, and then we lost Charlie,” He paused there, leaving a moment of space for your brother. “And we crumbled, each in our own way because we didn’t have a solid foundation. The truth is, the day Charlie died there were only two ways that could have gone, and we both know that the version where you died, where he didn’t save you, was never really an option. And I was-was angry at him for doing it but angrier at myself for how happy I was that I didn’t lose you. And now we’ve come back to each other and we have that foundation and I’m going to spend the rest of my life making up for lost time, sweetheart.”

He pushed the memories from his mind. As if eager for the man to see the greatest moments of his life. Like a movie. Because he had to protect the map, he had to.

And he didn’t need to protect you any longer.

The last memory slipped through, he hadn’t meant to think of it. Tried not to, always-but he was weak and the pressure and pain were blinding him. It just appeared, and the man saw it, Poe knew he did when he saw his head tilt a little more as if interested in what he saw.

“Pity,” That cold, modulated voice didn’t sound like he thought it was a pity at all. “Well she certainly can’t have it, can she? Tell me where it is.”

The hand hovering in front of Poe’s face twisted and the pressure on his brain increased rapidly until he couldn’t bear it any longer and he let himself scream, and scream, and scream...

Right before he passed out, he thought first of BB8 hurrying away with the map on Jakku. And then Poe thought of you, his beautiful wife, and how fucking much he already missed you.

Life was now so surreal to Poe, in the best ways, that just the knowledge he could touch you whenever he wished made it difficult to stop himself from doing just that. A hand trailing down your back, a brush of his lips against your temple, his body pressed against yours, even reaching up to cup your cheek. And while you seemed to enjoy the attention, often shooting him little smiles that made his insides warm, he could see that currently, it was irritating you.

“Poe, we’re supposed to be blending in here and if you keep giving me those ‘I’ve seen you naked’ eyes it’s going to attract attention.” You carefully adjusted the scarf you wore, which served both to protect you from the suns of Tatooine, and keep anyone in Mos Espa from being able to identify you.

Poe wore one similar around his neck, his hair gelled back in a way he thought looked awful (and confirmed when he’d stepped out of the ship’s fresher earlier and you laughed, hard). Today’s mission was more personal, though it had been approved by General Organa. Jess Pava had located, purely by accident, the location of the Twi’lek man, Dario, who had tried to capture you and Poe back on Takodana months prior after giving over First Order intel. He was in hiding from both the Resistance and the First Order now.

Poe sighed dramatically, dropping his hands to his sides as you continued walking, his eyes sweeping the crowds of the busy city street, “I can’t help it. We’re still in the honeymoon phase.” He argued, and you giggled in response.

“We’ve been married five weeks, Poe, the honeymoon phase is the entire first year.”

Poe mulled this over, biting back his smile so as not to stand out to those passing by in the opposite direction. He still couldn’t believe you had agreed to marry him if he was honest. It all felt too good to be true, but if there was one thing he’d learned as a Rebel all these years it was to enjoy the good while he could—he wasn’t spending a lot of time ruminating. He was instead regularly replaying in his mind how quickly you’d said yes, the excitement and joy and adoration that had split your face into a wide grin as he kneeled before you the morning after your feelings for one another finally came out.

“Let’s get married, flyboy.” You’d said, and he’s not sure he would ever come down from the high those words provided.

It had been a bit of a whirlwind, after that. You had still needed a few days' rest to get your voice healed up, and Poe was only able to spend that day with you before being called back to duty. While he’d been gone on a mission, you had organized everything from the comfort of his room, first telling only your closest friends—Tahla, Temmin and Kare. Then you had located the base officiant to ask for her to wed you and Poe in a private ceremony upon Poe’s return.

It was amusing how everyone took the news. You’d described to Poe how Temmin and Kare had high-fived one another, while Tahla had merely laughed, nodding his head in an annoyingly knowing way.

When Poe had arrived back on base, he’d sought you out in his room to find you being examined by Tahla and a medical droid, the former happily declaring that your voice was as good as new. He had then congratulated you each on the happy news and assured you both that he could remain for the ceremony with a cheeky sort of grin.

Poe married you the very next morning. The ceremony was small, just you and Poe, your three friends and the officiant. BB8 had also been present, happily beeping the moment Poe began to cry-which was around the time when you’d surprised him by taking your father’s wedding band from his droid and presenting it for Poe. You told him that as much as you were meant to wear his mother’s wedding band, the same went for him wearing your fathers. You said Charlie would have wanted it to end up in his hand, regardless of who he married, anyway. Poe had replied that he was always going to marry you.

That had been, quite easily, the best day of his entire existence.

After the ceremony, Poe had whisked you off to a nearby beach, the flight a mere ten minutes, where you would enjoy a short three-day honeymoon together camping, surrounded by nothing but sand and water, sunshine during the day and the stars twinkling by night. Temmin had helped Poe to pack camping supplies and promised to keep BB8 safe as he and Kare went off with the droid on a mission alone.

He made love to you on that beach—sand got everywhere, of course, so he took you again in the water that you’d entered naked with the intent to clean up. And again in the tent after dinner. He woke in the middle of the first night and spent a good twenty minutes eating you out before you’d woken, your orgasm ripping through you moments later when you realized what he’d been doing. You’d returned the favour the next night, pulling Poe from a deep sleep by sucking his cock so expertly he saw stars, then drinking down everything he’d given you when he came while moaning sinfully.

“Alright,” You drew his attention from his thoughts—thankfully as he was starting to get hard thinking of the honeymoon. Stepping out of the way of foot traffic, you peered nonchalantly across the road at a grubby-looking cantina. “Jess said he’s in there about this time every day. We just have to wait for him to come out.”

“Uh-huh,” Poe stepped closer to you, an eyebrow quirked, “And not shoot him on sight, right Major?”

You bristled immediately, “I am not going to kill him. Here.” You jerked your chin up stubbornly and Poe chuckled, leaning down and capturing your kips against his softly.

When he pulled back, you threw him a mock glare, “You shouldn’t get me all worked up when you know we don’t have the ship to ourselves, Commander.” You made busywork of adjusting your scarf, eyes back on the cantina.

Poe grinned down at you, “We could knock Dario out-“

“Yeah? And what about our dear Captain? You think Snap would mind?”

He blinked, momentarily having forgotten Temmin was waiting on the ship for them, even though Poe had been the one to ask him along as backup.

“Shit,” He mumbled, and you rolled your eyes goodnaturedly.

He let you think he was annoyed at the lack of privacy, but the truth was Poe had asked Temmin along because he had become extraordinarily overprotective of you since the wedding. After the honeymoon, you’d rejoined him in the field and the first moment he saw you with your blaster at your hip, something inside of him had just...snapped.

He’d realized after your attack on Canto Bight that losing you wasn’t an option, that your life was worth more than winning the war to Poe. It had scared him, to think like that, and everything after that had happened in such quick succession that he’d pushed the thoughts back. But then that first mission together as a married couple had occurred and he realized how intense those protective, selfish thoughts were. And he was being selfish—because you were one of the best fighters, best pilots, the Resistance had. Which was why you’d been brought to D’Qar to join his team in the first place, of course. Limiting your fieldwork would have been as much as a disservice to the Rebels as it would have been to his marriage, so he didn’t even consider asking you to stop.

Well, he’d only considered it very briefly.

He knew what you would say, if he did ask, anyway. And truly, his belief in your capabilities hadn't diminished in the slightest; he simply couldn’t fathom the idea of you being hurt. Even here on Tatooine, he was keenly aware of all possible threats to you—to YOU, not to the Rebels, not himself. Hell, at that very moment he could see you were covered in a layer of sweat, courtesy of the over-hot planet, and the urge to whisk you somewhere cool and out of the sun was almost as powerful as his desire to complete this mission.

He was aware that his scales were not, in fact, balanced.

No, they’d tipped right over in your favour, though he kept you unaware of that knowledge, and every day now was a struggle when Black team was on a mission. The best he could think to do was bring back up, just in case, and always keep you close to him. If he had to jump in front of gunfire for you, he would in a heartbeat.

If he ever started to feel guilty over these feelings, he would think of your brother. Charlie would, no doubt, be thrilled that Poe and you had married, that Poe had officially made you his top priority.

D’Qar Five Weeks Ago

“I know I said you didn’t have to help,” Poe crawled towards you on the makeshift bed you’d put together inside the tent, his voice low, “But I’m glad you did, sweetheart. Got us to this part quicker.” He wiggled his brows at you and you giggled, your eyes following his movements hungrily as he climbed over your body.

“What if I tired myself out, flyboy?”

Poe smirked, pressing his body over yours, “That’s okay, sweetheart. I can take care of you, just relax for me.” He began to kiss a trail up your neck and along your jaw, lifting one hand to gently coax you to settle into the cushions. You allowed your warm body to go limp, signalling a trust in Poe he still had trouble feeling worthy of, and let out a small sigh of content.

He wasted no time in ridding you of your clothing, immediately devouring newly exposed skin with his mouth as he did. He was marvelling over how much his life had changed in the last week, how incandescently happy he was. When a whimper fell from your lips as he circled his tongue over one of your nipples, he drew back and saw your eyes blown wide with lust.

“You’re such a tease.” You mumbled, reaching down to palm his erection over his khakis. Grinning widely, he leaned away and quickly stripped himself before bringing his body to settle over yours again, this time skin to skin. Your arms wrapped around his shoulders, holding him close.

“Oh sweet girl,” He murmured into your ear as he reached between your bodies to run two fingers through your slick, “So wet for me already.” He withdrew his hand and gently rocked his hips forward, moving slowly as he sunk into you, a gasp falling from his lips at the sensation of your tight heat clenching around him. Perfect, you were utterly perfect.

Your back arched slightly as Poe filled you, angling to allow him to sink deeper, “Poe, Stars!” You whimpered, your hands sinking into his curls while he lazily worked his hips, drawing sweet little noises from your lips. It wasn’t the first time you’d made love that day, yet the intense desire you felt for one another was clear, heavy in the air around you, drawing you back to each other as nothing else could.

Being with you like this felt too good to be true, the sort of euphoria that must come with a limit, and so he savoured every second, drawing each thrust out as long as he could as he peppered your pretty face with kisses. “I love you...wife.” He joked, and you giggled beneath him, your legs tightening at his waist.

“I love you too, husband.”

You pressed at his chest then, signalling your desire to flip over, and Poe clutched your hips as he rolled, keeping himself buried within you as he laid on his back. When you relaxed atop him, his cock sunk even deeper and he grunted at the sensation, “Fuck, baby, so tight for me.”

With a moan, you started to move, rolling your hips to keep him deep within you and chasing your own pleasure, hands braced on his chest to hold yourself steady. Watching as you rode him, your breasts jiggling temptingly and skin gleaming with sweat, was one of the hottest things he’d ever seen. He never wanted to leave this beach.

“That’s it, sweet thing, bounce on my cock,” He gritted out, lifting his arms and grabbing at your tits, “Be as loud as you need, baby, no one can hear us out here, fuck.” His head dropped back onto the pillows as a wave of pleasure seemed to roll through your body, the resulting tightening around his cock pulling loud grunts from him and threatening to make him cum.

You started a steady stream of moans then, your pace remaining consistent as you whimpered and cursed, the hands on his chest pressing hard enough that he could tell you were attempting to prevent him from taking over; you wanted to be in control. The realization made his cock twitch, and you seemed to sense his thoughts as you glanced down and bit your lip, meeting his gaze.

“Poe, I’m so close,” You sighed, and he let go of one of your hips to rub his thumb over your clit, circling just how he knew you liked it, how he’d learned over the past few days.

The resulting orgasm rocked your entire body before you seized up and he swore your pussy was gripping him almost too hard, and then he was coming too. It was different, in a good way—he wasn’t moving his hips at all, yet you were milking his cock as you came around him, your hips still moving back and forth, and the surprise of it made Poe come even harder, “Oh stars, sweetheart!” He grunted, his entire body twitching until you finally collapsed and he caught you, holding you close while you both panted heavily.

“Poe?” You whispered, your face nuzzled into his neck.

Poe’s arms tightened around you and he kissed your hair, “Yeah, sweetheart?”

“I’m starving. No more sex, please feed me.”

Laughing, Poe lifted you lightly, each of you groaning at the sensation as he slipped from you and your mixture of fluids spilled out onto his thigh.

“Okay, sweet girl, let’s eat.”

It went without saying that you would enjoy one another for dessert.

You perked up suddenly, eyes still on the cantina, and Poe casually glanced over his shoulder. Spotting Dario ambling out of the door, he felt a lick of heat crawl up his spine; that asshole had pointed a blaster at you. He was going to turn you both over to the First Order, who would have tortured and killed you. Maybe Poe should have been more concerned that he would kill Dario, rather than arrest the motherfu-

“Let’s go.” You grabbed Poe’s arm and tugged, starting forward as Dario turned to walk up the road. Considering the Twi’lek was in hiding, he didn’t exactly hasten to return to the comfort and safety of his temporary home. It was easy to catch him up, and you tossed Poe a delighted little smile before surreptitiously unholstering your blaster and pressing into Dario’s back.

Dario made to turn, a small noise of surprise huffing out, but Poe threw an arm around his shoulder before he could see you and smiled. “Dario, dear friend, it’s good to see you.” He tightened his hold to an uncomfortable pressure.

“Ah, fuck.” Dario grumbled, putting up no fight. His eyes widened when you used your free hand to search him for weapons and pulled out his old blaster, tucking it into your waistband.

“Fuck is right,” You hissed, pressing the blaster a little harder into his back, “You’re coming with us, Dario. The Resistance has questions for you.”

Poe smiled at you proudly as you each led Dario through the streets towards the waiting ship. He saw you biting back your smile—you were much better at acting appropriate in the field than he was, though he had to admire his strength; the urge to kill Dario on sight had almost made him see red.

But that would have made the mission a failure, as Dario could have information the Rebels could use, and getting him out of the reach of the First Order ensured that he could not give them information about the Resistance.

Still, Poe would ensure his capture was far from comfortable.

Poe’s hand had found its way to your lower back, where he pressed it gently as you walked along beside him from your post-mission check in with the General. “You didn’t need to punch Dario the second time, Flyboy.” You teased, the memory of Poe punching the traitor before pushing him into the base’s lock-up making your lips tug up at the corners.

He laughed, shrugging as you weaved through the busy hallways, both nodding polite greetings to those you passed. Everyone referred to you as Major Dameron, now that word had spread through the base these past six weeks that Poe Dameron and (y/n) Horn had been married. You knew for certain you’d never been happier in your life, and based on how Poe could barely keep his hands off of you, he was enjoying life just as much.

“Are you sure you don’t want me to just tag along for your check-up?”

You rolled your eyes, glancing up at your husband with mild exasperation, “Poe, it’s an annual,” You reminded him, stopping in your tracks to step close to him and peer up at his handsome face, “Go work on your mission report and I’ll see you in the room later, alright?”

When he merely grinned at you mischievously, you giggled before sliding your hands up to the back of his neck, pulling him down to you. He pressed a soft kiss to your lips first, something you noticed he did a lot, as though he were testing that he was still allowed to kiss you. He then cupped your jaw in his hands and met you again, this time in the sort of kiss that made your knees shake, his tongue tracing along your lips teasingly before he pulled back and pressed a more chaste peck to your forehead.

“See you later, sweetheart.” He murmured, his tone suggesting your evening would be a long continuation of that kiss. You felt very warm when you smiled up at Poe before spinning and walking down the hall to the med bay, fully aware his eyes were on your ass.

The med bay was fairly quiet when you arrived, the nurse at the main desk seemed to be peering off at nothing, lost in thought. You cleared your throat awkwardly and she started before a polite smile appeared and she rolled her eyes at herself.

“Sorry about that,” She said, and you waved your hand to show there was no need, “What can I help you with?”

“I have an annual, Major H-um, Major Dameron.”

The nurse smiled more broadly and winked at you before standing, “Come with me, dear.” She led you through to the back, past the emergency section and into the further depths where offices and operating rooms were located. She gestured for you to enter a doorway you had plenty of times before, where annual checkups and post-mission physicals were done. “The medical droid will start on your readings after you change into your gown and the Healer will be here shortly.”

You thanked the nurse before she left, then walked over to the bed and plucked the gown from where it was folded. You changed out of your clothing quickly before tugging it on, then hopped onto the bed to wait. When the droid came in moments later, you stuck out your arm and let it begin its work taking your blood pressure, a small sample of blood, examining your eyes and ears, everything all so routine you were as zoned out as the nurse had been when you arrived.

A younger female Healer walked in as the droid took your temperature, smiling warmly. “Good afternoon, Major. I’m Healer Boyd.”

“Nice to meet you, Healer Boyd,” You replied, watching as she looked down at the droids readings displayed now on her tablet. All was quiet for a few minutes until the droid was at the implant in your arm performing the routine scan. The droid beeped after the first scan, then scanned again and this caught your attention as you’d never needed multiple scans to get a reading on the birth control implant.

Healer Boyd glanced up from her tablet and walked over to the droid, “Let’s do that once more, please.” She directed, and the droid repeated the scan once more, then beeped indignantly. Her eyes narrowed fractionally in confusion and she stepped up to you, her hand reaching for your arm, “I’m just going to have a feel, seems the implant isn’t giving a reading—which I have seen before; we might switch it out today.”

Her fingers gently prodded around the skin until she pinched up a small section of your upper arm and the droid attempted the scan again. The Healer hummed when the droid beeped indignantly, and then walked over to a supply cabinet and began riffling around.

“I thought these implants lasted longer before needing to be changed out?”

“Usually, yes, but sometimes the implant does have to get exchanged earlier, it’s not an exact science,” She turned and settled onto a stool next to you, offering you a smile, “But that’s why we do the scans. And of course, the implant still does its job while it’s in your arm. I’m just going to ask you to lie down for me while I do the switch...that’s great thank you.”

You closed your eyes once you were laying on your side, grateful the procedure was painless but not interested in seeing it for yourself. The Healer worked quietly while extracting the implant and you had begun to mull over how they even worked, your medical knowledge in the area fairly basic, when she made a sudden noise of surprise.

You glanced up at her, then followed her startled gaze to the implant held in the extraction prongs. Even you could tell it looked wrong like the tiny medical device had been set on fire, no longer sleek but rather mangled and lifeless.

Healer Boyd stared at the device for a few beats, then looked up at you. “I’m going to have to make a call.”

You waited impatiently for half an hour for Healer Boyd to return, no longer laying on the bed but instead pacing around the small room nervously. You seriously hoped you weren’t about to find out you had some sort of disease or illness, because that seemed like the sort of luck you would have. Though you hadn’t ever heard of any that disintegrated medical devices.

When the Healer did finally reappear, the expression on her face was tightly pleasant, like she was readying herself. “Major, I’ve just been in touch with Healer Martell and his team,” She began, gesturing for you to take a seat.

Tahla had gone back to the outpost he worked from the day after your wedding. So why he was the one Healer Boyd had called only further confused you. “Okay, why...” You trailed off, swallowing heavily.

“I believe you were told that the pollen you and Commander Dameron were exposed to during your mission earlier this year was very rare. So rare in fact that some after-effects are unknown,” She glanced at her droid, which moved forward and began to bandage up your arm where the implant had been removed from, first peeling off the gauze that had been placed there temporarily. You watched with narrowed eyes—they still needed to put in a new one. “And we haven’t ever had a situation where those who were exposed were left untreated for as long as you and your husband were. I ran a few tests on the device while I spoke to Healer Martell. It appears the long-term exposure allowed the pollen to...treat the device as white blood cells would a foreign contaminant.”

You stared, “The pollen destroyed the implant?”

“Yes,” She replied slowly, taking her stool and sitting on it directly in front of you now, “Of course, checking the implant was never a thought-we’ve simply never seen this before. Your implant hasn’t been working since around the time you and the Commander collapsed on base.”

You didn’t understand why she was sitting so close, nor why the droid had left your arm bandaged. “But I can get a new implant, right? Tahla assured me-assured us both, that we no longer have pollen in our systems.” You tried to keep your voice steady, unsure of what emotion you were even experiencing at the moment, just that you could feel it bubbling up inside of you.

“He was correct, you both are free of the pollen. And we can put a new implant in, however not at this time,” And she reached out then, her hand grasping one of yours firmly, “You’re pregnant, Major. Based on today’s check-up, it appears you are about six weeks along.”

Well, fuck.

The first thing Poe noticed when you walked into the room was the bandage on your arm. He’d been sitting at the desk, typing out his report, when you arrived, your expression unreadable.

“Sweetheart,” He shot out of the chair and crossed the room in two strides, one hand landing on your cheek and the other gesturing at your arm, “Did a med droid malfunction?”

You laughed, “No, I’m alright,” Your voice was an octave higher than usual, and your eyes were glassy, not meeting his but instead looking somewhere over his shoulder. “Do you think Charlie would be proud of me? Of how far I’ve come, that I hold the same rank as he did?”

Caught off guard by the question, Poe glanced behind him and found you were staring at the picture of the three of you he had on his corkboard. “Yes, of course, he would,” Concern now flooding him, Poe led you to the bed and helped you take a seat. You still didn’t meet his eyes, your expression torn. “Charlie was proud of you before you even joined the Resistance. Once you did join—hell, he bragged about you all the time.”

“And you? You’re proud of me?”

Poe stared at you for a beat before dropping to his knees in front of where you sat. Sliding between your legs, he gripped your thighs tightly, “What’s going on? Did you get pulled from duty? Are you sick?”

You shook your head, then dropped it to Poe’s shoulder where he could hear you taking slow, measured breaths. “They didn’t pull me. But they suggested different duties.” Poe wrapped his arms around you and hugged you tight, pressing a kiss to the top of your head before pushing you back so that he could look at you again. You bit your lip, your eyes flicking to his and then away. Poe waited as patiently as he could for you to elaborate. “They said—it might be best for me to keep away from the riskier missions. From combat. Because of my condition.”

Poe frowned, his stomach tying itself up in knots of concern, “Condition?”

He saw it then, a brief flash of the emotion you were holding back—joy. It was fleeting like you were scared of it, but it made the whole odd conversation you were now having with him make a little more sense, made your next words a little less shocking.

“I’m pregnant, Poe. My implant was destroyed by the pollen before we...” You trailed off, rubbing your hands over your face and then meeting his gaze again, “They said about six weeks along, so still early which is why I haven’t had any symptoms.”

Poe had lived his life since joining the Resistance with the knowledge that each day that he didn’t get hurt, captured, or killed, was a day to celebrate. After Charlie had died, and you had left, he realized that a single moment could alter his entire existence. One night could change everything, and he only had so much control.

You coming back into his life, that had been a gift. After forgiving one another for the past, you had a chance for a fresh start. And he’d been happy with that, just knowing you were his friend again and that you cared for him--it was enough.

But then you’d told him you loved him. And it had been like every moment, every breath he’d ever taken, had been leading up to that night-as right as it felt, that feeling of coming home, joining his body with yours. Finally saying everything he’d held in for so long, that was as good as life could get. It was perfection, and he had no right to demand more—until he did, and he asked you to marry him, and you’d said yes so quickly and smiled so widely that he remembers, distinctly, thinking to himself, ‘yes, this is enough.’

Pregnant.

The reality of having a child when you were soldiers in the war against the tyranny of the First Order, weighed heavily over the good news. But his first emotions, which hit him like a tsunami, were of radiant joy, the best kind of tears springing into his eyes as he gazed at you, his beautiful wife, his best friend, his soulmate, in wonder. Because surely, even though it was unexpected, life could not be this good? He wanted to ask you to pinch him, just to prove he wasn’t asleep and dreaming up this life with you, but he found words hard to come by, so he smiled broadly.

You had been watching him warily, but the moment his face split into a painfully wide grin, your own broke through and for a minute you just looked at one another, soaking up that happy, astonishing feeling.

“Sweet girl,” He breathed after a while, tears still blurring his vision, “Maker I—pregnant? Are you...how do you feel?”

“Physically, normal? I don’t know about the rest of me, I think I’m in shock.”

Poe reached one hand up to cup your jaw, stroking his thumb over your lips, “Have you...did you, uh,” He paused, wanting to word this right. He knew he didn’t need to ask you but was determined to treat you with the respect you deserved. It was your body, your choice, and the reality was you had that implant for a reason—he could not just assume your willingness, he had to be sure, to let you know he supported any decision you made. “I will support you here, no matter what you want to do, alright sweetheart? I know this is...this is huge.”

Your eyes flicked up to meet his and Poe saw a flurry of emotions cross your features as you considered the implication of his words. “Thank you,” You reached up and placed your hand over the one he had cupping your jaw, “This is huge...and unexpected, and fucking terrifying. I’ve thought about us starting a family, you know—one day. But this is, Maker, Poe, this is our baby. Ours.” You brought both hands cradle over your stomach, a mixture of protectiveness and happiness colouring your words.

The sight of your hands pressed where you were growing his child, the way you spoke so strongly, it did something to Poe. Like it was the final piece of his life, slotting into place and completing him, his chest expanding from the force of it all. He suddenly felt stronger, wiser—and more in love with you than ever, if that was even possible.

He reached out somewhat tentatively, placing a hand over the top of yours where it rested on your so far unchanged stomach, his eyes moving upward until he met your gaze. You drew in a breath at the expression on his face, your eyes widening.

“Ours,” He repeated, his voice low and thick with emotion, “Our family.” He leaned forward then, and captured your lips in a soft kiss, losing himself in the moment. You kissed him back eagerly, your eyes on his lips when he eventually drew back.

“I realize what this means—what keeping the baby will mean,” You admitted sadly, “Even without the Healer’s recommendation, I understand I can’t go into the field any longer. You and I were already blurring the lines of protocol to keep each other safe.”

Poe nodded in agreement, his hand tightening slightly at your stomach, “You are sacrificing a lot to do this, sweetheart. Please know that I understand and I’ll do anything I can to make sure you’re happy. I’ll talk to Leia in the morning, ensure we get you a good assignment here.” He felt a little helpless, now, realizing that you had nine months of pregnancy to endure and he could only do so much to help you.

“We’re going to figure this out,” You spoke almost as much to yourself as to Poe, your brows pinching together, “Family comes first, always. So we’ll figure this all out. Together.”

Outwardly, Poe nodded and smiled at you encouragingly. Inside, however, a spark illuminated the stark reality--that he was currently sitting with the love of his life, who was pregnant with his child, in the secret base for the Resistance.

Arguably one of the most dangerous places in the galaxy.

34 ABY - D’Qar

Five months pregnant.

Shit, you were exhausted.

It had been another long day. You wanted to blame the baby for draining your energy, but you knew that it wasn’t realistic—you were more mentally exhausted than anything.

Anytime Poe was away for more than a few days at a time, your anxiety spiked and you had trouble focusing on much else. You had surprised yourself, when you first found out you were pregnant, over how quickly the resolve to pull yourself from combat and flight had come over you. You didn’t even miss flying because Poe would bring you out for ‘test flights’ whenever he could get the time, give you a chance to stretch your wings, figuratively, and break any monotony in your schedule.

But you didn’t find your new job boring, because you worked directly for General Organa. You advised and planned and aided her on the daily, in whatever capacity needed, which sometimes allowed you to get a glimpse of the kind of horrors the First Order was performing across the galaxy and it only fueled your internal fire to work hard-not just for her, but for everyone. For the oppressed, those captured, those who had been lost, and especially for your little family. If you could bring this baby safely into the galaxy and give them a good home, then it was easily worth the long hours.

But you worried constantly over Poe. He was out there with Temmin and Kare on dangerous missions; you could do nothing to calm your nerves, and it drained you. Sometimes there were several days between communications and you would inevitably begin to spiral, convincing yourself he was captured or dead, always waiting for the dream that was being married to your best friend to turn into a nightmare.

His missions lately had been especially dangerous, as Black team had been finalizing the search for pieces of a map that lead to Luke Skywalker, Leia’s brother. The infamous Jedi went missing after a tragic event no one knew the details of. Even Leia kept that one close, and you never tried to ask. She simply told you that it felt necessary to bring Luke back, not only because he was her brother but to fight the First Order. That was enough for you—if you could bring your brother back, you would stop at nothing to do it.

When you reached the door to your shared room with Poe, your eyes fell heavily shut, relying on your memory of the space to shuffle forward, contemplating if you could manage a shower while this tired or if you should just go straight to bed. You were convincing yourself to shower when an amused voice cut through the air, startling you.

“Are you sleepwalking, sweet girl?”

Your eyes snapped open to find Poe sitting on the edge of the bed, his flight suit discarded on the floor nearby so that he only wore his briefs and a white tee.

“Poe!” You gasped, launching yourself across the room and into his waiting arms. “Stars, you’re home! I thought you’d be gone longer.” He pulled you onto his lap as you spoke, settling you against him and wrapping his arms securely around you before burying his face into your neck. He inhaled you deeply, a new habit he’d established since you’d left Black team as if grounding himself with you.

His breath was warm against your skin when he spoke, “We were able to wrap things up quickly,” He tightened his hold on you with one arm so that he could reach between your bodies with the other and gently place his hand over the slight belly you now had. “How are you two doing? You look so tired, sweetheart.” His tone was laced with worry that you knew you wouldn’t be able to fully quell.

“We’re doing good, Poe, really. Remember what Healer Boyd said—“

Poe sighed, his lips tugging up at the corners, “It’s exhausting work, growing a human?”

You nodded and gave him your best grin, though you imagined it was more sleepy than anything. You studied your husband, from the worry in his face to the bags under his own eyes, the tension in his jaw.

You had sensed there was something he wasn’t saying for a while now but hadn’t figured out how to ask him what was going on. You had no real reason to suspect he was keeping anything from you, it was more of a feeling, and you didn’t want to cause him further stress by accusing him of anything without a better idea of whether you were right.

You usually ended up convincing yourself it was just the weariness and nerves of becoming a parent, a feeling you shared. With how unexpected your pregnancy had been, and the fact that he was off-world more often than not, he must have been feeling a great amount of guilt and concern. So you leaned forward and pressed your lips to his, to distract yourself from everything. To welcome him home and show him you were just fine, that you missed him.

Every time he came home from a mission, the reunions ended up like this—it was like the relief only lasted so long, therefore you each needed to try and extend that feeling by getting yourselves as close to one another as possible. Skin to skin, bodies entwined, the assurance that you were safe and loved. Your hormones were such that even just a casual look from your husband ensured you became slick with need, and it was as though Poe was experiencing his own version of the same, meeting your insatiable desire with his own at every turn.

You loved the feel of him stretching you, tonight you’d barely been able to get out of your pants before he was pulling you back onto his lap and driving into you, the need to feel one another outweighing the parts that usually preceded; foreplay, clothing removal. You were already soaking and ready for him, rolling your hips as he scooted further onto the bed so that he could brace himself to thrust upward. When he found that angle, the one that made you see stars, you let yourself scream; for him, for more, for everything.

Poe delivered, never faltering in his need to ensure you reached your peak over and over, as though he couldn’t feel pleasure unless you did. You’d never known such an unselfish lover as Poe, and it made you love him even more. Even if sometimes, you thought you might combust from the way he pleasured you, or the way he spoke when making love to you.

The reality was, you and Poe had only just begun to explore one another fully when you found out you were expecting. Newlyweds, your relationship still fresh, and then you were with child—his child—and you discovered he wasn’t only passion and sweetness and slow lovemaking, he was also commanding, cocky, and you loved it when that side of him came out.

When you’d started to show—your belly bulging slightly and your breast swelling, that part of Poe seemed to evolve, as though the sight of you swollen with his child was the sexiest thing he could ever imagine. And as you pulled your shirt over your head now, you saw that glint in his eye, the way his pupils blew out as he gazed at you, how he bit his lip before letting out a groan that you swore was the single most erotic sound in the galaxy.

“Like what you see?” You teased, running a hand down your body to rest on your bump, your hips still rolling.

Poe growled, his grip on your hips tightening, “Fuck, you are sexy,” He leaned forward and licked over your breasts as he pounded up into you and you whimpered. “Think about you t-the whole time, when I’m gone, sweet girl.”

“I know, Poe, I miss you too. Think about you when I touch myself-”

Poe’s half-lidded eyes widened, and he was suddenly flipping you carefully onto your back on the bed, his breathing erratic, “Is that true, baby? You touch that pretty cunt while I’m g-gone, wish I was here filling you with my cum?”

He started to rut his hips down at a near brutal pace and you cried out in pleasure, unable to find the words to respond. He didn’t like your silence—commanding, dominating Poe now in full force, and he leaned down to bite a mark into your neck, a snarl tearing from his throat.

He needed to hear you admit it.

“W-wish you could fuck me all the time,” You whispered, your voice cracking as he fucked you into the bed, “Isn’t nearly as—oh shit, Poe I’m gonna-“

Your back arched as the pleasure that had been building up inside of you finally snapped--that hot, wet sensation wiped all coherent thought from your mind, stars painting the inside of your eyelids. You heard yourself repeating his name as you soaked the bed with your orgasm, your walls fluttering and clenching around his cock until-

“Oh sweet girl,” He groaned, his hips stilling as he pressed deep into you and spilled his cum, his body shaking from the force of his orgasm; you clutched him close. He didn’t allow any of his weight to fall over you, pulling out slowly before flopping down onto the bed next to you and tugging you into his side. “You okay? Did I got too hard?”

You were panting, completely blissed-out, and it took a moment for his words to register, “Oh, I’m more than okay, flyboy.” Giggling, you rolled onto your side and peered up at Poe, meeting his warm eyes and smiling. “How about you, are you okay?”

You didn’t mean for the level of concern to show in your voice, but it slipped out and he caught on to it immediately, his eyes never leaving yours as he seemed to consider your question.

After a few minutes of silence, he finally spoke, “I’ll be honest with you, sweetheart, I worry about you...things are—they’re getting intense out there. Leaving you here doesn't feel as much like I’m keeping you safe as it once did. If this base is ever discovered, the First Order will make its destruction top priority. They won’t hesitate to kill every single person on this planet.”

His voice was heavy, the words coming out easily enough that you knew he’d been thinking this for a long time. He sat up, sitting crossed-legged on the bed and staring across the room at nothing, and you felt a sense of dread begin to grow at the back of your mind. You suspected you might be closing in on what he’d been keeping from you, and suddenly felt afraid to know.

“Poe, we have a lot of things in place here to keep us safe. There are escape plans.”

Still looking across the room, Poe gave a small nod of his head, “But none can guarantee your safety. I know you worry about me when I’m gone—well I’m fucking terrified for you, too. And I—I...” He stopped talking, his mouth snapping shut as if he had to physically fight to keep the words in and you frowned, watching him.

You sat up, moving slowly and then reaching down to push the comforter off the bed—it would need to be laundered. You had a few extras for this exact reason. Poe was silent as you moved, his eyes staring unseeingly across the room.

“Poe,” You reached out one hand and touched his shoulder, keeping your voice level despite the nerves coiling in your stomach, “Just say...tell me what you’re thinking.”

Silence.

“Poe Dameron, look at me.” You commanded, and his eyes shot up to meet yours, widening in surprise at the fierce expression on your face.

“I—I’ve got another mission,” He began shakily, a hand coming up to rest over yours on his shoulder, “And it’s big. It’ll just be me and a lot could go wrong, and I can’t stand the idea of leaving you here, that you would stay here if something happened to me.”

You opened your mouth to argue that nothing would happen to him, that, of course, you would stay, only he turned suddenly and brought both hands to cup your jaw, the look of fear on his face like nothing you’d ever seen; you’re Poe didn’t scare, he laughed in the face of fear.

“Sweetheart, I’d be letting you down, letting Charlie down, if I failed to protect you. To protect our baby,” He leaned in and pressed a soft kiss to your lips, and you didn't like how it felt like he was saying something in that kiss. “I spoke to Leia, a few weeks ago. I asked her...begged her to help me keep you safe.”

Your frown deepened, “I work alongside her every day, Poe, I probably have the safest job in the entire Resistance.”

He shook his head, “What I mean is, I asked her where the safest place would be to hide you until this war is over.” Poe was looking at you cautiously now, and you leaned back to assess his face.

His words confused you. You stammered your reply uncertainly, “Hide me? What do you mean—I’m not going-”

Poe’s face tightened, tears now threatening and his voice came out choked, “You know I wouldn’t ask if I didn’t need to, sweet girl. I have to keep you safe, and the truth is if I do get captured and the enemy finds out about you, about both of you, I wouldn’t be able to do that,” Poe dropped one hand to press over your belly, the gesture both sweet and protective. Your ears were ringing, though, and you didn’t have time to appreciate it. “I don’t want to send you away, you know it’s the last thing I’d ever want, but if you go somewhere safe, then I-“

“You can what, Poe? Fight the First Order all on your own? You do realize what you’re saying, right? We both know how this war is going, it could be years before it’s over. Years before...and what if you get caught and they find out where I am? Then what?” You felt your anger and despair growing by the moment, no doubt exacerbated by the flush of hormones coursing through your system.

Poe’s eyes flicked away from yours briefly, and he gulped almost comically before looking back at you and continuing, “Well, Leia thought of that. She seems to think that...our minds aren’t always going to be safe, that the First Order has a weapon that could break through...so she knows where she is going to send you, but I won’t know. No one else will.”

You stared at your husband for a very long, tense moment.

“B-but if you don’t know where I am-“

Poe blinked and several tears began to stream down his face, “It’s the best way, the only way, to do this. And I promise I’ll fight every day to stay alive and then I’ll find you.” He tried to pull you close again only you resisted, pushing his hands away so that you could give him your harshest glare, which he flinched under the heat of.

“What if, Maker forbid, something happens to Leia? I could be anywhere, in any system on any planet, and you’d have no way to find me, you-“ Your voice started to raise, an almost hysterical surge of emotions bubbling up your chest, “It could be years before the war is over and then a decade before you’d be able to find me! That-that’s bullshit, Poe. You’re going to abandon us on some fucking random planet and we could never see you again!”

You were crying now too, the tears blurring your vision as you shouted, refusing to accept this plan. But the sad way he looked at you as he cried told you Poe was serious, that he saw this as the only way forward, and you wanted to fucking scream.

“Sweet girl, I will never abandon you. I love you so much that even if they do somehow capture me, I won’t ever break, I’ll keep fighting and then if I have to tear this entire galaxy apart, I’ll find you. I promise I will find you,” He wiped harshly at his face, then grabbed your hands and held them tightly in his own, his expression desperate, “I want to meet our baby and watch them grow. I want to give them a sibling or two, even, and grow old together. Leia has everything figured out--she’s even going to have my dad flown here; he can go with you, so you won’t be alone.”

You wrenched your hands from Poe’s and shot off the bed, your eyes widening in betrayal, “Leia has everything figured out?” You repeated, and you saw the realization of what his words had revealed flash across his face, “You-when exactly did you think I was going to get shipped off, Poe?”

He didn’t answer, and you thought back to the beginning of this conversation when he’d claimed to have a big mission in a few days. You gaped at him as the realization hit that he was here for the next several days to get you ready to leave.

To say goodbye.

You burst into tears, heavy sobs pulling from your chest because there was no arguing this, was there? If you didn’t go, he could be out there too worried about you to be focused and then it would be your fault, wouldn’t it? And he was right, this base, even if you were glued to Leia twenty-four-seven, was still a hot zone for attack should its location ever be revealed to the First Order.

And did you truly expect to raise your baby on this base? There wasn’t even any space in this room you shared with Poe for a fucking crib, no places you could go to play, no other children for your child to play with. You had known all this the moment you’d found out you were pregnant, but now the reality of it all was crashing down around you because you’d never thought it would mean having to leave Poe. Again.

Another thought occurred to you, and you ignored the way he was trying to soothe you, now sitting on the edge of the bed but keeping his distance, his expression making clear he wanted to pull you back into his arms.

“What if I don’t want any of that?”

Poe tilted his head, confused, “What do you mean?”

“What if I told you I was staying, that I would have the baby and then you could go get shipped off somewhere safe with them, that I wanted to be the one to stay and fight?”

Poe gaped at you only for a beat, “You said—sweetheart, I asked you if you wanted this and you said you did, I thought that meant you wanted to stay with the baby, that you were okay with leaving the fight. I never wanted you to feel forced to do it!”

“I know,” You agreed evenly, your voice hardening, “But I didn’t know that it meant I was going to be fucking shipped away, Poe!”

You saw him falter then, his entire argument crumbling and he slumped where he sat on the edge of the bed, his head falling into his hands, “You’re right...I’m so sorry, of course, I can’t just expect you to...Fuck.” His shoulders shook as he tried to bite back his sobs, and for a moment you stared down at him, his words doing nothing to calm you.

Because he wasn’t wrong. Sure, it was a misstep for him to just assume as the mother that you would be the one to go away and raise the baby, it was old-school thinking. But you were aware of who you married, weren’t you?

He was the best pilot in the Resistance, the strongest fighter, the best of the best. If anyone was going to win this war, it would be your Poe—and while you used to think it would include you being at his side, fighting right along with him, that was no longer the reality. You couldn’t pull the best chance the Rebels had from the fight, and you couldn’t stay and fight yourself.

Which meant you had to leave.

You stepped forward and knelt before Poe, your hands tentatively touching his thighs and he started, his head popping up, “Oh sweetheart, don’t crouch down like that-“

“I’m fine,” You interjected, sliding between his knees and reaching up to cup his face, mirroring the way he’d embraced you so many times before, “And you...you’re right. I’m sorry for—well, I hate how you’ve just sprung this on me, but I know I can’t stay here and raise our baby like this.”

Poe searched your face and you wiped your thumbs under his eyes to clear away the tears, even as the reality of what you were agreeing to settled within you. He shook his head lightly, “I didn’t know how to do this. It’s the last thing...we only just found each other again, the idea of not knowing where you are, not being able to check-in, it terrifies me, sweetheart.”

You sniffled, nodding your head, “You aren’t going to be there when I...” You trailed off, the picture in your head of giving birth without Poe by your side too hard to say aloud. He understood, pulling you close against him as he dropped to the floor, hugging you tightly as you both sobbed.

“I’m so sorry,” He murmured, one hand stroking your hair, “I promise I will find you the moment I can, and I’ll never leave your side again.”

You couldn’t help but think, at that moment, that you had been right.

The dream really was a nightmare.

35 ABY - Aboard The Falcon - Sinta Glacier Colony

Poe looked up as a distant noise sounded, peering around Chewbacca to see a wall of Tie-fighters approaching where they were docked in the Falcon. He shared a terrified look with the Wookie.

“FINN! We’re about to be cooked!” He shouted back, hoping that the transmission of the message from their unknown spy in the First Order was nearly complete-they needed to get going.

“We’re almost there!” Finn hollered back, his voice cutting off as he ran to check R2D2, and after a tense moment...“We’ve got it, Poe!”

Poe didn’t hesitate, meeting Chewie’s eyes briefly before launching the Falcon forward and away from the informant, the knowledge heavy in his mind that there was a good chance Ovissian Boolio was going to be murdered for giving them the message. But there was nothing to be done for it now; this message was of vital importance to the Resistance, they needed to get it back to base.

The Falcon raced through the bay as fighters gained on their rear. Poe had no doubt that Finn was hurrying to the shooter station, but maintained the high speed and steered as carefully as he could. They hit a corner a little close and there was a shudder throughout the ship as it made contact.

Chewie exclaimed worriedly at this, “I’m sorry, I know, I know!” Poe apologized, frantically readjusting as they heard Finn begin to fire from below. He could see a lot of bogeys on the radar still, “Finn, you’re supposed to be getting rid of those things!”

He heard Finn make a noise before he shouted back, “Got one!”

“How many are left?” Poe swivelled in his seat and started making adjustments to the ship's systems, an idea forming in his mind. Not his best, but definitely not his worst.

“Too many!” Came the response from below. Shit.

The next few moments were incredibly tense as they worked together to outmaneuver the enemies on their tail until each one crashed or was shot down by Finn. Adrenaline was running high aboard the Falcon now as the near-death moments started to pile atop one another. Mission success was currently not guaranteed. Your image appeared in his mind briefly, the memory of the last time he had seen you, the love in your eyes.

He swallowed, swerving the ship up and seeing another wall of fighters ahead, “How thick do you think that ice is?” He asked Chewie, who made a loud noise in caution but Poe only gunned it forward, until relief swept through him—they were able to break through, free of the station and in open space now.

There were still fighters in pursuit, though, so they weren’t in the clear yet. Poe gritted his teeth, briefly glancing over his shoulder to see Finn standing behind him, before bringing the ship into light speed. When he pulled back out, most of the ships had managed to follow and after a bit of complicated flying, he put the Falcon back into light speed as Finn shouted in fear from behind him.

“What are you doing?” Finn cried, gripping the back of his seat. Poe fiddled with the controls, fully aware he was pushing the ship to its limits but not willing to go down without exhausting every last effort to survive.

“Light speed skipping,” He grunted in reply, reaching up to set his parameters with one eye on the fighters still in pursuit.

“How do you know how to do that?”

Poe hit the throttle forward, throwing the ship back out of light speed, “My wife.” He replied, leaning forward and steering around the onslaught of obstacles in their direct path, simultaneously readying the ship to jump again. He heard Finn begin to react to the knowledge the Poe had been married, surprise evident in his friend’s tone, but Chewbacca’s words of caution were louder and Poe glared at him instead, “Yeah, well Rey’s not here, is she?”

He gunned it into light speed, then almost as quickly pulled them back out. His stomach was in his throat as a very large, very alive obstacle was now dead ahead, and Poe silently thanked you for having taught him about light speed jumping before readying the ship to jump again.

“Last jump,” He yelled, leaning forward, “Maybe forever-hold on!”

When they landed the Falcon back on Ajan Kloss, Poe was furious beyond all measure. It wasn’t just that he’d nearly died, again. Almost cost the lives of his friends, again. It was that Rey hadn’t been there, and she was one of the best pilots he’d ever met. She was almost as good as him, nearly as good as you had been. He was heartbroken that you weren’t there to fight anymore—but Rey was and yet she chose to stay on base and train when her joining them on a mission like this would have been a much-needed boost, a much greater chance at survival.

They hurried off the Falcon and Poe lingered momentarily to instruct the ground team, “It’s on fire! Whole things on fire!” Maker, he was getting tired of these close calls. He’d been through a lot—survived a great deal, over this last year, but today was close enough that he had felt the hands of death creeping toward him, momentarily.

When he turned away from the burning ship, Rey was approaching, her face excited despite the condition of the Falcon. He marched over to her with his face straining, attempting to keep his cool.

“Hi! There’s a spy?” She asked brightly, her gaze surveying his stiff posture.

Poe huffed, “Really could have used your help out there.” He admitted, unable to keep the vitriol entirely out of his tone.

Rey frowned, then attempted to change the subject. “How’d it go?”

Poe stopped before her, hands landing on his hips, anger flaring, “Really bad, actually. Really bad.”

“Hans ship!” She exclaimed then, gazing over at the burning Falcon and gesturing in dismay.

Before he could reply, BB8 came whizzing up to Poe, beeping excitedly in greeting. At first, he was happy to see the orange and white droid, until he looked down and realized it was pretty beat up. He glared up at Rey, “What did you do to the droid?”

“What’d you do to the Falcon?” She countered stubbornly, her arms crossing.

“Falcon’s in a lot better shape than he is, Rey!” He exclaimed, gesturing at BB8 incredulously. This was why he found her difficult-here she was, safely on base ‘training’, with the one task of minding his droid. And not only did she fail at that, but she also dared to get angry at him for getting Finn and Chewie, the intel, and himself back safely to base.

“BB8 is not on fire, Poe!”

“What’s left of him isn’t on fire!” He shouted, knowing full well that this was about more than his droid and yet struggling to see past his rage and form a proper sentence in Basic.

Rey seemed to sense his anger and took a breath, steadying herself, “Tell me what happened.”

“You tell me first, Rey.” He deadpanned, scowling.

Rey glared straight back at him, holding up her hands in frustration, “You know what you are—you’re difficult. A difficult, stubborn man.”

“You—you are-” Poe cut himself off as he heard Finn call for Rey from behind him, and instead stepped around her to drop before his droid, shaking his head. “You okay, buddy?”

BB8 beeped merrily, sharing with Poe what had happened that afternoon but cutting off to ask if he was alright. Poe sighed, running his hands over his face, but nodded to his droid.

“I’m alright. Just thinking about her a lot today,” He admitted quietly, “Now what happened to you?”

Before BB8 could reply, Chewbacca yelled to Rey and Poe heard his name mentioned before she was walking toward him again, this time with Finn in tow. “You light speed skipped?”

“Yeah, well it got us back here, didn’t it?” He shot back, his hackles raising again. Finn caught Poe’s eye, his expression bright with curiosity—he wanted to know more about you, no doubt.

“You can’t light speed skip the Falcon!” Rey cried in exasperation, her eyes wide and for one moment, Poe wanted to scream. He’d come this close to dying today and had managed to get them all home safely, even if it did mean the Falcon needed a lot of repairs. She couldn’t just thank him, maybe?

His voice was rough when he replied, “Turns out you can, actually.”

Rey’s eyebrows shot up, “How do you even know-“

Finn interjected this time, “Turns out our friend here hasn’t been completely honest with us, eh, Poe?” He grinned, glancing from Rey to Poe, then winked, attempting to diffuse the tension.

With a sigh, Poe frowned before responding. Stepping closer to his friends, he kept his voice low. “That information stays between us, and Chewie, Finn.” He’d mentioned you in the heat of the moment and wasn’t sure if he was ready to talk about you. But he’d spent an awfully long time holding back his truth from Rey and Finn and it was starting to feel wrong.

“What information?” Rey looked between them, confused.

When Poe looked at her, he hesitated, his gaze hardening while he considered what he was about to tell her. He trusted Rey, and Finn for that matter, but he’d chosen to keep quiet about you all this time for a reason, and it was hard to break down those walls and talk about you. He’d built them up to protect himself, to keep his pain and sorrow buried down deep.

Poe pointed between them both, his jaw set, “Between us!” He growled, giving them both a harsh look.

Finn clapped Poe on the shoulder, eyes serious, “Of course it does, man. Between us.” He agreed, and Rey nodded, her eyes wide with curiosity.

Poe hesitated for another moment, and then finally confessed.

“I’m married. You uh...you know about my best friend, Charlie...” Poe began and Rey’s expression became understanding while Finn merely gaped, his brows knitting together now in confusion.

“Charlie died,” Rey whispered sadly, recalling the conversation they’d shared a few months prior after Han had died and they were discussing loss. “And didn’t you say...you told us his sister died too—Maker, Poe-!”

Finn gasped, his face morphing in horror, “Brother, you aren’t saying your wife is d-“

Poe couldn’t even stand to hear the words, so he cut Finn off with a rough shake of his head, peering around to ensure no one overheard. “No, that’s just what Leia and I let everyone believe, who knew her. She’s alive.”

Finn’s shoulders relaxed somewhat, but Rey kept frowning at Poe, her expression uncertain. “Why did people need to think she was dead? She was one of the best fighters we had, wasn’t she? If she’s alive, can’t she come back?”

Poe shook his head, the emotions he’d held in this past year threatening to spill, and he had to pull in a few breaths to focus. He wanted his friends to understand why he kept fighting, why living and winning were so fucking important.

“I had to send her away, not long before I met you, actually, Finn,” Poe smiled at him, “I don’t know where she is, I haven’t seen or heard from her since I said goodbye, back on D’Qar. I had to ensure she was safe, even if I got captured. And no one could get her location out of me if I didn’t know it. So she’s out there, somewhere, and one day I’m going to ask both of you to come with me to meet her.”

He wiped aggressively at his face, hating the tears that spilled, and waited for their replies. At first, they were both quiet, regarding Poe with dawning comprehension, suddenly understanding exactly what he was saying.

Finn was the first to speak, his voice laced with sadness, “You haven’t seen her for over a year?”

Poe shook his head, and Rey reached out and touched his shoulder gently, her eyes softening, “You said you had to send her away...what does that mean, Poe?”

He gazed down at his feet for a moment, and when he looked up he guessed he must not have kept the emotion off of his face, as each of his friends looked at him in surprise, stilling entirely as they waited for him to reply.

“There wasn’t anything in this galaxy that could ever stop her from fighting. She was my second in command, and would still be to this day, only she-” He thought of you then, how you had long since delivered the baby, wondered how that had been for you, whether you’d recovered well. He knew his dad would be doing everything to keep you both comfortable and safe until Poe could come for you all. His heart still ached. “It’s a long story, I guess. But she got pregnant, and we both realized she couldn’t stay on D’Qar—which was the right call, because look what happened there. Leia smuggled her somewhere far away and didn’t tell me a single detail.”

Rey had brought a hand to cover her mouth in shock, while Finn’s grip on his shoulder had tightened substantially. They both stared at Poe, their expressions a mixture of sadness and joy that he felt every day.

“Poe, man, that’s incredible,” Finn breathed, shaking his head slowly, “You have...a family, you have-“

Poe cut him off with a small smile, “I’ve got a wife and a baby out there somewhere. They’re waiting for me to finish this fight and find them.”

Taglist

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

#poe dameron x reader #poe dameron #reader insert #fanfic #fluff #night changes series #angst #multichapter #friends to lovers #star wars #poe x you #poe x reader #poe dameron x female reader #poe dameron smut #finn and poe #rey skywalker #oscar isaac #star wars day #star wars series

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comfortwriting · 4 years ago

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Prankster and the Prefect - F.W

Masterlist, Requesting Rules, Writing Prompts

Fred Weasley x Fem Ravenclaw Reader

Prompt 11: Screaming for your life, you were suddenly silenced by the hand that covered your mouth.

Requested/About: Fred, the class clown and ultimate prankster meets the stereotypical perfect Ravenclaw prefect through his brother George. Upon their first interaction together, she already hates him and he already wants her more than any other girl at Hogwarts - but when the two of them are trapped in the broom closet together, everything changes.

Warnings: swearing, losing virginity, smut, mention of erotic literature.

In any other world, you and Fred would most likely be causing havoc together - pranking people, skipping class and getting up to no good, but in this world no such thing would happen; because you’re the perfect prefect who puts your education first.

In any other world, you and Fred would most likely be prefects together - comparing your grades on each test, polishing your badges together and ensuring that no one is breaking any rules or causing trouble at Hogwarts; but in this world no such thing would happen because Fred is the trouble maker, who would rather be classed as a criminal than a prefect.

Little did you know, your worlds would collide.

Walking into Muggle Studies bright and early, you sat down and got your books, parchment, feather quill and ink pot out of your heavy bag and neatly organised them on your desk. Looking across the room, everyone else was already here, ties of blue, yellow, green and red sparkled across the room; everyone in pairs but you.

Professor Burbage eyed the room and sighed when she spotted the empty chair next to you but without hesitating she began the class.

“Today the person you are sat with is going to be your partner for your upcoming project” she announced.

George Weasley entered the class with his head down, slightly embarrassed by his late arrival, he sat down next to you without any of his study materials - he went even redder in the face noticing your neat display.

You chuckled and shook your head, reaching back into your bag and pulling out a spare parchment, feather quill and ink pot. Pushing the extras across the desk, George smiled, his eyes meeting yours.

“Thanks” he murmured softly.

You smiled at the shy Gryffindor “Anytime, keep them.”

George Weasley wasn’t a stranger in your life at Hogwarts, you didn’t know him but you knew of him before he paired up with you in that class. You were aware he and his twin brother got up to no good with their pranks and skiving snack boxes - but getting to know him and to spend time with him one on one made you like him a lot more than you thought you ever would, striking an unlikely friendship.

“Come on Georgie!” Fred begged “introduce us, she must be one of a kind if you’re able to be friends with a prefect”

George sighed and continued to walk around the library, you were sitting at a desk with your head in a book, reading everything you could about Muggles.

“Alright, Y/N?” George called out.

You looked up from your book recognising the voice and met eyes with George, smiling at him, you noticed his twin brother standing behind him, smirking.

“Hey George-”

Fred barged in front of his brother and out stretched his hand, a grin spreading across his face.

“Hello gorgeous, I’ve heard so much about you”

You stated back at him and cocked up a brow and refused to shake his hand.

“We’re running out of studying time, George”

It was from that first interaction that Fred became crazy about you - each and every time he laid eyes on you, the hunger in his heart growled for more.

Fred wanted you, he would make sure that you would become his - no matter what and he didn’t shy away from making you know it. Each and every time he passed you, Fred would compliment you and flirt with you, sending winks your way; wanting you more than he did the day before.

You ignored each and every compliment and wink, rolling your eyes and disliking Fred even more than usual - you would rather have a full on conversation with him than deal with his flirting.

George spent less time with you over the rest of the month, you found yourself alone in the library and alone in Muggle Studies - you knew wherever George went, Fred would be with him.

The twins started to mess with a box full of snakes outside the Trophy room, eager to finally get the adrenaline they had been chasing.

“Okay Freddie, I think it’s ready” George murmured, looking around.

Fred smirked “about time, now remember, Georgie -”

“Do not get caught and do not draw any attention, got it!”

Fred walked into the tight fitting broom closet and hid behind the door, waiting for his brother.

Walking down the halls in your Ravenclaw house colour sleeveless and short dress, you noticed George looking quite flustered but with his ‘trick up his sleeve’ expression, you had missed him and you really wanted to catch up.

“Hey, George!” you yelled out, waving your hand and running over to him.

George wanted to ignore you and turn away but he couldn’t, he couldn’t ever shun a friend, but he didn’t have time for chitchat. Fred could hear you talking to George through the door, your back turned against it, he opened the door slowly and silently, peeking out.

Fred had to bite his lip at the sight of you, your glowing shoulders, your stunning legs - his desire for you burning even more with each second that passed.

“I’m really sorry Y/N but I’ve got to get going” George interrupted “I promise we’ll catch up later.”

Before you could protest, George grabbed his box and hurried away down the halls, you stayed still and sighed, watching him move further and further away.

Fred opened the door wider and managed to get himself up, he grabbed you by the arm, hoping to have more of a conversation with you than his brother. Screaming for your life you were suddenly silenced by the hand that covered your mouth.

Fred pulled you back into the broom closet and slammed the door “Shhh” he whispered “quiet love, don’t want us to get caught, if George finds us he’ll kill me.” Fred stood behind you, pressed up against the wall.

The grin on Fred’s lips spread out in seconds, your heart pounding inside your chest - not only for the sudden fright but for being in such a tight space with the hottest lad you had ever seen; you wanted to leave, make a fuss, but you didn’t want to get George in trouble.

“I’ll only stay quiet if you tell me what's going on”

As if on cue, a series of loud bangs trailed through the school, then loud crackles and whistling.

“This” Fred replied, chuckling.

You sighed, you could be out in the sun but you were stuck in some dingy broom closet which started to tick you off “can I leave now?” you huffed.

“patience, love - don’t want to ruin your perfect, stainless reputation, do you?”

Staying silent you shook your head, the tightness of the broom closet closing in on you, causing you to squeeze up against Fred - your behind pressing against his crotch, your back against his chest, your hair against his face - your scent driving him insane. Your feet began to hurt from standing up on the spot for so long, you moved from side to side, grinding against Fred’s upper thigh.

Fred groaned beneath his breath, unable to stop himself.

“are you okay?” you asked innocently.

“I’m fine!” Fred growled “J-Just stop moving - turn around!”

You turned and tried to keep still but you couldn’t - the pain was unbearable and you could only gain comfort by having movement.

Fred grabbed your shoulders trying to hold you in place, the tension between the two of you brewing like a potion out of control. Unable to keep you still, Fred instantly grabbed your hips, his hot breath hitting you.

“Please stop moving, I’m begging you, stop!”

“I’m sorry but I can’t!” you hissed “you dragged me in here, if I stop moving my feet will hurt!” you pushed against his grip, your hips accidently brushing against Fred’s cock - instantly starting to harden in his trousers.

Fred released a pain growl, his hungry eyes burning into you, you felt your cheeks heat up, this had never happened to you before, you only read about this sort of interaction in your books.

You smirked and turned back around, no longer facing Fred and began to grind your behind against him in circular motions - your curiosity getting the better of you.

“You’re making it worse” Fred groaned against your shoulder, his soft lips grazing your skin.

Getting the hang of what you were doing, Fred pushed his head back against the wall “Please don’t break the promise I made with George” he groaned “fuck, I’ve wanted this since I first saw you.”

“what promise?” you asked, feeling his large hard on poke into you.

“I’m really into you Y/N, George knows it, he made me promise not to pursue you because... you’re a virgin, you can’t lose your virginity in a broom closet, it should be in a nice comfy bed - covered in rose petals and that lot to a long term boyfriend.”

Feeling yourself slightly annoyed from the ridiculous stereotype and for your ‘experience level’ to be broadcasted, you turned to face Fred and glared at him.

“I think the topic of me being a virgin should be kept between me and myself, it’s no one else's business!”

Smashing your lips against Fred’s, the two of you exchanged a beautiful, yet heated kiss - taking the more charismatic twin by surprise. Your hands landed on Fred’s belt, your fingers fiddling with the buckle, trying to undo it.

Fred stopped you “wait, are you sure? we don’t have to-”

“Of course I’m sure, did I stutter?”

Fred grinned and went back to kissing you, his belt falling to the floor, along with his trousers, now sitting around his ankles. Fred’s gentle hand trailed up your dress, his fingers grazing against your thigh before hooking the hem of your thong, he pulled it down and stuffed your thong into his robe pocket, he put on a condom on his large length and applied lube.

“Jump” he ordered softly.

Doing as you were told, Fred held you whilst your legs wrapped around his hips, he gave you one last look and he slowly pushed himself inside of you slowly, instantly moaning out at the feeling on your walls tightening around him. Biting your lip you whimpered, getting used to his size and the new feeling you were about to experience.

Fred moved towards the door so you could rest against it rather than the cold stone wall, his forehead rested against yours after he peppered loving kisses against it, nuzzling his nose against yours lovingly.

“You’re so bloody gorgeous” Fred smiled “you feel incredible.”

Fred continued to penetrate you and you slowly got used to this new feeling of pleasure surging inside of you. Looking up and making eye contact with Fred, you blushed and the two of you shared a giggle.

You remembered what the main character did in the book and so you began to do that to Fred, grinding against him, moving your hips in circular motions, his length burying deeper inside of you - Fred had never felt this before - and he thought he was pretty good when it came to sex.

Just as Fred was about to continue, you could hear footsteps coming closer to the door and the voice of a Professor draw closer, before Fred could react fast enough, the door opened. Fred moved back, almost falling and you just about go to your feet - but it was too late - your position, Fred’s trousers around his ankles, and your underwear peeking out from his pocket said it all - hell, he was still inside of you.

Professor McGonagall’s eyes widened at the sight of you - a perfect, Ravenclaw, straight A prefect doing such a thing but when she saw Fred, she swallowed hard, still glaring and now flustered, she turned back and closed the door.

Fred let out a nervous shaky breath and started to laugh, you tried not to but you started laughing with him, the two of you pink and slightly embarrassed from such an encounter, but you knew this wasn’t Fred’s first rodeo.

Fred pulled his boxers and trousers up, you passed him his belt whilst you fixed your hair and got the creases out of your dress. Fred pulled your thong out of his pocket, trying to hand them back to you.

“Oh, no thanks, keep them” you smiled.

Fred cocked a brow “why?”

“Well, I need a good reason to meet up with you next week, you can give them back to me then.”

Fred grinned and peppered kisses along your neck, the two of you chuckling and laughing like you had been on the worlds most amazing date. Leaving the broom closet, Fred walked by your side, the two of you chatting about his prank and where George went.

“Hey, before you go, Y/N, I’ve got a question.”

“what is it Freddie?”

“I know for a fact you were a virgin up until a few minutes ago”

You nodded your head “uh yeah, that's right”

Fred grinned again “are you sure you’ve never done anything like that before?”

You laughed and looked into his gorgeous eyes, the two of you now outside in the sun.

“Positive” you replied

Fred looked defeated for a moment “So tell me, love, how did you know what to do and how to do it?”

You scoffed and rolled your eyes “Freddie my dear, it’s called Erotic Literature, open a book and read for a change.”

Tags: @reeophidian @inglourious-imagines @alwaysnforeverfangirl @amourtentiaa @lucymfer

#fred weasley #fred weasley x reader #fred weasley fanfiction #fred weasley x you #fred weasley imagine #george weasley #george wealsey x reader #george wealsey imagine #george weasley fanfiction #George Weasley one shot #harry potter #harry potter fanfiction #Harry Potter fanfic #fred and george #Weasley #ron weasley

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yostresswritinggirl · 2 years ago

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I should be doing the RRL’s for my thesis and preparing for the oral defense rn but God damn am i brain rotting so hard rn. I still have all the brainrots i had from days ago and even new ones (I’m too hyperfixated on Al Ahmar and the Goddess of Flowers rn that all i can think about is the angst ) haunting me 24/7. But mother you, borg and cyno lovebot anon reading through your guys brainrots reminded me of some I had when I first read “What the heart offers.”

I think he'd even start to think that the reader finally caught up to the rumors and gossips, succumbed to the discrimination and started replacing him with the forest scholars oof the betrayal, the pain - confrontation with him as the student is FAR more aggressive than the slow burn on the original setup.

This was literally one of them, because I really thought that at the end of the story when the reader lost their memories, it meant that their whole memories of their time with Cyno.

But since I hadn’t thought of the half heart situation at that time, instead of him aggressively asking the reader, I just imagined that even though he wanted to approach the reader he couldn’t, for fear of hurting them again and the memories of their barely breathing body bloodied up inside the ruins would always haunt him.

The day of the accident, being the day he could confidently say was the day his life just basically fell apart, as from that day onward he lost the only person who made him feel loved and cared, the only person in the akademiya who was his pillar and his light against the dark gazes of the other scholars, but now all that was left now is someone who looks at him in distain for being a child born from the dessert

So even if it pained him he just slowly watched as the reader turn like everyone in the akademiya, leaving him all alone which wouldn’t be much of a difference from before he met the reader, but now there will forever be a hole in his heart (Ironically) where he could only fill it up with guilt for not being enough to protect them.

Bonus: Cyno would still be protective of the reader who even now unknowingly still has his beaten up heart in their grasps. That no matter how reader of today has changed to one who has turned to hate him, hate him all they want but that won’t change how his heart would only belong to them and only them. He would also occasionally visit them at night like how he visits collei, passing by just to check if they’re safe and sound and if there isn’t danger lurking near their home.

I’d love to add more to this brainrot but rn my brain is currently dead and I’m still gonna proceed to murder it further since I have yet to finish the thesis.

Also mother… since when… did we have a geovishap…?

- Lady in the lake anon

(P.S I’ve tried writing, technically still am since I’m a literary editor for my uni’s student publication, before and let’s just say the story was better written in my head)

Oh my goodness, the moment you mentioned those words, I immediately looked at my hardbound thesis and shuddered (I almost forgot it existed) I am still healing, please be mindful when talking about research /j

But hey goddamnit not again with yall brainrotting and not doing school shit, go away! On the other hand, if you need advice or questions, I'm here for that too!

(I've always been hyperfixated on the scarlet king and goddess of flowers since I heard of them, I need more of their lore gdi) It's so funny how What The Heart Offers pretty much transcended past the fic itself and now have so many versions, I'm starting to get confused of it myself haha

Glad we have the same brain but that's so mean, I can't possibly think of that myself hhh! But it's so true isn't it, actually much worse if the roles are reversed where he's the one with the memory loss, ughfhufhfh but geezus you're really tearing Cyno apart here come on skdbdoanwnajdo

Oh we've had a geovishap since long ago! Our primo geovishap is spiriteddreams haha

(nah you did fantastic shush!)

#heart!cyno #lady in the lake #exile.goblet #exile.reader #about deepwood #dandi

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gabzlovesu · 3 years ago

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𝐓𝐡𝐞 𝐍𝐚𝐧𝐚𝐦𝐢𝐬 - 𝐓𝐡𝐫𝐨𝐮𝐠𝐡 𝐭𝐡𝐞 𝐒𝐭𝐨𝐫𝐦 (𝐩𝐭. 𝟑)

nanami x black!reader

Song: Collide by Tiana Major9 and EARTHGANG

Warnings: blood, mention of self-harm, depression, car accident (let me know if I missed anything)

Summary: Nanami regrets his actions and tries to find Y/N, only for her to be worse off than he thought.

Note: Nanami’s thoughts are in italics. Also, don’t judge me if I got the medical stuff wrong y'all, I literally used the little knowledge I learned from my A&P classes as well as Grey’s Anatomy, so go easy on me...

Previously…

Nanami was currently sitting in a dark, empty classroom. After seeing you and having a rather stressful training session with his students, he just needed some time to himself. He’s always been composed, but he was finding it hard to keep up the act when his entire world was crumbling at his feet.

I had no choice but to do what I did -- it was the only responsible decision. If anything were to happen to Y/N because I was a jujutsu sorcerer, I would never be able to forgive myself. She’s better off without me anyway, I know there’s someone out there who could make her happier than I ever could.

To Nanami, this made perfect sense but there was something that made him regret his actions: when he looked at you today, all he saw was pain; the sweet and happy Y/N that he knew was no longer there, instead, he saw a broken woman with a heart full of misery. The sparkle in your eyes that he loved so much was gone.

It’s all my fault. I caused the very thing that I wanted to prevent: you getting hurt. I was an asshole and now you’ll never forgive me, but I don’t deserve you anyway.

Before Nanami could continue berating himself, his phone started ringing. He didn’t need to be pestered by Gojo right now so he declined the call. Yet, his calls didn’t stop, so Nanami gives up and answers the phone.

“What Gojo? I’m not really in the mood for --”

“It’s Y/N. She’s been gone for like three hours. She told me she was going to her father’s grave and I haven’t heard from her. I checked her last location and it was near the school, could you please go check it out?” Hearing this news makes Nanami begin to worry, immediately thinking the worst. “I don’t know what Y/N has been dealing with lately but I do know that she needs you, so please find her.”

“Send me the address.” Without hesitation, Nanami grabs his coat and heads to his car. Nanami could count on one hand the number of times he’s ever been serious, but hearing the concern in his voice and the way he begged, he knew that Gojo meant every word.

_____

When Nanami was about halfway there he had a feeling that something bad happened to you, so he called an ambulance just in case. Why else you be on a road in the middle of nowhere for hours? The closest hospital was twenty minutes away, but he was only ten minutes away from your location so he was preparing himself to provide first-aid until the professionals arrived.

He finally arrived, but you were nowhere to be seen, and the fact that it was dark and raining didn’t help at all. Nanami gets out of the car and starts searching for you, yelling your name and hoping you’ll respond. While his heart fills with panic, he prays to the heavens for your safety.

I’ve already lost her once, I can’t lose her again. Even if I can’t get her back, I just need to tell her how sorry I am and how much I truly love her.

“Y/N please, if you’re out there say something.” He walks a little further down the road and looks into the vast darkness extending past the tree line. He smells something burning over in that direction, so he looks around with his flashlight as he steps into the ditch.

The scene he saw before him made his heart stop: Your car was crumpled and turned on its side. All of the windows were shattered and dark smoke was coming from the engine. “Fuck,” was all Nanami could say before rushing over and checking if you were still in the car. Luckily the heavy rain stopped your car from erupting into flames.

He crouches down and peers through the opening that used to be the sunroof; he can see you lying on the driver’s side windows with your back to him. Your clothes protected your skin from the glass but they were ripped in the process and you managed to get a scar on the back of your neck. His eyes continue to scan your body, then he notices the piece of glass piercing your abdomen.

“No, no, no,” Nanami begins muttering to himself. He was wise enough to not remove the glass, preventing you from bleeding out, but he needed to retrieve you from the car. The glass was too large to fit both you and it through the sun roof; his other option was to try the front window, which had a lot of sharp glass and the possibility of hitting the engine.

Without wasting anymore more time he rips off his jacket, unbothered by the cool air of night, and wraps it around his arm to knock out the rest of the front window. Nanami gently turns your body so you’re laying on your back and begins to slide you through the window while being careful not to move the protruding glass.

The noise of faint sirens disrupts the silence just as Nanami frees you from the car. He checks your pulse which is weak; he checks your breathing next, and it’s also weak. Although your condition could be better, he feels a little relieved that there’s still a chance for you to live.

The ambulance pulls up and two paramedics hop out with a stretcher. “She has a faint pulse and her breathing is weak and irregular. She’s been out here for a few hours.” They thank Nanami for the information as they place your cold body on the stretcher and cover you with a thermal blanket.

“I suspect hypothermia due to the patient being in the cold rain for an extended period of time. Let’s bag her and stabilize her neck in case she sustained trauma to her spine. We’re out of warm compresses so I’ll insert an IV with warm fluids to start reheating her body.” Nanami lets the paramedics work in peace, only speaking to answer their questions.

_____

Nanami watches you through the window in the hall. The paramedics kept your body stable until you reached the hospital to receive treatment. The piece of glass, which narrowly missed your liver, was successfully removed; yet, the fact that you were still unconscious was concerning. The doctors believe you have a concussion since your head CT scans came back clean.

“How’s she doing?,” Gojo asks as he walks up to the blonde man. When you were being treated in the ambulance, Nanami called him and let him know which hospital you were being taken to; he knows how much he cares about you so he’ll endure his presence for now.

“Y/N’s stable, but they don’t know when she’ll wake up.” Both men enter your room, Nanami stands by the wall while Gojo goes right to your side to hold your hand.

“Do you know what’s been going on with Y/N lately? I’ve never seen her like this before, and I don’t know what to do. I’ve been there for her the best I can but nothing I do helps.” The white-haired man looks over to Nanami, eyes desperate for any information or advice he could get from someone he deemed a friend.

Nanami had nothing to offer; all he gave was a sigh and lowered his head in response. “Does it have to do with you, Nanami? I noticed the two of you haven’t really seen each other since I found her in her apartment, and she hasn’t been talking about you like she usually does.” Still, Nanami stares at the ground teeming with guilt.

“You bastard look at me! What did you do to Y/N? Are you the reason all of this happened?” Gojo has never reached this level of anger with Nanami before, after all, he had so much respect for the man. But when it came to you, nobody could hurt you and get away unscathed.

Gojo wasn’t the only one with emotions running high; his outburst pushes Nanami to the breaking point. He punches the wall, shaking with rage, and finally responds. “You think I wanted this to happen? I loved her more than you could ever know. I was just trying to protect her and make sure she ended up being happy!”

With that Gojo releases your hand and gets in Nanami’s face. “Oh really? How many times have you told yourself that lie to feel better?” He grabs Nanami by his shirt. “I could really fuck you up for what you did to her,” he growls through his teeth.

“Why are y’all so loud,” you question softly as you hold your head. You last remember being in the car, but now you’re suddenly in the hospital and awoken by Nanami and Gojo arguing with each other.

“Nanami was just leaving,” Gojo says without even turning to you, instead he kept his eyes on Nanami, daring him to say something. Wanting to avoid further confrontation, Nanami turns to go but you stop him.

“Stay. We need to talk. Could you please give us a few minutes Gojo?” As much as it pained you to look at the man who broke your heart, you couldn’t help but notice his solemn expression and want to try to salvage your relationship.

“Ten minutes, that’s all he gets. I’ll be out in the hall so shout for me if you need me Y/N.” Gojo leaves the two of you to talk, but not without eyeing Nanami as he goes out the door. Although you know his intentions were good, you wish Gojo would stop being so hard on Nanami; the pain he’s feeling is plastered on his face, so how could he not see it?

“Come sit,” you gesture to the chair next to you. He hesitates at first, but Nanami eventually sits, continuing to stare at the floor. “When you came to my place that night, what did you mean that you couldn’t protect me and give me the happy ending I want?”

The man who was always put together and stoic was now breaking down right before your eyes; it was a sight you would never forget. “I was afraid,” he says through his tears. “I was afraid that I could never give you what you wanted, even it was a simple as just being happy. Being with you endangers your life in ways you can’t even begin to imagine, Y/N.” He looks up at you, hoping you’ll believe him while he’s in his most vulnerable state ever; you’re the first person he’s ever let witness this side of him.

“How would I be in danger, Kento?” You see an internal struggle within him after you ask that question like he’s keeping information from you. “I need you to be completely honest with me.”

“There are cursed spirits. I’m a jujutsu sorcerer, so is Gojo; it’s our duty to exorcise those spirits and train future sorcerors. I’ve watched people I know die while fighting cursed spirits. I would never want to expose you to that.”

“That’s not a decision for you to make, Kento. I choose what I want to be exposed to. Why didn’t you tell me this from the beginning? It would’ve made everything so much easier if you were honest with me.” Your tone was soft, afraid to be rash with the man who was already at his emotional limit.

“I didn’t know if you would believe me, you might’ve thought I was crazy,” he says with a soft chuckle. For the first time tonight, he looks you in the eye. “To be honest, I was actually afraid of failing to make you happy, Y/N. I’ve never felt this way about anyone else, it’s scary putting so much love and affection onto one person. I’m not sure if I’ll ever be good enough for you.”

“You could ask for money, cars, houses, whatever materialistic things you want and I can give you that. But a happy ending? I’m not even sure what that is, much less how to provide that.” You’re taken aback, never thinking Nanami would be insecure about something like this; hearing all of this only makes you fall more in love with him and happy that he’s willing to be vulnerable with you.

You fail to hold back a light giggle. “You’re overthinking it way too much Kento.” You flash a tiny smile his way. “My happy ending isn’t as complicated as you think it is; all I want is to just have you here by my side. As long as we’re together and happy, I don’t care about anything else.”

There’s that sparkle in your eye that missed so much. He promptly stands up and hugs you as you lie in the bed, careful to not cause any pain. “I’m so sorry, for everything. I’m sorry I wasn’t the man you needed me to be. I’m sorry I said all of those hurtful things. I’m --

“Shhh, it’s okay. I forgive you Kento.” You stroke his head that’s laid on top of your chest. It’s been so long since you’ve felt this warm feeling. Nanami makes you feel things that no one else can. “I’ve missed you so much,” you whisper above his head.

“I missed you too.” He lifts his head and turns to you, cupping your face while admiring your beautiful features. Even though you’ve been through hell, you still look like an angel. He slowly leans in, but before your lips could connect Gojo busts through the door.

“Alright, alright lovebirds. You’ve made up, you’re in love again, we get it. This isn’t the place to be making out ya’ freaks.” The two of you laugh in response to his silly intrusion. Gojo continues his rant about you too, meanwhile, you zone out and think about how much you love the blonde man before you. You gently squeeze Nanami’s hand with the little strength you can muster and mouth the words ‘I love you’. He mouths them back then places a gentle kiss on your cheek when Gojo wasn’t looking.

The darkness you felt within you was no longer there, and your shattered heart was born anew, burning bright with your love for Nanami Kento. This surely wouldn’t be the last obstacle in your relationship, but this only proved that the two of you will weather any storm that crosses your path.

#nanami x black!reader #kento nanami #jjk nanami #jjk angst #using Gojo as comic relief >>>#bitch im not crying you are #nanami if you got issues just say that boo #we still love you tho <3 #my first miniseries is complete!!!#expect smut after this lol

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momolady · 4 years ago

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Cross Stitch: Part One

Warning: this is a horror story, will feature some unsettling elements. Main character is also pregnant. So go forth with caution. This trilogy is probably my favorite piece I have written this year. I know most of ya’ll don’t read me for my horror stories, and that’s fine. This trilogy just means so much to me and what I did creatively. I hope whoever does read this has fun and enjoys it too. Thank you all so much.

Trauma can cause many changes to a person, most of them can be explained by psychology, and possibly healed with therapy. But after my father passed away, the change that occurred inside me wasn’t one that could be explained. It wasn’t something anyone took seriously, so I learned to ignore it and locked it away.

I didn’t fully understand this until I met my husband. He was performing a study and needed people who had suffered some sort of trauma in their lives, whether due to accident, crisis, abuse, or just something that would have caused an individual a lot of suffering. He believed that this agony could open a third eye in people and allow them to better connect with powers relating to the supernatural. I had nothing better to do, so I decided to see what this strange man was talking about.

I was reluctant to admit that I had been plagued by visions. I had been seeing strange things in the corner of my eye, choosing to pretend there was nothing there, when in reality there was always something twitching at the periphery.

My future husband, Dr. Ivan Young, was a man of science as well as a firm believer in the supernatural. He talked about demons, ghosts, past lives, and powers that could allow humans to touch these creatures. He was handsome, charismatic, and excited to begin this study with the few people who showed up.

Through him, I realized that the things twitching at the corner of my eye wanted to be looked at. I could see those who existed elsewhere, who had not yet fully moved on, trapped here between us and the veil.

“Some people can’t see through the veil, but you can,” Ivan whispered to me. “Your eyes have been opened and you truly see the world. You see everything.”

I fell for him so easily that I often chastise myself today. By the time we were married, Ivan had taught me to utilize my sight. I didn’t just see through the veil, I could move through it if I focused hard enough. It was a skill Ivan and I continued to strengthen every day. Or we did, until we discovered I was pregnant. Ivan decided it would be best to rest, to study, and to let the veil remain closed for a while, for the safety of the baby.

We had been working together for a while, combining our skills to help those who had been afflicted by the other side. We had been able to help some rebuild their lives, or simply stop potential threats before they could reach them. But to keep the fetus safe, we decided to stop taking such jobs.

Then one day, I received a letter from a young woman named Marni. She had inherited a rather large estate, one she hadn’t been aware of before. The news was a shock to her, but what she experienced within the walls of the house was much worse. She sent pictures with her letter, as well as the ripped pages of an old diary.

“I read about you some time ago,” she said in her letter. “I never wanted to believe such things. In fact I was taught, if anything, the only ‘souls’ that could haunt a person were the Father, the Son and the Holy Spirit. But this house has something that is not of God trapped inside. I hoped that this place could be used by the church in some way. It’s far beyond my means and would serve better as a home for the needy. But I would sooner burn it than let anyone else inside. I’m afraid that by even opening the doors, I have unleashed something into the world.

“I have done my research on the place and while the house has remained abandoned for some years, it has become a place for the local college students to gather. Apparently, some have gone missing during nights here. They dare each other to enter for fun, but I doubt there is anything fun here. I do not believe that anything I have come across is the work of students either. I have witnessed strange things many times and nothing about them speaks of childish antics.

“Something else I discovered is that the previous owner of the house, Erique Atherton, was known as something of a ladies man. While married, he carried on countless affairs and this used to cause bitter fights between him and his wife. I know what you’re thinking and while I do not believe martial tiffs are the cause of the wickedness in this house, I do think it is connected. Mr. Atherton’s wife, Ethelinda, was a well-loved and highly-sought seamstress. They said her dresses could assure marriage for any girl who wore them. But I found news articles detailing some of Ethelinda’s less-than-favorable reviews. Sometimes, when she and Erique were in the middle of a fight, she would forcibly push pins and scissors into the women she made dresses for. She was taken to court over the matter, but Erique’s influence got her off. There are no reports of anything else, until Ethelinda reported Erique missing.

“I am trying to include as much information as I possibly can. It may seem superficial to some, but I am trusting my gut and God. I knew God had sent that article about you to me, so I trust God has guided us together for a reason.

“I trust you will not laugh at me, but I wish to laugh at myself. I told you before, I never believed in things like this, but even this place could make the staunchest critic realize there are powers beyond the holy and the mortal. Mrs. Young, I have heard and seen things. There is something gnawing at the back of my neck, and its breath upon flesh as I write this to you. I beg you and your husband to help me. I do not know what to do, where to turn, or what to believe. I have been praying, but for the first time in my life, I fear that my prayers will not reach God and that is the most frightening thing of all.

“Yours in Christ, Sister Marni Abernathy”

I touch the back of my neck, knowing all too well the feeling she just described. Teeth and breath at the nape of my neck is something I deal with even now.

Ivan steps into my office and I quickly move my hand away from my neck. “Amy, what's the matter?”

I shuffle the pages before me, spreading out the photographs so Ivan can see. “I was looking at this letter. This poor girl needs help.”

Ivan glances over the photographs. “Then refer her to the Stevens. We’re not working right now.” He picks up a photograph, eyeing it closely.

“I don’t want to send her to the Stevens.” I am uncertain of their abilities, as well as annoyed by them and their claims. “They’re hacks, Ivan.”

“And I don’t want you getting hurt.” Ivan looks back at the photograph. “What did this woman say?”

“She’s a nun, so she was very hesitant to even ask.” I smooth my fingertips over the pages of the diary. “She says she’s seen things in this house and she doesn’t know what to call them, but she’s seen the worst she could possibly imagine.”

He’s still focused on the picture. “Then why doesn’t she just sell the house and let someone else deal with it?”

I roll my eyes at him. “Did you not hear me, dearest? I said she’s a nun. She doesn’t want this evil getting into the world. She feels it’s her duty now to guard the door.” I flick the picture in his hand. “You see it too, don’t you?”

“There’s a man… no, a creature behind that clock.” He sets the photo down with a grimace. “We’re not going. I know you have a fondness for the church, but just because some poor little nun asked you for help, that doesn’t mean it’s your duty.”

“Ivan,” I scold.

“Don’t ‘Ivan’ me. We agreed it was best for you to rest your abilities while you were pregnant. We don’t know what would happen to the baby.” He tries to give me those sweet puppy dog eyes.

“Don’t look at me like that.” I stand up from the desk. “I think we should go and at least look at this place. If we refer her to the Stevens, we could be sending them to the slaughter.”

“If they’re hacks, they should be safe then.” Ivan gives me a kiss. “If anything, they can be canaries in the coal mine.”

“Don’t you think that’s a bit cruel, Ivan? They’re our friends.”

Ivan smirks at me. “Do you call all your friends hacks?”

We ended up giving the job to the Stevens and we believed that to be the end of it. I tried to forget the letter, but I kept it, and often returned to it. About a week later, we receive a phone call that chills me to the bone.

Linda Stevens had been found unconscious behind the house with her fingers stitched together and her hair chopped off in chunks. A search of the house was initiated and Hank Stevens was declared missing. Linda was unresponsive for the first few days after she was found. Then she started talking, but she had no idea who she was or what happened to her husband in that house. She had a strong reaction to scissors, though. Any time she glanced at a pair, it sent her into a panic attack that made her violent.

Immediately, Ivan feels responsible. He takes money from our savings to pay for Linda to go to an assisted-living home. After that, he sits alone with the photos and torn pages of the diary until one day he comes out of the office with a grave look on his face.

“You should stay here, but I’m going to that house.”

I shake my head. “I’m not staying here. I’m going with you. You’re useless without me.” I take his hand and kiss his palm. “It will be alright. We know what we’re doing.”

He touches my face, then places his hand around my belly. “What if you end up like Linda or vanish like Hank?”

“I won’t.”

He leans in close to whisper to me. “What if I do?”

“I won’t let it happen.”

His hand slides around to cup the back of my neck. “What if he finds you?”

“He’s gone,” I say assuredly. “He’s long gone.”

Ivan and I pack our bags and leave. The town the house belongs to is small, looking almost abandoned. The sight of old homes and a modern shopping center is quite strange. Most of the houses have been turned into fraternity and sorority houses for the nearby college, so we see lots of young people wandering around the streets.

The old house is down a dirt road on a steep hill. The road we drive descends through trees that turn to hedges that turn to brambles, and then to concertina wire. The place is surrounded by barbed wire and warning signs. As we pull up to the house, I see a young woman praying in front. She rises from the dusty stoop as our car approaches.

I get out of the car and look up at the old Victorian manor. Moss and vines have overtaken the brick, but the windows remain untouched, looking almost as new as they day they were installed. There is a weight on my chest as I look at this place, heavy and growing in pressure. The air around the house appears dark, even though it’s nearly noon and the sun is unclouded in the sky.

“I can’t believe you came,” the nun whispers in disbelief. She seems to almost smile, but quickly covers it. “After what happened to your friends, I was certain I would never see anyone here again.” Marni isn’t as young as I had first assumed, but she is very beautiful. She’s wearing modest clothes, but on her frame even they look fashionable. Her dark green eyes, strawberry-blond hair, delicate freckles and button nose give her an eternally youthful appearance.

“We owe it to Linda and Hank to see this through,” I reply. “Or at least bear witness to what is happening here.” There is a flutter at the back of my neck, but I excuse it as a breeze.

Marni looks to my husband, who is staring intently at the house. “I found more pages.” She takes her bible and pulls out more torn pages of the diary. “I’m starting to believe it belonged to the lady of the house. I know what I mentioned in the letter, but I’m starting to believe there was more to Mr. and Mrs. Atherton than that.”

The pages I was given before were written by someone timid and afraid that their diary would be found, they seemed hesitant to open themselves up entirely. The words were sparse, written with a skilled hand and big letters. These new pages, though, are nearly black with cramped writing. Ivan and I both look over them as Marni keeps her hands clasped together.

Mrs. Atherton describes a difficult pregnancy, as well as the sudden pregnancy of her maid Mary Alice, who she says is unmarried. She goes into detail about her husband’s neglect of her while pampering Mary Alice. She falters between joy about prospective motherhood and anger directed at her husband.

“Classic case of philandering husband and maid,” Ivan murmurs.

As I look at the pages, I can almost feel a calm from the woman who wrote them. I don’t sense rage or sorrow on the pages, but a calculated cool in them. “I wouldn’t say it’s so simple, Ivan.” I glance up at him and shake my head. “I think there is more at play here than an unfaithful husband.”

Marni’s expression goes from a grimace to surprise. “How can you tell, Mrs. Young? Is it because of your… powers?”

“I wouldn’t call them powers,” I chuckle. “I just feel things and sometimes I can see them. It’s only a matter of opening your eyes a bit more. I’m sure you can understand that - you must have a deeper knowledge of God than most.”

Marni’s smile seems forced. “I suppose I can understand that. Ever since I vowed to never go back into that house I stay out here, praying.”

“All day?” Ivan asks.

“To keep people away from this place. And hopefully, too keep things inside.” She motions back up the hill. “I’m sure you saw this place is filled with young people attending the college. I was not aware when I reached out to you, but apparently, it’s a custom to come down here, get drunk, and stay in the house as long as possible.”

Ivan arches a brow. “You never noticed anything that would allude to that? No beer cans? No scattered cigarette butts?”

“No, sir.” She shakes her head. “I half expected it when I first came to see this place. But the house looked like it hadn’t been touched in decades. As I mentioned in the letter, I was told there had been some accidents on the property because of the partying.”

Ivan and I share a look. He adjusts his glasses and nods, agreeing with me without saying a word. “Has anyone who has come here gone missing, besides Hank Stevens?” I ask Marni.

Marni furrows her brow. “Yes,” she answers with a stiff nod. “But I was told it was something that shouldn’t be blamed on a house.”

Ivan starts walking, studying the foundation of the house and inspecting the stairs. “So how did you come to inherit this place? You never knew your family owned it?”

“I never knew my family at all, Mr. Young.” Marni watches him, seeming almost upset that he’s touching the building. “I was left with the Sisters of Mount Sinai and they raised me. I never knew I had anything to my name until...” Her voice fades as she looks back at the house.

“Could it have been an accident?” I ask.

Marni shakes her head regretfully. “I thought so, too. But when the lawyer was telling me of my inheritance, he also gave me a document signed by the mother superior who took me in when I was abandoned. It detailed the date, time, and even the weather during my arrival at the Sisters’. It had my name, specified how I should be educated, and even stated how much money the mother superior was given. I...” She shakes her head again and clasps her hands over her chest. “I thought that was the shock of my life.”

Ivan stands at the foot of the stairs. “What happened to you inside?”

“Fingers,” she whispers.

A chill rushes down my spine. I remember the state that Linda Stevens was found in with her fingers sewn together. “Fingers?”

“It felt like the house grabbed me and pulled me inside.” Marni looks at the door. “I brushed it off. We’ve all been told ghost stories about haunted houses. Of course, I thought this old place was spooky.” She sighs heavily, pressing her lips into a firm line. “I tried ignoring it. I prayed. I invited God in.” She looks to the doors and her eyes widen. “And as much as this terrifies me, God never came.”

Ivan hisses through his teeth. “That’s haunting.”

Marni clasps her hands together. “I don’t know what to do. My church doesn’t believe me, they think I’m making up stories. But this is not what I was taught to believe.”

“Maybe we should go inside, and see what we’re dealing with.” Ivan holds his hand out to me. “Watch your step, love.”

I take his hand, but as soon as I mount the steps, it feels like someone pulls my hair. I turn around to see only Marni standing at the foot of the stairs. “Will you be accompanying us?” I ask her.

“Never again,” she whispers to me. “I am sorry. I cannot go with you this time, Mrs. Young.”

I keep a firm hold of Ivan’s hand, stepping onto the porch and coming to the door. We both take a deep breath and his thumb rubs the center of my palm. Ivan’s reflection in the glass looks to me. “Are you sure about this, Amy?”

“As long as we stick together, we can’t be separated inside.” I squeeze his hand extra-tight. “Agree with me.”

Ivan nods. “I agree with you.” He opens the door, and we step into the silent house.

I hold my breath as the weight upon me becomes undeniable. I draw closer to Ivan, straining to hold his hand tightly enough. Ivan’s head turns slowly, looking around the foyer as if expecting something to jump from around a corner. “Well,” Ivan breathes, “do you notice anything?”

I look up along the crown moulding and the ceiling. I see jagged lines cut through the plaster. I follow them, thinking they’re cracks, until I see something hanging from the corner. I stare at it, trying to figure out what it could possibly be, before it suddenly falls. Sharp points spin and stab into the floorboards before us.

Ivan pushes me behind him and we stare at the pair of scissors buried in the floor. Ivan’s eyes dart around again and he slowly lets me step closer. I approach the scissors, kneeling in front of them. There’s blood on the handle, dried and rusted onto the blades.

I look back at Ivan, who nods unsteadily. I touch the handle, gently placing my fingertips on the black surface. My eyelids flutter and my throat grows tight. I gasp and pant as my shoulders begin to rock. My chest heaves, pushing forward as my neck cranes back.

There’s a man standing over a woman on the floor. Her screams grow weaker as the puddle of blood under her widens. A baby cries and screams as the man slowly lifts it up and scissors drop to the floor. “Are you happy now?” The man is sobbing.

I scream from my gut, coughing and wheezing as Ivan pulls my hand away from the scissors. He looks at me, terrified and in disbelief. I gaze back into his eyes and clear my throat. I catch my breath and rise on shaky knees.

“I’ve never seen you react so strongly,” Ivan whispers. He holds me while I get used to my legs again. “I thought you were becoming possessed.”

I feel fingers stroking the back of my neck, but I ignore them. “I think something wanted too, but it was...” I squint my eyes tight and rub the bridge of my nose. “Give me a moment. I’ll tell you what I saw.”

“Let’s go back outside.”

I hear the baby crying again, somewhere inside the house. I look back over my shoulder. Standing in the dark hallway, I see a man dressed all in black with his mouth sewn shut. He raises a hand from the shadows.

“Amy,” Ivan urges. “Amy!”

I barely hear him. The man in the hall has stolen my attention. His fingers are broken and twisted, wrapped around the handles of a pair of scissors. He raises the blades to his sewn lips as if to tell me to be silent. His other hand slips from the shadows, stretching out on an arm that seems too long. The scissors squeak and clack as he opens and closes them.

I cry out, feeling a horrible sharp pain in my belly. Ivan hurries me outside, picking me up and carrying me down the stairs. He runs me to the car, getting me inside as Marni chases after us.

“What happened?” Marni cries. “What’s wrong? Please! You have to help me, don’t go just yet!”

“I’m afraid we can’t stay here,” Ivan says. “We can’t help you.”

Marni looks as though she’s about to wail in anguish. “You can’t leave me! You have to stay! I need you! Please!”

I struggle against Ivan, trying to push him away as he straps me into the car. “Let me go, Ivan!”

“Don’t ‘Ivan’ me!”

I force myself out of the car. “We’re not leaving!”

He stares at me in disbelief. “What are you saying?”

I turn and look back up at the house.

“Amy!” Ivan yells at me.

When I was young, I used to hear babies crying as I tried to sleep. I thought it was a nightmare, because I was the only child in the house. My father used to lock my bedroom door at night, but one night he forgot. I heard a baby crying, so I got out of bed to find it. The cry I heard in that house reminds me of that night.

“I can’t leave just yet,” I whisper desperately to Ivan. “There’s something...” I lick my lips and catch my breath. “There is someone in there who needs me.”

“Someone?” Ivan balks.

“Someone,” I reply, rubbing the back of my neck.

Ivan takes my hand, moving it away. “I don’t think this is someone you can save, Amy. We need to go home. This place is too much for us now.”

“Did you hear it?” I ask.

Ivan remains quiet.

I grab him and shake him. “Did you hear it?”

Ivan averts his gaze. “You heard it.” I release him. “You heard the baby crying.”

Marni cups her hand over her mouth. “A baby? In such a place?”

“We need to go, Amy,” Ivan quietly commands. “I’m not risking you or our baby.”

I shake my head. “I can’t leave, I told you. I know this is risky, but deep inside me, I know this is where I need to be. Something in there is begging for my help. Maybe it’s Hank! Maybe it’s just...” I throw my arms out. “I can’t explain it, all I can say is that I know. But I need you to believe me.”

Ivan’s brow pinches and he looks to the house. Placing his hands on my shoulders, he squeezes me tightly and kisses me. “I do. That’s why I’m so hesitant.”

I look over to Marni, who has her hands clasped in prayer. I extend my hand out to her. “Will you please pray with us before we start planning what to do?”

“Are you sure?” She shakes her head. “Yes, of course. How silly of me.”

She approaches cautiously, taking my hand, then Ivan’s hand. She bows her head as she begins to pray. I look into Ivan’s eyes. I know he’s uncertain and I am too, but this house needs to be cleared. The veil is open inside, and any who step through those doors have passed between and could become trapped forever.

#horror story #ghost story #scary story #ghost #horror #my writing #momolady monsters

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buckyownsmylife · 4 years ago

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Holy Ground - Final Chapter

The one where Andy seems to have lost everything, but he’s not ready to give up.

A terrible car accident ruins Andy Barber’s idea of a perfect life. But if the love’s still there, why wouldn’t he retrace the steps that led him to his happy ending? After all, the best love stories were made to be written more than just once.

for general warnings and author’s notes, please go to the fic’s masterlist.

A/N: This is it, everyone. Thanks for sticking out and reading this very angsty whirlwhind of a fic, I hope it was worth it.

Andy’s P.O.V.

“Hi, someone called me and said I had to get to the hospital. Did something happen? Is my wife okay?” The woman behind the counter smiled patiently at me, but it was a trained smile. I didn’t have the time or the patience for that.

“Calm down, sir. Tell me your wife’s name and then I can direct you to the doctor or her room.” The scene reminded me too much of my first arrival, the one where I was certain I would be told I’d lost everything. It was impossible to stop the anxiety from rising, and I could feel it, climbing my throat and threatening to suffocate me, as I spilled my last name to her.

I tried not to lose it as she checked a few documents with all the calm in this world, like nothing of importance was happening, like my heart wasn’t beating out of control. After what felt like too long, she finally addressed me again.

“There’s no indication of Mrs. Barber’s doctor asking for you… And the nurse who’s taking care of her is on her day off.” I blinked a few times, trying to process her words and failing.

“What does that mean?” I hated the way she looked at me, with pity and understanding. I was tired of being seen like that, a broken man with a broken wife amidst the shattered pieces of what used to be my life.

“It means your wife isn’t going through any serious risk. I’ll try to get in touch with Nurse Jane and see what that call was about. In the meantime, would you like to see Mrs. Barber?” That was a difficult question. Of course I did want to see her, that wasn’t the hard part about it. The problem was… should I?

She never tried to reach out ever since I drove her back to this hospital that morning, almost a week ago. I managed to get some answers about how she was thanks to said Nurse Jane and her doctor, but I didn’t try to talk to her ever since.

I didn’t know what to say. I knew what I wanted to say, of course. The entire truth. I wanted to teach her about the beautiful love story she’d starred by my side, but most of all, I wanted her to believe in me.

And I didn’t think that was possible with the way things were left between us.

I’d barely slept ever since that morning. The good thing about giving her some distance was that I was able to spend some time with our son, something I’d failed to do ever since his birth.

It wasn’t his fault, but he was born from the same accident that almost took his mother’s life. I couldn’t look at him and not think of her. I couldn’t look at him and not remember how wrong everything was, and how much worse it could have been.

But now he was all I had. And I feared this was what my life would be like, if Y/N never decided to give me another chance. So I decided to face my own trauma instead of running from it.

Today was the first time since Y/N left that I had to call the nanny to take care of him again. I spent the last five days with him at all times, trying to learn how to be a parent, trying to feel close to someone I’d decided to shut off before even giving a chance.

He didn’t deserve this father who wasn’t there. That wasn’t the father I wanted to be, anyway. And so I focused on giving him all I had - all of my attention, all of my care, all of my love. I had nothing but time, and I had a lot of it to compensate for.

To be honest, the part of me that still believed Y/N would recover her memory kept reminding me that she would never forgive me for those months of parental bonding I missed. But it wasn’t my fault either.

It didn’t feel right to cherish our son when she wasn’t able to do the same.

“Mr. Barber?” The voice of the nurse from before broke me out of my thoughts, and I blinked a few times in an effort to fully concentrate in the present again. “Would you like to see her?”

Despite everything, I knew the answer I would give.

“Yes.” Of course. “Yes, I want to see her.”

I followed the dutiful nurse down the path I knew all too well, not having it in me to explain to her how her guidance wasn’t necessary. I roamed these halls every night in my sleep and every morning until she left my house. I feared their white apathy would be ingrained in my brain cells for the rest of my life.

“There you go. I’ll leave you two alone.” It was silent when I joined her in the room she’d been living in ever since she got out of the coma. And still, she didn’t seem to hear my arrival - not the door opening and closing behind her, not the sound of my steps resonating through the almost empty room. She looked hypnotized by nothing at all, hand absentmindedly playing with her necklace as she stared at the wall.

“Hey.” The word startled her, and her head whipped around to look at me, her eyes wide, but with no trace of anger.

“Andy?” I couldn’t figure out why, but the way she said my name sent shivers down my spine. She’d said it before, ever since she woke up - countless times. She said it in bed that night, and it still didn’t seem this sweet.

Perhaps the absence had made me more appreciative of it.

“Yeah.” I was scared of moving any closer to her, or saying anything that might provoke her anger. I knew she had the time to think about what had happened, but I had no idea how she felt about it all now.

“I don’t mean to impose, I just… Someone from the hospital called me, I thought maybe something had happened to you. I’m glad you’re alright.” She nodded, a small smile on her face as silence fell between us again.

I’d grown to loathe the absence of sound in the time after the accident. At first, it was from the need to hear the beeps that reminded me she was alive. Then it was for its power to feed into my deepest fears and anxieties, my desperate concern of possibly losing her. And now, it was from the expectation that suspicion had become reality - she really didn’t want anything to do with me anymore.

“I can leave, if you want,” I offered, silently praying she wouldn’t take me up on it even as I waved towards the door. Much to my delight and surprise, her eyes widened and she reached out for my hand, as if stopping me from moving.

“No! No, don’t go.” And so we stood there, staring at each other, not knowing what to do until she asked, “Would you like to sit?”

I followed her to the small sofa in the room, still confused about what was happening. Each second that went by highlighted the differences in our situation, but I still couldn’t see it clearly.

Just what was going on here?

She still held my hand as we sat next to each other, absentmindedly stroking it, her gaze on our laps. It felt just familiar enough to have hope rekindling inside my heart, burning bright inside of it to illuminate my entire being.

“Y/N…” I started, and when her eyes met mine, I unconsciously licked my lips in an effort to keep talking. “Were you the one who called for me?” In the time that she took to answer, the truth was already there, staring back at me. Her hands played with the necklace and when a smile began to form, I threw my arms around her, pulling her to my lap.

“Oh my God.” She giggled against the crook of my neck, and it was like my heart stopped and I started living again, somehow. “It’s you,” I commented, cradling her face so I could look her in the eye. “It’s really you.”

My voice was so thick with emotion I could barely recognize it, but it didn’t take long until words were replaced by the language of desperate kisses, her hands fisting my shirt as I buried my fingers on her locks.

“What… How much do you remember?” I had to ask when I finally accepted that I needed to let us breathe, leaving her lips to rub our noses together delicately, our foreheadheads glued as I struggled not to lose control.

“There are still gaps,” she confessed, seemingly as unwilling to part from me as I was. “But I remember enough. I know you’re my husband and I know that was our son, and I want to go home, Andy. Please, take me home.”

And there it was, the feeling of wholeness, the lack of craving I never thought I’d have again. It was impossible to keep myself from crying then, but as my shirt became soaked, I knew I wasn’t the only one battling with emotions and dealing with them in the form of tears.

“Of course, darling. Let’s go home.” And running my hand over her cheek, brushing her tears away, I invited, “Let’s go meet our son.”

#my series #andy barber fanfiction #andy barber x reader #andy barber reader #andy barber reader insert #andy barber reader inserts #andy barber request #andy barber requests #andy barber fan fiction #andy barber writing #andy barber writings

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zevlors-tail · 4 years ago

Text

Good Enough (Villain Deku)

A/N: This was meant to go with this scenario as an extra add on, but I wasn’t able to finish it in time and so here it is by itself! This was extremely personal and self indulgent, so apologies if it’s not really relatable. I pulled straight from personal experience for this one. I really just wanted to vent have something I could come back to for myself, but maybe this will also help others. I’m still trying to get the hang of the comfort part of comfort fics.

Also, I’ll be posting some original content soon and normal requests as well. I do really like writing emergency requests, but they also take a lot out of me.

TW: Self harm, mentions of a lighter, burns/burn wounds, treating burn wounds, negative thoughts. PLEASE MIND WARNINGS!

Villain!Deku

In this au, Vil!Deku and the reader are part of the LOV.

Never enough.

Nothing you ever did was good enough. No matter what you did, said, or how you acted, you could always do better. Your family had instilled that thought into you, and your teachers and peers had only continued to nurture it until a small sprout became a blossom, that blossom eventually blooming and taking root in your mind. No matter the grades you brought home, you could have- no, should have -done better. No matter what you said, there was always something wrong with the tone in which you said it. Don’t talk back to me, you were told. Watch your tone! If you passed your test with anything less than a B? You’re smarter than that, you just need to apply yourself better. Are you paying attention in class? There always had to be something, always had to be an if, and, or but at the end of every backhanded compliment you got- if you even received any. More, they demanded. You need to work harder. You could have done better. It’s your fault that things happened this way, why are you like this!?

Why were you like this? You didn’t know. All you knew was that everything you touched seemed to crumble right in front of you. You never failed to ruin things, to hinder someone in the process of trying to enjoy your existence. Maybe you just weren’t cut out to feel and have good things. Maybe you didn’t deserve them. After all, where were all your “friends” and family now? The only ones left who tolerated your existence at this point were the villains you chose to align yourself with instead. And even then you were an outcast amongst outcasts, the weakest link between them all. The notion that you would never be good enough had been drilled into your brain so many times that you believed it now. Truly, really, wholly believed it with every fiber of your being. And so, when you’d fucked up during this morning’s mission, it came as no surprise to you.

It was supposed to be a small meeting between allies to exchange goods. You knew beforehand that the other group planned to start a scuffle, and so all three of you- you, Deku, and Dabi -had come prepared for that. But hidden weapons and strategies aside, you still managed to get yourself injured in the process. That wouldn’t have been so awful had it not caused any other problems, but of course that wasn’t the case- whenever you were involved, something always seemed to go wrong. In this instance, it just so happened that Dabi had to step in to cover for you during the fight while Deku helped you get away, and consequently you’d barely had time to grab any of the supplies you were after.

Shigaraki was less than happy about the outcome. He didn’t tear into you, but you got a good scolding while getting patched up, and it hit you hard. You should have been used to it. You’d been told for so long that things were always your fault for not doing enough, so why weren’t you immune to the terrible feelings that came along with that fact? The words stung like salt in an open wound every time you heard them; they never failed to make you hate yourself. And of course since you were injured, you were put on bed rest for a while which only served to make matters worse for you. Why should you get to rest when Deku and Dabi did all the work for you and had to continue with their normal tasks? You were the one who fucked up- you deserved punishment, not a reward.

And so...here you were.

You lied awake in bed, your head tilted back on the pillow while you stared at the ceiling fan spinning idly above you. It had to be some time past one in the morning, the normal sounds of daytime long gone and a tiny sliver of the moon visible through the window to your right. On the nightstand to your left, a little rectangular black object taunted you. The damage had already been done, punishment dealt by your own hand and yet- it wasn’t enough. Was it ever, really?

The sound of knuckles rapping against your door frame interrupted your train of thought, a familiar messy mop of green hair coming into focus as you stared at the person in the entryway to your room.

“Deku...?”

Deku entered and shut the door behind him with a soft click before making his way over to you and taking a seat on the edge of your bed. He took a quick look around your room for a second before turning his gaze on you, and you propped yourself up to get a better look at him while he spoke.

“How’s your leg?”

“Still broken,” you teased with a halfhearted smirk. But it fell soon after, the reminder of what happened earlier in the day bringing back bitter feelings and memories. Deku scrutinized your face, eyes seemingly searching for something, though you couldn’t tell what.

“And how are you holding up after what Shigaraki said to you this morning?” His words were careful, voice calm as he asked. You took a long pause before answering.

“Nothing I do is ever good enough, is it?” A heavy feeling settled in your chest, your voice cracking in frustration as you reached up to angrily run a hand over your face. “I’m always causing problems for others and fucking everything up. There must be something wrong with me.”

All that self hate inside of you burned, doubts and insecurities stoking the raging fire within. For so long you kept in everything you were feeling, and now it was all spilling over in front of the one person you were supposed to keep it together for. Why couldn’t you just do something good for once? Why did you always have to taint everything? You didn’t want Deku to see you cry. You didn’t want him to feel any pity. You were supposed to be strong, and brave, and everything you knew at the back of your mind you weren’t.

“I disagree. You’re being much too hard on yourself, doll.” Deku scooted back some and climbed his way up the bed to you, his back coming to rest against the headboard while you moved over to give him some more room. He gently patted his lap, and you leaned over to rest your head in it.

“But I’m not. I don’t deserve this; I don’t deserve to lay here and rest while the two of you have to pick up all of my slack because of something that was my fault. I’m such a fuck up.”

Deku let you ramble on while his hand rested lightly on your neck, his thumb rubbing slow circles against your skin. When you were finished, he gave you a hum of acknowledgement and nodded a few times, his legs shifting a bit under you as he sat up straighter.

“Now, doll, that’s simply just not true. All of those things you said were lies.”

“But they’re not-” you started, frustration evident in your voice.

Deku didn’t give you a chance to finish. “Yes, they are,” he said firmly, leaving no room for you to argue. “Are you really insisting that you’re supposed to be up and doing work on a broken leg? It seems I wasn’t clear enough the first time, so let me remind you again. You’re being much too hard on yourself. What happened this morning was purely chance. Sure, we had the upper hand, but that doesn’t always mean we’ll come out on top, and it wasn’t your fault things turned out the way they did. I was supposed to be in charge of strategies, are you saying I should have strategized better to avoid the outcome? Or that Dabi’s flames should have burned hotter so they could do more damage?”

“No,” you answered right away. You didn’t need to think twice about it; it wasn’t their fault, it was yours. “Those are things you can’t control. You only had so much information to work with and Dabi can’t change the temperature of his flames that much, at least that I know of.”

“So then why on earth would you ever think the same about yourself? The same principle applies to you as it does to us.”

You didn’t miss a beat as you replied, “Because I could do better. I need to do better. I need to be better. But I feel like there’s something missing... Maybe if I had all the missing pieces then I wouldn’t screw everything up! But I don’t, and I just keep ruining things!”

You curled in on yourself, your hands moving around animatedly as you spoke. For a moment, you forgot there was a reason you’d kept your wrists turned in for the majority of this conversation, and as your sleeve slipped down a little when you raised your arm, your self inflicted burns were momentarily exposed. Your heart stopped as Deku’s hand shot out to catch your wrist, and before you could pull away, he was inspecting the burn marks carefully.

“Did you get burnt in the fight as well? I thought Dabi was the only one there with a fire-related quirk...” You were in too much of a panic to answer him, but it turned out you didn’t need to; he seemed to be talking to himself. “No, these are much too new to have happened in the morning. This is recent, maybe an hour ago... How did this happen, doll?”

“Cooking accident,” you mumbled under your breath.

“Really?” He sounded skeptical of your excuse, and for a good reason; there was no way you’d been up today to cook anything for yourself with your broken leg. He stopped to think for a moment before his eyes darted to your nightstand, your lighter still laying on top of the hard surface. You watched as the gears turned in his mind, and you knew the moment everything clicked- he made a quiet noise of understanding, and a sigh followed shortly after. “This isn’t just about the mission and what Shigaraki said, is it?” He let go of your wrist, and you turned to bury your face in his lap.

“I don’t deserve to be on bed rest right now. I deserve to be punished.”

A moment of silence passed between you while he waited to make sure you were done before he responded.

“That’s not true,” he warned.

“It is! I fucked up!” You had never sounded so desperate in your entire life. You were convinced that you had done something wrong, and your voice reflected that fact. Why couldn’t he see it too?

Deku tried to argue with you, his patience thinning with every cruel word that fell from your mouth. You could hear it in the way he spoke. “You did your best, love. That’s all that matters.”

“But it doesn’t matter; it wasn’t good enough! I’m not good enough!”

You sobbed into his lap, the crushing weight in your chest getting the better of you as you let go and broke in front of him. You were embarrassed, ashamed, and angry with yourself for experiencing something so raw in front of him, but there wasn’t anything you could do to stop it at this point either. Above you, Deku shifted slightly to get more comfortable before pulling you up into his chest and gently cradling you in his arms while you cried.

“Y/N, doll... You’re perfect to me; I love every single thing about you. You are enough- just existing is enough. And you deserve to exist and feel okay without having to punish yourself for it. You can have good things and you don’t need to suffer for them. You’ve always been enough, and you always will be. But this-” He gently turned your wrist over and lightly traced a finger around the edge of a burn. “This has to stop. It doesn’t do anyone any good, and you’re only destroying yourself little by little. It’s not a healthy coping mechanism.”

“I know,” you agreed quietly. “But I’m not sure I can stop-” It scared you to admit that out loud; saying it turned the thought into something real, something you had to really deal with now that you couldn’t just push the idea to the back of your mind and ignore it.

“We’ll find you an alternative. Everything’s gonna be okay.” You nodded silently while Deku continued to look at the burns. Suddenly he seemed lost in thought, eyes glossing over for half a second before he was moving to get up. “Stay here. I’ll be right back.” Not that you could go anywhere anyway. He gave you a lingering kiss on the top of your head and then disappeared from the room, grabbing the lighter on your nightstand and pocketing it on the way out while leaving the door cracked open. You were confused until he returned with ointment and bandages and a determined look on his face. “Alright,” he started, sitting on the edge of your bed once more, “give me your arms.”

He worked silently at first, his brows furrowed in concentration while his skilled fingers carefully and delicately rubbed ointment into the wounds. It burned and left an unpleasant sensation afterwards, but it felt like nothing compared to the sting of the wounds themselves and the reasons you’d given them to yourself in the first place. You let him take his precious time, and when he was down to the last couple of spots, you caught his concerned gaze accidentally.

“You have to let me in, Y/N.” He moved on to bandages next and gently wrapped up your wrists, his hands warm against your rapidly cooling skin from the medicine. “This won’t be easy by any means, but if you let me be there for you, I’ll show you every single day that you’re good enough. You’ve been told so many times that you’re not; believe me just this once when I tell you that you are. What happened on that mission was not your fault. There was nothing you could have done that would have made the situation any better. And I’ve worked with you before; I’ve seen what you’re capable of. You’re always giving your best at everything you do, but sometimes doing our best means different things on different days. It’s not possible to be perfect all the time.”

He finished up shortly after that, and you thought long and hard on his words while he boxed the supplies back up and set it off to the side. Maybe he was right. You were tired of feeling like you had to be perfect all of the time, like you had to live up to unrealistic standards. But this had been going on for so long that you weren’t sure what to do anymore or how to fix it.

“I don’t want to feel like this anymore...”

Fresh tears welled up in your eyes as you leaned into Deku. He pulled you into his arms before laying down with you in the bed with your head tucked under his chin.

“You don’t have to, doll. You’re safe here, even from yourself. Everything will be okay. I won’t let you tear yourself apart like this any longer.”

For the first time in a long time, you did feel safe. Maybe Deku was right; you deserved to enjoy life and feel good without consequences. Maybe...you were good enough as is, right here in the arms of someone who loved you for you. And maybe, just maybe...things were going to be okay.

#villain deku x reader #villain!deku x reader #deku x reader #villain deku #villain!deku #tw sh #tw: sh #tw self harm #tw: self harm #bnha x reader #mha x reader #deku

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