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scarsnfevers · 2 years ago

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To the stars — Hyunjin

pairing; hwang hyunjin x female reader, (mentions of other members)

genre; titanic!au, romance, fluff, angst, tragedy

summary; the most famous and youngest violinist of her time and a young artist of the lower class on board of the Ship of Dreams? Pathetic, yes, and yet opposites seem to attract.

warnings; mature content, mature language, cursing, tw!death, drinking alcohol (only a little bit), a little bit of smut, smoking (might add more warnings later)

word count; 3,4k

taglist; @hyunskizz, @daiyoon

authors note; I'm not a fan of tragic endings, so be prepared for a happy ending?

Parts; Teaser | Part 1 | Part 2 | Part 3 | Part 4 soon

!minors do not interact!

"A CONCERT IN NEW YORK?!" It all started with that. I never dreamed of getting this far in my life. I had never been the best student, nor the well-behaved daughter of the house who took private lessons in literature and history seriously. I had always been a little different from the other kids my age that had the same social status as me. And now I was England's most famous violinist.

"I can not believe it!" When the news reached me that I would play at the Metropolitan Opera in New York, it seemed I was at the peak of my career as a violinist. Luck seemed to be on my side.

"And the best thing, my dear, the costs of our trip are fully covered. We don't need to pay a penny." My mother, standing behind me and combing my hair, smiled at me through the mirror. Our trip. The corners of my mouth twitched before I smiled softly. "I can't wait to get on board, mother." Although I would have preferred to travel alone with my friends. "I never imagined such a ship in my wildest dreams. It must be breathtaking." I continued, leaning back in my chair a bit. "That's it dear. And in a few hours, we'll be able to see it by ourselves." My mother put my comb aside and finally asked me, "I hope you've packed everything? Felix and the others will surely be here soon. You should have everything ready by then." I nodded at her question. All I had to do was peel off the robe I was wearing and slip into one of the dresses my mom ordered from a special designer for me for today. And I definitely hated it. I hated everything about that dress because it didn't reflect who I was at all. But what didn't I do to be the good, loving daughter. "Darling?" My mother seemed to sense my absence, even though I knew that she didn't care about me until I finally had success in life. I blinked and looked up at her, "I'll get changed now and take care of the final details. I'll come to the driveway once I'm done." It was exactly the answer my mother wanted to hear. She smiled contentedly, "I'll have your suitcases loaded, then we can leave immediately."

When she finally left my room, I was able to get a moment for myself. I enjoyed the moment just sitting there and letting my gaze wander. I probably wouldn't see these four walls, my home, for a while. Would I miss it? I guess not. It was just a prison for me anyway. My eyes finally settled on today's flyer, which featured a huge cruise ship. Underneath it was written in capital letters:

The ship of dreams - the Titanic sails today!

"The ship of dreams, huh?" My fingertips traced the outline of the image before picking up the flyer. My gaze slid over the contours of the ship. That such a giant could stay afloat at all was almost a miracle. It was not for nothing that the creators of the Titanic boasted that ship was unsinkable. I finally put the flyer back on my desk and made sure to be in the driveway on time. I knew that my mother wasn't a friend of being late.

And yet I was. Exactly two minutes late. I gave my mother an apologetic smile, knowing it wouldn't save me, before glancing at the motorcade pulling up and parked in our driveway. I paused for a moment before two young men got out of the front car. Lee Felix and Han Jisung. My best friends and those who would also join me on my trip to New York.

Not minding etiquette, I rushed down the stairs to greet my friends. "Finally you two are here!" I hugged both of them happily. Felix laughed: "Hey, I can't breathe!" He gasped while Jisung just giggled. Reluctantly I let go of the two. "You can't believe how happy I am that you're here." I explained and lifted visibly my eyebrows, which meant that they should just save me from my mother. Jisung suppressed a smirk while Felix replied, "Don't worry, we'll get your mind off things." A smile tugged at his lips as he looked behind me and greeted my mother as she joined us. "Good morning gentlemen. It's nice that you've finally arrived." I wanted to give my mother a wry look, but that would only mean more trouble. "Mrs. l/n (your last name), we're glad to see you too." Jisung mirrored my mother's smile as he addressed her. She nodded with a friendly expression on her face before continuing, "It's a wonderful day to embark on such a great journey, I hope you're all set." "Of course ma'am." Felix replied with his typical happy smile, which is why I always called him sunshine. I grimaced and jumped into the conversation, "All right, now that everything is settled, let's be on our way as soon as the house servants have loaded the last suitcases." I looked around. Thank god my mother agreed, "I'll go and see if we have everything. Take care of your friends darling, maybe they want some tea?" I wanted to make a face, but I nodded instead. "I'll take care of them, mother." I kept smiling until she was finally out of my hearing range. I sighed loudly and turned back to my friends.

"So?" I asked, looking questioningly at Felix and Jisung. "I heard we make the Titanic unsafe?", "Oh yes!" Ji crossed his arms and grinned. "But first we have to get you out of that horrible dress. That's straight from the last century." He eyed me. "Thank my mother. If I had it my way, I wouldn't wear that either.", "Don't worry, I've got enough fabric in my luggage to design you a new dress in no time." The light that started to pop in Jisung's eyes told me he couldn't wait to get me into one of his self-designed dresses. Because as an up-and-coming fashion designer he was always looking for new ideas and challenges: "It's good that I don't have any knowledge about that." Felix said and leaned against his car, a brand new model that was all the rage in Europe. "But my mother would have preferred that I would marry you." I chuckled and looked at him. Felix cocked his head and spoke amusedly, "That wouldn't work between us anyway Y/n. We're already so palsy-walsy." I giggled at his words, "I guess you're right." Felix and I have known each other since we both could. walk. He came from an even wealthier family than I did, and had always been an excellent student, hardworking and well-behaved. He could have had any girl, but he had never been with anyone. He also got the chance to study engineering in New York. The reason why he accompanied me on my trip. "Nice car you have there." I finally said. Felix raised his eyebrows, "Uh yeah, it just got delivered a few days ago. Drives great." The young man replied, whereupon I said, "Then I have no choice but to go with you. I won't miss an opportunity like that." I smiled crookedly, earning a surprised look from Felix, "Your mother wouldn't like that." No, she absolutely wouldn't, and I didn't care. Without any hesitation, I opened the door of the car and placed myself in, "I consider this as my dowry." I joked looking out at my two friends who were staring at me, "I love when you guys look so stunned." I grinned before adding, "What? Are you jumping in? Otherwise, the ship will leave without us."

___

The music was loud, and the smoke from cigarettes and the smell of beer and whiskey mingled in the pub. It was only 11 o'clock and almost everyone here was already star-struck. "So what else do we have?" Hyunjin leaned a little over to one of his friends who was sitting with him at the round skat table. "Hm, let's see." The young man with light brown hair spoke and rummaged in his pocket. He pulled out a few pennies and a pocket knife. "Shit, guys, that's nothing. Besides, that's the knife of Minho's grandfather." Another young man standing behind them leaned over them. "I know Jeongin." Hyunjin sighed before looking at Minho, who was staring at the pocket knife, lost in thought, "Buddy, you don't have to-", "It's alright." Minho interrupted the young man next to him before placing the knife and the few pennies in the middle of the table, where all the money, some valuables, and three tickets to New York lay. A trip on the dream ship, a trip into a new life. "This time, we'll get everything." Minho smiled confidently. They couldn't lose. Otherwise they would lose everything except what they are wearing. Even if it wasn't much that the three young men owned. Because when you came from the working class, there wasn't anything worth living for. A journey into another, probably better life came as called for. "So," Hyunjin's gaze slid to the men sitting across from him and his friend, "Let's play."

___

"It's unbelievable how jammed everything here is." I spoke and stuck my head out the window as we drove down the harbor. So many cars and people gathered in one place. It was difficult to even find a way through the crowds. "We're probably not the only ones." Jisung spoke ironically. "The Titanic seats about 2,400 people on board. No wonder it's so crowded today." Explained Felix, who was driving the car. It would probably have been quicker to walk. He honked his horn and waved a few people aside. "Wow, that's a lot." I answered before we turned around a corner as a huge ship came into our view. The Titanic. I held my breath and took in the sight. I had never seen such a giant in my life. It was overwhelming. Jisung now lowered the window pane to his side too to get a better view of the ship. "Have you seen anything like this before?" he asked while admiring the massive structure of grandiose engineering. "No" Felix and I replied at the same time, cause we were both completely captivated by this view. If there truly was an unsinkable ship, it could only be the Titanic. Felix's car slowly came to a standstill before he broke away from the sight of the ship and turned to us. "All right, I'm going to sign us in. Stay by the car, okay?" He looked at Jisung and me in the back seat. We nodded almost synchronously.

So Felix left us alone while Jisung and I got out to get a better view of the ship that was right in front of us. "Amazing. Sailing with this to New York will be fantastic." I could barely hide the excitement in my voice. And Jisung sounded pretty excited too. "It truly is the ship of dreams. I can't wait to get on board." I agreed before I heard my mother's voice. I turned around and saw her just getting out of the car that was parked right behind us. She gave me a displeased look but didn't say anything. Surely I'd get a lecture for not riding with her once we got on board. "The servants bring everything into the ship." She explained and looked at me. "We're already signed up, I've taken care of everything, so let's get on board dear." I blinked and looked questioningly at Jisung, who just nodded, "Go ahead, I'll wait here for Felix." he smiled. Although I would have loved to board the Titanic with my friends, I had no choice but to follow my mother. We walked over the bridge that connected the mainland with the ship, where we were greeted warmly by the crew. But I hardly had eyes for that. Instead, my gaze wandered over the pompous interior of the ship, the high walls and the elaborate decorations on the railings and stairs. But a voice snapped me out of my thoughts. "Welcome on board of the Titanic Miss." In front of me stood a young, handsome man with raven-black hair, in a uniform. I wasn't very familiar with the ranks of a ship's crew, but from the looks of the other person in front of me, he seemed important. And I shouldn't be wrong. "I am pleased to welcome you on board. My name is Captain Bang. I will take you safely to New York." His accent immediately told me that he wasn't British, but Australian. Also, his smile was quite contagious.

I blinked and finally replied, "The pleasure is all mine." Does he want to greet all first-class guests in person? It looked like that. I returned the captain's smile before he asked me, "Are you traveling alone miss?" I was taken aback by his question, "No I..." I paused and started to look around. Only now did I realize that I had lost sight of my mother in all the hustle and bustle. I gasped and looked back at my interlocutor, "No, I'm traveling with my mother." I explained to him, whereupon the captain looked around, "It's easy to lose each other in crowds like this. What's your name, Miss? I can call a retinue for you who's going to get you to your room and let your mother know that you were safely accompanied." He was very accommodating. I nodded in agreement, "That would be wonderful." I replied and gave him my name, whereupon the captain paused and just regarded me for a moment before answering, "Wait here Miss l/n, I'll take care of it." A smile appeared on his lips again before the young man turned on his heel to look for a crew member who would attend to my business. So I lagged behind a bit awkwardly, which is why I turned my attention back to what was happening around me.

Lost in thought, I looked at the many people around me. There were probably many more in the lower classes, but even here, where the rich and beautiful met, it seemed overcrowded to me. Every single one of them could afford the trip without any problems. At that moment, I wondered how those who couldn't fare. "Y/n!" Felix's voice got through to me. I looked over my shoulder before my two friends caught up with me. "Have you finally made it?" A mischievous grin spread across my lips. Felix ran a hand through his hair, a little out of breath "Yes, just about that. The ship will be leaving soon. They are about to load the last wagons." he said. I was about to say something when a young man joined us. He was obviously one of the ship's crew, "Miss l/n?" he looked at me questioningly. I blinked and replied, questioning almost as much as he did, "Yes?" "You want me to show you to your room." he explained to me briefly. I had already forgotten that, "Oh, yes right." I looked back at Felix and Jisung. "Then we'll see each other later, yes?", "Of course Miss L/n." Felix cocked his head teasingly while he wore his bright smile. I playfully rolled my eyes and couldn't help but smile. Finally, I followed the young crew member deeper into the ship. Into a whole new world.

___

Glasses flew around, and the smell of beer spread while Hyunjin and Minho were still sitting at the skat table. Behind them stood Jeongin, who looked worriedly at his friends' cards. Things were looking bad for the three young men. If they were going to win this game, more or less a miracle would have to happen. Minho's right leg bounced nervously up and down as he scowled at his cards. Things weren't looking too good for Hyunjin either. He was missing a certain card to turn the tide. He bit his bottom lip nervously before hearing Minho sigh angrily, "Damn, I'm out." He leaned back and crossed his arms. It was probably Hyunjin's fault now. His eyes swept fleetingly over his opponent. He was tall, handsome and definitely a good skat player.

"So, last round?" he raised his eyebrows. Hyunjin nodded slightly and looked at the deck from which he would draw his next card. Everything would stand or fall at that moment. He dropped the first card to his opponent and then drew one for himself from the deck. Minho cautiously squinted at his buddy while Hyunjin stared at his deck. "So?" his opponent asked, while the rubble of the masses around them almost drowned him out. Jeongin leaned over Hyunjin's shoulder full of tension, who was sitting in his chair as if stuck and had to realize for a moment what had happened right now. Minho frowned and craned his neck to get a better look at the cards as well. But what he saw at that moment made him fall from the clouds, "Damn, shit" he breathed, while Jeongin, almost at the same time, started to cheer, "Holy Mother of God!" Hyunjin blinked and looked at his opponent before a wide grin appeared on his face, "Well, I guess we won!" He revealed his cards. A slippery winning hand. Nobody would come up against that. Their victory was certain. They would go to New York. Defeated, his opponent sat back while the three young men cheered their victory. "Thank you for this extremely entertaining game gentlemen." Jeongin took the valuables and the tickets while Hyunjin and Minho hugged each other with joy. Luck had been on their side for once, but they shouldn't celebrate too soon. "Hey!" The three friends were interrupted in their burst of joy by one of the men who had also been playing for the tickets. "If you still want to go on board, you better hurry. The ship leaves in five minutes." For a moment it seemed like Hyunjin had misheard his words. "What?" Jeongin stared at the man, who replied, "Yes, in five minutes. The Titanic will leave the harbor at twelve." "Fuck." Minho gasped and looked at Hyunjin, who was also looking at his friend, "Go ahead and grab everything you fucking have and get the fuck out of here!" He gasped. Jeongin hurriedly put in his pocket the remaining money on the table and then followed Minho and Hyunjin who had already run ahead. Although the pub was right at the harbor, it was difficult to move through the crowds as quickly as possible. Everyone had come to admire the Titanic, say goodbye to relatives, or go on board themselves. "Where the hell are we going?!" Minho, who was right behind Hyunjin, gasped and tried to keep up with the young man. Hyunjin, meanwhile, made his way through the crowd, trying to get an overview while the crew members already started to catch the bridges, the entrances to the ship. Hyunjin's eyes scanned the area feverishly until he finally spotted a bridge that hadn't been caught yet. "There ahead!" he shouted and was just able to avoid an older man before nearly running him over. They had to reach the bridge at any cost. Hyunjin felt his lungs threatening to collapse, but he couldn't stop now. He couldn't miss this chance.

Not this time.

The three young men rushed onto the bridge and hastily waved to the crew members who were about to pull the bridge in. “HEY!” Hyunjin roared at the top of his lungs to get the men's attention, which worked. Startled, they looked up and waved the three friends over. "You couldn't come any later, huh?" One of the men asked them as Hyunjin showed him the tickets Jeongin had given him. "Sor....ry sir." The young man gasped for air while his counterpart checked the tickets. So the three friends could catch their breath for a moment. Finally, the man in uniform looked up and handed him back the tickets, "Welcome aboard the Titanic gentlemen."

They made it.

Hyunjin took the tickets and boarded with his friends. "Damn, we did it." Said Minho with a big, very happy smile on his face. "We really made it." Hyunjin smirked while Jeongin still couldn't believe it.

Now a new beginning, a start into a new life, was within reach.

"Come on, let's go on deck and watch the ship leaving the harbor." Satisfied, Hyunjin wrapped his arms around his friends.

They would see their home from afar for one last time, before there was no way back.

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thesconesyard · 4 months ago

Text

Where the West Begins

6. Our Gang Means Death

“Well,” said Scotty as he looked around the room he and Leonard were sharing. Leonard looked up and laughed.

“Bored already?” Leonard asked.

“I suppose yes,” Scotty said with a smile. “When was the last time ye came here love?”

McCoy settled back in the chair he was sitting in and looked towards the ceiling in thought.

“Suppose it was when Chris and I came west,” he said finally. “We stayed on here for a bit to see if we liked it.” He paused and dropped his chin to look at Scotty again. “We didn’t.”

Scotty chuckled.

“What about you?” Leonard asked.

“Same. Came through on my way west. Stayed a few months though, but it was just too overwhelming. I wanted to be somewhere wee again.”

“Glad we both made that decision then,” Leonard said with just a hint of coloring tinging his face.

“The saloon next door looked promising,” Scotty said. “What d’ye say?”

Leonard got to his feet. “I say let’s go.”

It was early when Scotty woke the next morning. For a moment he was confused, Leonard’s warmth was not next to him. He opened his eyes and looked around, remembering then their travel and the two small beds in the room. He looked across towards the other bed and smiled at Leonard’s still sleeping form. His love had half his pillow curled under an arm, pulled close to his face. It wasn’t often Scotty woke first and he enjoyed the quiet moment.

Breakfast was had at the hotel and then Captain Pike led the whole crew over to the courthouse. Between Leonard and Keenser, Scotty looked around the room. Every seat was filled and the room was beginning to warm. Quiet chatter died away as a side door opened and a deputy led in Khan. He was followed by Marcus, who had been his second in command, and then other members of the gang.

Scotty took a deep breath before he looked across and met the eyes of the man who had called himself John Harrison. He seemed to be staring right back at Scotty, and a chill went down the Scotsman’s spine. He had lied to them, but Scotty felt the betrayal extra strong. He had thought John Harrison a bright, helpful man who would stay at the ranch and become a good friend. They had worked together and laughed and discussed different ways to make the ranch more efficient.

Then John Harrison stole from them and quietly left. And worse, he had come back with his gang, tried to take the ranch, and had shot Jim.

Scotty took a quick glance at Leonard as Khan’s gaze left him. Leonard was scowling in Khan’s direction. The doctor had never liked Khan from the moment he had set foot on the ranch. Leonard had saved Jim after the gunshot.

The judge came in and silence spread in the room. Lawyers made statements and then Jim was called to the stand. A few faint whispers went through the room and the gallery above. Scotty realized if they were all called up how many times the same story would be told. His and Leonard’s might be the ones to deviate as Khan had caught them and tied them up when he snuck back to the ranch.

He let out a soft sigh, not wanting to have to face the full courtroom but knowing it would help put these dangerous men away. On either side of him he felt soft bumpings from elbows as Leonard and Keenser sent support.

Jim was questioned thoroughly and dismissed.

“Dr. Leonard McCoy please.”

Leonard stood, looked down at Scotty with a reassuring smile and made his way to the stand.

“When did you meet the accused?”

“The morning he walked onto our ranch looking for work,” Leonard began. He continued.

Scotty nervously wondered what Leonard would say when they questioned him about the night of the attempted takeover. What reason would he give for why he and Scotty weren’t at the house with the others? Scotty of course loved the doctor and wouldn’t hesitate to say so, but Leonard was much more private, preferring to be low-key anywhere that wasn’t the ranch.

“I was with Mr. Scott when Khan caught us,” Leonard began. “Khan appeared from the shadows by our cabins and said we were surrounded.”

Ok, Leonard was keeping it casual; Scotty could do the same.

“Why were you at the cabins?” the lawyer representing Khan asked. “We’ve heard that everyone else was at the house.”

Leonard nodded. “Yes, and normally we would be too, but it had been a long day and I preferred to have a drink in private. Mr. Scott appreciates a fine whisky as I do, so I asked him to join me.”

When Leonard was finally dismissed it was Scotty’s turn. Nervously he stood, then found his courage and walked to the stand. He had known the courthouse was full behind them, but to see everyone’s eyes on him… he swallowed hard.

“Mr. Montgomery Scott?”

“Aye sir.”

He felt a piercing gaze on himself and briefly spared a glance at Khan. The man had pretended to be his friend and then betrayed them. Scotty turned away.

Concisely he told his story, only a hint of his rebellious youth coming through as annoyance with the defense lawyer.

Scotty was glad when he finished and held his head high as he returned to his seat, passing by Khan and his cronies.

#Where the West Begins #sequel to When the Cactus Blooms #star trek #montgomery scott #leonard mccoy #scones #definitely a chapter that relates to the previous tale

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killmebutneverinsultme · 2 years ago

Note

If you could give rping advice to an amateur, what would be the most valuable?

// You know, I've seen some fabulous tips and guides rolling around this website and can I blimmin' find any of them I thought I'd reblogged? Can I bugger. Let's see what I can think of off the top of my head!

First things first, your blog: This is the first thing people are going to look at to make a decision if you're suited to them. Doesn't have to be anything fancy. Ensure you have an icon so we don't assume you're a spam bot. Have a bio and/or a rules page so people know what you expect and note if you're 18+/21+ as many adults aren't comfortable role-playing with people under this age for safety reasons. If you're writing a canon character, a bio page can just be a brief summary of who they are and what they're about. If you're writing an OC, a reasonably detailed bio is practically essential. You might know why your muse is awesome, but your prospective partners don't so give everyone the goss on who they are, what makes them interesting, what their backstory is etc.

Next is both the most difficult and probably the next most essential: Have no fear. What I mean by this is not to let insecurity get the best of you. If you love writing, have that be your anchor. Not everyone is going to say yes and that's ok. Not everything works out. Starting out is often the most difficult time because it's easy to feel like no one is interested and that you're doing all the work. I promise you, it will get better if you keep plugging away, but you have to reach out and brave things for a bit. Be kind, be open about what you want, and enjoy every little thing until you get more opportunities.

Good ways of finding partners are to search tags for 'rp masterlists' in fandoms you are interested in e.g. 'marvel rp' or 'potc rp' or even 'open rp'. Scroll down people's blogs and have a look at who else they're playing with, read their rules and pages etc. and see if they have preferences on how to be contacted. Some people will do open starters, some will greet you if you follow them, some accept memes from anyone. If someone mentions you need to be mutuals this means that you have to wait for them to follow you back before they will be open to writing with you. Once they do, check their rules how they like to be contacted. If it's not clear, brave an ask, send a meme, or a private message.

Private messages - best advice for these are not to start off with 'wanna rp?'. I recommend dropping in, saying hi, expressing that you'd be interested in writing and leaving an idea for something you'd be keen on doing should they be interested too. If they're not, thank them and move on. If they are, hooray, make friends and have fun plotting!

An extremely valuable RP tool is the New X-kit and X-kit Rewritten browser extensions. Tumblr is not built to be friendly for role-playing and I couldn't manage without these. Rewritten lets you trim posts so you can get rid of the pesky top post that would otherwise stay when using tumblr's new beta post formats. It helps us keep posts looking neater on our blogs and dashboard, although thankfully tumblr introduced the 'shorten posts' feature to save everyone's eyeballs from super long threads.

General etiquette: Lots of role-players have preferences on how long they prefer replies to be and how often they are active. Trial and error until you find partners that suit you. Ideally check your spelling and grammar if it's not something you're adept at. A big thing not to do is godmodding, which is when you might be tempted to write someone else's character doing something on their behalf. Even if this might mean your post is shorter, do not do this. You must let your partner write all of their own muse's actions. If your muse attempts to do something to their muse, they should be given permission to dictate what happens on their end. It's a give and take relationship to make the best possible fun for both of you.

Other big ones: don't let jealousy get the better of you. There might be duplicates of your muse or you might like someone who gives lots of attention to someone else. It's very easy to get wrapped up in your muses' feelings and get obsessed with gratification. Be gentle with each other, we've all got our own stuff going on, and we all need different things. Be gentle with yourself, too, that's most important!

Hopefully these are some of the basics and are of help! If anyone would like advice on something more specific, please ask, or ask one of these other lovelies for their opinion also.

#rp etiquette #how to rp #Pirate answers anons #Pirate's advice #outofrum

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alsjeblieft-zeg · 2 years ago

Text

219 of 2023

This seems to be TMI again XD

#1 Tell me about the most embarrassing or awkward experience you’ve had around me *even if it’s silly* that you’ve never told me about yet?

I don’t even know you.

#2 If you were to lose your power of speech tonight, what’s the one thing you would want to tell me?

Kiss my fkn ass, not literally.

#3 Which is the first region your eyes would wander to if you were to ever see me naked?

The nearest wall.

#4 What style & color underwear do you currently have on?

Normal one, black.

#5 If I’m feeling horny when you’re around, do you think you’d realize it? And how do you think you’d recognize the signs?

Probably if I’d notice something or feel it. And I would want neither.

#6 If I caught you masturbating in bed, would you blush awkwardly and accept that I caught you, or would you pretend like you were doing something that you obviously weren’t doing?

Oh my God. I don’t even want to think about it. I’d be so embarrassed.

#7 What’s the meanest thing you’ve ever done to someone to get back at them?

Can’t think of anything right now.

#8 When was the first time you had a wet dream?

I don’t know, maybe I was 15.

#9 Have you ever played doctor as a child? With whom did you play and how old were you?

I don’t think so.

#10 What is your wildest sexual secret that you want to indulge in at least once in your lifetime?

Maybe I’m curious about one certain guy, but I don’t think I’d ever act on it.

#11 Have you ever been caught naked by someone?

Thankfully not.

#12 Have you ever found something valuable on the street and kept it for yourself even though you knew you could return it to the owner?

No, nothing really valuable.

#13 What is the most embarrassing moment you’ve experienced in your lifetime?

Getting hard in front of the guy I liked. I still hope he hasn’t noticed.

#14 Can you tell me your funniest childhood memory that you can remember?

Do inside jokes with my friends and sister count? Still, you need to speak Dutch in order to understand them.

#15 What are the things about yourself that you particularly like and what is the one thing you don’t particularly like? *Physical and psychological asset*

I’m not the biggest fan of my body in general. What I like? I’m non-judgemental.

#16 Which is the one word in your vocabulary that you use excessively?

Mo godverdomme toch.

#17 Do you think you could punch someone and knock them off their senses?

Probably, but not with my left hand anymore. µNot gonna try anyway.

#18 If you had to make out with a friend of the same sex to save the world from aliens, whom would you pick?

My husband lol. He’s my best friend and we’re in same sex marriage, so problem solved.

#19 Which sex toys have you experimented with so far, and which ones would you want to stay away from?

I’ve tried one, didn’t really like it, and anything else is not interesting to me.

#20 Strangest place you have had sex or “fooled around’ at:

Does our car count?

#21 Have you ever had a secret crush on any of your teachers or friends, and have they ever got to know about it?

Yes, twice on my friends, I was in relationships with them, and one of them is my husband now.

#22 If we had kids together someday in the future, what features/characteristics from you would you hope they would inherit?

No kids, thanks. Especially not with a stranger.

#23 When was the last time you felt possessive?

Probably never.

#24 Have you ever eavesdropped/or peeked at someone without the noticing?

I’m not interested in private details of people’s lives.

#25 Personally, do you think size matters in reality?

Yea. The smaller, the less painful. For real.

#26 If you had no choice, how many days do you think you could abstain from sex or masturbation at a stretch?

Several months. I’m not a teenager anymore.

#27 What gets you wet faster, phone sex or sexting?

Jesus, no. Such things completely turn me off.

#28 While having sex, would you prefer getting on top or staying down in bed?

Staying down so I can peacefully zone out.

#29 Have you ever stripped for someone?

Nope. nless undressing in front of my husband to take a shower counts.

#30 If you had to explain about the birds and the bees to a child, let me hear how you’d go about explaining it to them?

I wouldn’t. Thankfully we don’t have kids and my husband’s son is almost 17, so I guess he knows this and that.

#31 Who is the biggest jerk/bitch you’ve ever come across in your life and why?

That Romanian dude at our work nobody really likes. Which is weird because we have other Romanian workers here and they’re a bunch of awesome guys.

#32 Have you ever accidentally and yet intentionally kissed someone or tried kissing someone?

No. Someone did that to me, though, and I hated it.

#33 Have you ever had sex in a dressing room?

No, I haven’t.

#34 If the world froze for an afternoon and only you could move and no one could see you or remember what you did, what would you do?

If you expect answers like “jerk off in public”, then I’m gonna disappoint you.

#35 What’s your routine every night just before you go to sleep?

Putting the TV on.

#survey #q&a survey #random survey #tmi survey

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kath-artic · 1 year ago

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moar

since im on the topic i wanna play around in this space a little more

growing up i was a very private person. sure, my best friends knew about problems at home and my struggles with mental health, but i never talked to them about the things i cared about or the people i liked. love was such a valuable thing that to talk about it frivolously seemed sinful and just downright disrespectful to the concept. it had to be protected. this is unfortunately why i stayed in my first relationship for so long. i foolishly thought that i was somehow about infatuation and frivolous love. i thought id know it when i found it and that id never let it go, so i couldnt just admit id made a mistake. regardless, friendships to me were always about being too in the moment to care about anything else. friendship was about silent understanding and play. most of my high school friends were like this. we never talked about our lives outside of school save for one or two times, but we all knew we were all going through something so we'd all keep each other busy all night. we wouldnt leave the school until the janitors kicked us out and then we'd wander the town. every now and then someone would break down and cry and we'd sit there and hold each other, but talking about it hardly seemed necessary at that time. it wasnt until the dam broke for me at the end of my senior year that i started really opening up about stuff. that was my brief Therapy phase. i became obsessed with talking about the trauma id gone through and didnt know how to be someone outside of it for a while, but that was a horrible person to be for me. i feel bad for her and it was important that i was her for a time, but im glad im not anymore. she taught me how to be open, but every time i opened up i exploded and it never felt all that fulfilling. in fact, i found that me "trauma dumping" was just me trying to answer everyones questions before they started prying so theyd think i had nothing to hide. i was afraid of people knowing me at that time. what's more, the concept of meeting new people was exhausting at that time because to know me at that time was to know what id been through and it was hard having to go through it again and again.

leaving fixed me. ive said it before but it remains true. ive realized i love a blank slate and ive realized that knowing me is an innate quality some people do or dont possess in varying degrees. ive realized my story is mine and that i generally like being private because i really only like sharing when i think i'll be understood or when i think it's necessary to expose people to new possibilities. i like knowing lots of people, i like knowing them deeply and intimately, but not necessarily constantly. i dont want people to run dry by dumping all their is to know at my feet at once, which is why i think space is so necessary for me. old friends reaching out is such a joy because theyre a new person at this point! new friends are such a joy because they tend to feel as though theyre old friends! i just like for my circle to be full of as many people who are distinctly themselves as possible and i like to learn something. i know sometimes i have to be the teacher, but i vastly prefer equal exchanges. there are few people i never grow tired of, but they tend to also be the ones who think similarly and likewise go off on their own from time to time. we maintain a healthy distance even though we could just as easily talk forever and ever and never grow bored. i think thats the kind of relationship i can have only one of at a time and its something i reserve for romatic partners. a romantic partner is someone who is eternally interesting. someone i can be close to and still find more new things about. i still like to have space, but the closeness wouldnt make me squirm. we could talk forvever and ever and maybe we just will. idk. but there it is

#personal rant

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theadmiringbog · 1 year ago

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I focused on work, motherhood, leadership, intimacy, and citizenship and suggested that adopting some socialist policies could more effectively promote women’s autonomy and happiness in the twenty-first century.

skeptics and haters have always scoffed at visions of a better world, especially if they might benefit women.

the “status quo bias.” People prefer things to stay the same so they don’t have to take responsibility for decisions that might potentially change things for the worse.

Patrilineality denotes a set of social customs that confer primacy on the father’s family line.

Patrilineality is why fathers still “give the bride away” to the bridegroom during the traditional Western wedding ceremony, and it’s why about 70 percent of American women in 2015 and 90 percent of British women in 2016 still took their husband’s name after tying the knot.

Patrilocality means that a new bride must leave her family and move into her husband’s household, usually with or near his family (think of Elizabeth Bennet moving from Longbourn to Pemberley in Pride and Prejudice).

our deeper history of patrilocality means that men are expected to be breadwinners because a patrilocal culture assumes that the father must be the head of the new household and therefore primarily responsible for its provisioning.

and passionate friendships,

the social psychologist Eli Finkel challenges the idea of the “all-or-nothing marriage,” highlighting the importance of having “other significant others” in our lives.

“Imagination is more important than knowledge,” said Albert Einstein in 1931. “For knowledge is limited, whereas imagination embraces the entire world, stimulating progress, giving birth to evolution.”47

Instead of paying a premium for privacy, what would happen if we chose to reorganize our lives to maximize our social connectedness?

co-living keeps rents low by increasing shared livable space. Bedrooms and sometimes small bathrooms remain private, but living rooms and dining rooms are communal. Building one large kitchen costs less than building dozens of individual kitchens and these savings get (at least theoretically) passed on to residents.

in Paris, a group of twenty older women created a néo-béguinage called the Maison des Babayagas,

In general, American cohousing often retains a more explicit commitment to autonomous, owner-occupied households, with fewer obligations for collective labor, distinguishing itself from the much derided idea of “communes” or “cults” that populate the American imagination of cooperative living.77 As of 2017, more than a hundred and fifty cohousing communities flourished across the United States, many of them like the community at Two Echo in Maine, where people built their own homes on a property that they purchased in common with their neighbors.

Not everything was rosy; other kids who grew up in American cohousing communities complained about the lack of privacy, the constant gossip, as well as of the racial and economic homogeneity.

Imagine the advantage if those we lived near agreed beforehand on a set of protocols to handle any future conflicts. In a cohousing community, residents move in knowing the rules and come with a commitment to a more collective ideal of living together.

Some might find it easier to buy a shared house or property and live together with a group of close friends, Golden Girls style. In

pairs. A growing number of women now (anonymously) admit that they regret having kids, despite the social outrage they face for challenging pervasive stereotypes about motherhood.

By making early childcare a socially provided good, we can ensure that children born into all families—no matter what their economic situation—enjoy the education and the emotional attention necessary to build a more harmonious society.

In my earlier chapter on housing, I looked specifically at various utopian visions for cohabitation with nonconsanguineous others and how living together with larger groups of people can bind us in quasi-familial types of relationships, or what some people call “chosen families.”

While many of us freely join our finances and intermingle our possessions upon marriage or in order to demonstrate our status as domestic partners, this practice only rarely occurs with our friends, neighbors, classmates, or colleagues with whom we maintain clear boundaries.

If a wealthy firstborn son died without leaving a male heir, his money and properties automatically transferred to his younger brother, and thereby regularly to the Church. This led the historian Laura Betzig to propose that part of the reason the Catholic Church strictly enforced monogamous marriage was to further its own financial interests.

non-monogamy still

For millennia, women and girls—who are not the source of the problem—have been cut off from their kin networks; bartered, traded, or sold; rendered dependent on their fathers and husbands by legal codes and religious injunctions depriving them of opportunities to support themselves; and prevented from exercising basic control over their own bodies, so that one class of men can hoard resources that might otherwise be shared. Once these underlying dynamics are exposed, it is only reasonable to begin wondering whether there might be a better way of doing things. This is why utopians have long considered the nuclear family an important site for challenging the political and economic structures that produce status and resource hierarchies in the first place.

we have to ask ourselves some uncomfortable questions: Are we still perpetuating the monogamous nuclear family out of the illusion that biparental care is optimal, out of the fear of potential male violence or the perceived need for male resources, or because our religious traditions and state institutions define it as “normal”? Are we clinging to an outdated model of the family that served specific economic purposes because we are on autopilot? Or because we feel uncomfortable deviating from society’s expectations of how we should or shouldn’t arrange our most intimate lives? And what would a better kind of family look like anyway?

August Bebel, who also viewed the monogamous nuclear family as a prison that trapped women by making them economically dependent on fathers, husbands, or sons.

Rather than treating significant others as the sole source of affection, validation, emotional support, and sexual satisfaction, Kollontai hoped that young Soviets would collectively evolve beyond the need for socially imposed monogamy once they lived in a more equitable and cooperative society. Kollontai recognized the ubiquity of jealousy and possessiveness that people felt when they fell in love. Kollontai also accepted that infidelity, abandonment, and unrequited love caused people great emotional distress, and that passionate romantic love could drive people to do outrageous things. But she believed that people would be less wounded by betrayal or rejection if they received affection and support from a wider network of colleagues and friends.

Kollontai wanted the Soviet state to promote a culture of robust platonic relationships. “Friendship is a more sociable emotion than sexual love,” Kollontai once said. “You can have many friends at a time, because there are different strings which vibrate in contact with different people.”

In terms of our mating practices, we have a wide variety of potential models to choose from, models that all have long histories: including celibacy, serial monogamy, “complex marriage,” platonic pair bonding, polygamy, polyamory, and open non-monogamy.

consanguine and nonconsanguineous adults.

An increasing number of single parents are also co-parenting with non-romantic partners, a trend often referred to as “platonic parenting.” Like platonic marriages, platonic parenting can involve two or more adults who agree to legally commit to raise a child together. Co-parents

Daniela Cutas argues that platonic co-parenting or multi-parenting might actually be better for children because adults will tend to choose their potential co-parents more rationally than they choose their romantic partners.

Militant Optimism

“militant optimism,” a social and psychological commitment to imagining a better world and striving to make it real. Rather than thinking that historical processes lie beyond our control—that history happens to us—Bloch’s three-volume rumination on the politics of hope proposes that people actively produce history every day through the collective actions of those living through it as an ever-contingent present.

In a similar way to how we collectively believe in paper money, many of us also embrace the fiction that the way we organize our private lives is the only way available to us. Even if we understand in the abstract about the pressures parents face, the strain that child-rearing places on romantic relationships, the high divorce rate, the prevalence of child abuse and intimate partner violence, and the very real possibilities of our own or our partner’s long-term unemployment, disability, or death, we replicate the domestic form that makes us the most vulnerable to these problems because it is convenient and because that’s what everyone expects of us.

what matters most is taking the journey and considering the kinds of changes that might make our domestic lives less isolated, more flexible, and more ecologically sustainable: things like universal childcare, cooperative living, ethical education for self-reliance and critical thinking, shared property, and family expansionism. I’m not saying it’s easy to change these things, but the path to change lies in the continued struggle. As the Uruguayan writer Eduardo Galeano once explained: “Utopia is on the horizon. I move two steps closer; it moves two steps further away. I walk another ten steps and the horizon runs ten steps further away. As much as I may walk, I’ll never reach it. So what’s the point of utopia? The point is this: to keep walking.”

In terms of the architecture of our minds, hope is to the future what memory is to the past. If you have a good memory, you have the ability to remember specific details of events that occurred long ago.

Hope, on the other hand, is the mental ability to imagine the future; to project forward a perception of what might come to pass and to orient yourself to those contingent possibilities.

C. R. Snyder, one of the leading psychologists who did research in this area, proposed that “hope is defined as the perceived capability to derive pathways to desired goals, and motivate oneself via agency thinking to use those pathways.”

people who are good at hoping are those who can set clear goals, can ponder multiple ways of attaining those goals, and muster the willpower to pursue them in the face of obstacles or the specter of disappointment.

“hope training” can combat depression, anxiety, and stress.12 Most hope therapy originates from C. R. Snyder’s work and includes a variety of mental exercises such as hope mapping, guided daydreaming, hope journaling, and other techniques that allow people to clearly visualize specific goals (both great and small), to consider potential obstacles (both internal and external), and then unleash their imaginations to conjure up multiple pathways to how those obstacles might be overcome, not so different from the blue sky thinking that scientists do when faced with an intractable problem. One

Hope differs from optimism because the latter is just a belief that everything will work out well, whereas hope is an active thought process that affirms our ability to influence the future course our lives or societies will take.

This brings us to hope as an emotional state that exists on a spectrum from hopefulness to hopelessness. For Ernst Bloch, the opposites of hope are fear and anxiety.

How many people in unhappy relationships stay because they are afraid of being alone? The fear of not meeting someone else overrides the possibility of meeting someone who might make them happier. Similarly, hopes for changing the world for the better get clobbered by fears of potentially making it worse.

In a world of real or imagined scarcity, we arrange our domestic lives to protect ourselves against an uncertain future, hoarding as many resources and privileges as possible. In a society with less precarity and with resources more equitably distributed, we will worry less about hustling to make sure we have a bigger slice of the pie than those around us.

If we lived in wider networks of people who shared their resources, we would become less precarious. Both processes are interdependent. It may be that we will geoengineer our way out of the climate crisis, and that one day we will all share unlimited, free solar power; enjoy universal basic incomes funded by our collective ownership of the robots and algorithms that will do most necessary labor; and live in real democratic societies where “material needs no longer exist,” but none of that is possible without fundamentally rethinking the basis upon which we organize our intimate lives to free us from selfish individualism.41

This doesn’t mean that we will lose our individualism. It does mean that the ways we mark ourselves as different and interesting will be decoupled from how much those markers increase our value on competitive labor or marriage markets. Personal branding will be a thing of the past.

Each one of us, right now, has the power to start building a different world, beginning with our own families and communities. There are countless things you can do to cultivate change in your daily life as it is. If you are in a monogamous pair, try to spend more time with your non-couple friends and make sure your partner does the same. Nurture all sorts of lateral relationships by finding novel ways to share with your neighbors and colleagues. Get back in touch with old friends. Chat with people at the grocery store. Daydream.

If you have kids, let them spend more time with their grandparents, godparents, aunts, uncles, and family friends. Try to swap more childcare with other parents and create long-term parenting pods. Consider different housing arrangements or join a book club or some form of continuing adult education. And if you have the freedom and opportunity to do so, why not shake things up entirely? Start a free store or join an upcycling collective. Uproot and resettle in an intentional community or ecovillage. Explore different forms of cooperative living and working. Adopt a mononym. Try to meet new people way outside of your established circle of acquaintances. Make strangers into kin.

We must imagine the future that we want, to think of it as a concrete goal, and consider the different pathways available to realize that future, no matter how outlandish or impossible this future might seem to us now.

As the Dutch historian Rutger Bregman observes, embracing a positive vision for the future usually means “weathering a storm of ridicule. You’ll be called naive. Obtuse. Any weakness in your reasoning will be mercilessly exposed. Basically, it’s easier to be a cynic.”45 That is why we need to hope together: out loud, with each other, every day.

#books #Everyday Utopia

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loveissilentlyworthit · 2 years ago

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If there's one thing I know, I want to always hold hands with her and stay beside her. I want her to know that she's always here with me. I know I sound very overprotective of her, but not just that, but our relationship too. I myself may have lots of women friends but I know I'm always loyal and chosen to the only one girl I love the most in my life and I'm very serious to be with her and safeguard our relationship.

Especially to the friends and people my girlfriend goes out to meet but I never got recognized which is lowkey saddening. But yeah when my girlfriend gets asked to take a picture I'll always call her "sayang", "baby girl", "sweet cheeks", "sweetie" or "babe" while helping her out, at least I'm not holding back people know that me and my girlfriend are dating. I'll be upset if people didn't knew, but yeah, that feeling is natural for both of us as boyfriends and girlfriends, and also, the fact that the cosplayer guy/girl has a lot of recognition than their girlfriends/boyfriends would need to be given a shoutout too, but as long as their privacies are meant to be respected. I deeply understand when my girlfriend told me she doesn't want to show off much which I understand that too that private relationships saves lives, but we gotta be smart on it, to realize what's the point of being private but you're not so committed to your loved one?

Now that I think again, if people want to know so much about us together, meet us in person and see how convinced you are that we're both dating. It's just that we prefer to keep our lovey doveyness in private so not to attract random people out there and I know my girlfriend is super shy so to solve that, it's this:

Date in private Love in private Be happy in private Just enjoy your life without any judgement from people surrounds you.

And thus my girlfriend is right about one thing, we don't want to show off that much when we're dating together. But we know each other consciously that we're always here for each other, in private. If they really want to know, it's us walking around the con holding hands together, nothing more, nothing less. But I do admit I feel better being recognized when I'm there to take care of my girlfriend.

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heliads · 3 years ago

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hiii i love your writing and was wondering if i could request a fic for nikolai? maybe some enemies to lovers where they used to be close friends but for some reason they arent anymore. maybe with the one bed trope where they admit they love each other. can the reader also be a tidemaker pls? omg this was so long thank you very muchh! <33

enemies to lovers AND one bed trope?? anon say no more

masterlist

You have just received your latest assignment from Zoya Nazyalensky, and you don’t think you’ve ever been more upset.

Zoya, cold-hearted darling as she is, simply watches you pace back and forth across her sitting room. You think she might be deriving some form of joy from how sharp you make your turns.

“Are you sure you can’t change this around? Even a little bit?” You dare to ask.

Zoya appears resolute, as expected. “I’m afraid I can’t. Nikolai Lantsov is leaving the Grand Palace, which means that he needs to be under the strongest supervision possible. You’re the best Tidemaker we’ve got, which means you’ll be there, personal preferences aside.”

You eye her suspiciously. “That’s the closest you’ve ever come to complimenting me. Surely you wouldn’t just be saying that because you want to persuade me into not backing out of this assignment?”

Zoya regards you coolly. “If I wanted to convince you to stay in the assignment, I would say the truth, like how if you run away from this you’ll be a treasonous deserter. Also, our king’s death will be on your shoulders.”

You grimace. “Fantastic. I suppose I’ll be going through with it then.”

Zoya smirks. “Excellent to hear. I don’t know why your past history with Nikolai would be enough to dissuade you from your intended job.”

You give her a look. “He betrayed me, Zoya! I have every right to avoid him.”

Zoya sighs theatrically. “What did he even do, again?”

“I was assigned to protect him once, back before he was Sturmhond. He ditched me to go be a pirate and the king almost killed me for it. In all that time, Nikolai never once apologized or tried to save me from the chopping block. All he cared about was his own freedom.” You explain.

Zoya arches a carefully manicured brow. “I’m fairly sure that every single Ravkan has only ever cared about their own freedom. Also, he’d rather have you call him a privateer than a pirate.”

You fight the urge to throw something. “Close enough.”

Zoya might have actually smiled at that. “I would hold off on your rants against our king, though. He’s approaching down the hall. I can hear him coming.”

You can’t hear anything yourself, but you’ve spent enough time around Zoya to know that she’s probably using her gifts as a Squaller to listen to the differences in the airflow outside her door. You retreat to a less visible corner of her sitting room just as the door opens to reveal a more than slightly fatigued-looking Lantsov king.

Nikolai closes the door to Zoya’s sitting room behind him, and leans dramatically against its wooden panels. “Must I really have a personal guard to go to this meeting? I’ll be with officers of my own navy, for the Saints’ sake. I don’t think I could be more safe if I tried.”

Zoya folds her arms over her chest. “You need to not be killed. You know that as well as I do.”

Nikolai bows his head in remonstration. “And I do know it, my most fearsome general. That’s why I’m traveling with a convoy of a couple dozen soldiers. I don’t see the purpose of making someone else shadow my footsteps everywhere I go. If they got sick of me, it would do terrible things to my ego.”

Zoya snorts. “Your ego will survive, I’m certain. Besides, there’s no debate on the matter. You need to live, so you’re having the personal guard, kingly orders be damned.”

Nikolai squints up at her, as if trying to see if he can find a chink in her armor to argue his way out of this. Evidently he can’t, even for a seasoned orator such as himself, so he just sighs and gives up complaining.

“Fine, then. Who’s my guard?”

He still hasn’t seen you, but you don’t really want to watch him discuss you with Zoya, so you step forward out of your alcove. “That would be me.”

Zoya rolls her eyes slightly at your theatrics, but Nikolai scarcely has a reaction at all. You watch him closely, searching for any signs of recognition or guilt over what he did to you, but all you see is a pleasant expression slowly cascade across his face. It’s an expression he’s likely worn countless other times, when meeting with diplomats or soldiers or anything when he feels nothing at all.

“Ah, Y/N L/N. I see I’m in good hands.”

You fight the urge to arch a brow. He decided that your hands weren’t good enough when he stranded you alone in Ketterdam to go become Sturmhond, but that’s neither here nor there.

Zoya looks rather entertained by the proceedings. “I’m glad to see everything is going well, then. I’ll leave you two to get reacquainted.”

She has the audacity to leave her own sitting room with the two of you still inside. You and Nikolai both watch her go, then slowly turn back to each other. Nikolai’s pleasant smile is still firmly locked onto his face, and you’re not sure that even the sharpest of swords could cut it away from his countenance.

“Well, Y/N, I’m glad that I’ll have your talents to keep me safe while we’re out of Os Alta. I’ve heard quite a number of good things about you.”

Your smile is just as forced as his. “I would ask if you remembered my talents from our previous experience together, but I suppose that you left before you could get a good idea of my skill as a Tidemaker.”

It’s a low blow, but you don’t particularly care. You and Nikolai had been close when you were stationed together. You’d even consider him a friend, up until the point when he left you high and dry to face the wrath of his father.

This remark is enough to shake Nikolai’s confident expression. “Well, I’m glad I’ll be able to right that wrong on this trip,” he adds. “I expect quite the show, if necessary.”

“I hope I’m enough for your expectations.” You say. You could tack on ‘this time’ to the end of your sentence, but you’re fairly sure that Nikolai gets your point.

He moves to open his mouth, but you don’t particularly want to hear his politicking and reasoning about how he was right to leave, or listen to him deny it, so you follow Zoya’s lead and flee the room. You may be serving under his rule, but that doesn’t mean you have to like him.

You leave a matter of days later. At first, you depart on horseback, riding alongside an unmarked carriage so as to not indicate that any royals are traveling inside. You’ll be traveling for about a week to get to the coasts so Nikolai can talk to his navy; until then, you just have to survive the trip and make sure Nikolai does as well.

You’re hoping that he’ll be able to read into your silence and realize that you really don’t want to talk to him, but this isn’t the case. About two days into the trip, Nikolai asks that you join him in the carriage. He claims that he does it because he wants to make sure that his principal Grisha defender doesn’t get taken out by a sniper while on horseback. You have a feeling that it’s actually because he wants to talk.

Unfortunately, your theories are proven correct. The second the coach starts moving, you take up a position by the window. Even though you’re opposite Nikolai, your gaze is firmly fixed on the countryside rolling past outside.

He coughs pointedly into his hand about ten minutes into the journey. “If you intend on ignoring me for the entire duration of this voyage, I feel like you won’t be protecting me to your utmost potential.”

You break from your enamored looks through the window to stare unhappily at him. “I am monitoring the scenery for any chance of attack. I’d consider that protecting you to my utmost potential.”

Nikolai raises a finger to his temple. “That’s why we have the Heartrenders and soldiers. You, however, were specifically tasked to protect me, not the wood nymphs.”

You fold your arms delicately across your chest. “I am always welcome to constructive criticism on how to best save lives. What tips do you have to offer me?”

Nikolai looks almost humored by this. “Okay, I’ll accept that. Still, I would rather like it if you could pretend I exist without my having to call attention to myself. Typically, I have enough advisors to do that for me, but we are running on a limited staff. I’m sure you can understand.”

You smile at him, although there is nothing happy in the expression. “Understanding is one of my best skills. Also drowning people.”

Nikolai gives you a look. “Ah, but drowning is another matter entirely. I’m merely looking for proof that you still have a heart, or if some Corporalnik has removed it from your chest. I mean, I thought we were friends. We talked, we had jokes that no one else could understand. Looking at you now, I’d think we’d never met in the first place.”

You look at him directly, all pretenses forgotten. “Don’t act like this is my fault, Your Highness. I wasn’t the one who left, and you weren’t the one who had to deal with the aftereffects of what you did to me.”

You lean back against your seat, breath coming harsh in your chest. Despite the fact that you’ve gone and yelled at the king of Ravka, something that is strictly forbidden for a Grisha soldier, he doesn’t look affronted.

In fact, he looks pleased, as if you’ve gone and proved him right by reacting. A moment later, you realize you have. Nikolai wanted to see if you still harbored feelings for him that weren’t solely anger, and you just gave him an answer: yes. Damn him and his conniving, princely interrogation tactics. Even after all this time, you’re still not sufficiently on your guard around him.

You can’t take his self-serving expression any longer, so you mutter something under your breath about going to monitor the situation outside and pull yourself out of the coach and onto the side in one swift movement. From there, you’re able to take a seat up front next to the driver, where you glower at the road until your party comes to a stop.

You don’t have to come face to face with Nikolai again until the next night, when your group stops to rest. You’ll go in unannounced to sleep, then re enter the town in the morning in a whirlwind of fanfare and celebration typical for a Lantsov king.

Right now, though, you need to stay undercover so as to avoid potential assassins. This means you’ll be sleeping the night away in a quiet inn, and it also means that you’ll be sharing the room with Nikolai. Seeing as you’re his personal guard, it has to be you. That doesn’t make it any better, though.

Nikolai, however, seems to be positively delighted by this latest turn of events. He closes the door behind the two of you with a flourish, tossing his traveling coat down on the back of a nearby chair.

“I have to say, I’m quite pleased with the quality of Ravkan accommodations. I’ve seen scarcely any rats at all.”

You tighten your jaw, but do your best to remain calm. “I hope you’re only talking about vermin, because I’m fairly sure there are more than a few spies. I’d guess Fjerdan, but there could be more.”

Nikolai sighs, shucking his boots from his heels. “I appreciate your dedication to my good health, but we can talk about more than just my safety.”

You raise a brow. “I thought you wanted me to notice you? I’m noticing the fact that you’re not dead yet.”

Nikolai grins broadly. “Was that a joke? Are we joking together? That’s progress.”

You roll your eyes. “I already regret it.”

His smile is shameless. “I should hope not. We do need to be a little more than enemies, especially for tonight.”

You frown. “What does that mean?”

Nikolai gestures at the room around you. “There’s only one bed, and two of us.”

You glance around with widened eyes, but he’s right. In all your time spent patrolling the area, you hadn’t paid much attention to your actual living quarters. There’s a tiny couch wedged into a corner of the room, but you’ve scarcely let your eyes rest on it before Nikolai shakes his head.

“Not a chance. I am not letting my best guard spend the night on what’s basically an upholstered rock.”

You walk over to it, hoping that it’ll seem more comfortable than your first glance, although this is not the case. “Why not? It’s what’s expected. You certainly can’t sleep on it.”

Nikolai shudders. “Neither of us are. I wouldn’t even let the aforementioned rats spend the night there. I hate to say it, but we’re going to both be in this bed.”

You must have reacted more than you thought, because he tilts his head back, laughing. “I’m not going to do anything, you know. It would destroy my conscience.”

You cross the room to reach the bed, tossing yourself onto it so you can consider suffocating yourself with the threadbare pillows. “I didn’t know you had one.”

Nikolai lets out an obviously fake laugh, climbing onto the bed on the other side. “Hilarious. And don’t look at me like that, I’m literally as far away from you as I can be.”

You pull the woolen blankets up around your waist, if more for a lack of a proper response than anything else. “You don’t have to look so happy about it.”

Nikolai groans. “And instead I should, what, look miserable like you? Listen, I know we had a situation when I left all those years ago, but I don’t see what could possibly have happened that would make you as mad as you are right now.”

You laugh bitterly. “Of course you don’t understand, you weren’t there. Do you know how the king reacted when he found out that I lost his son? He wanted me dead. He even dragged me in front of some shoddy trial to see what kind of fate I should receive. He was debating between sending me into the Shadow Fold without a skiff or simply dealing with a firing squad.”

Nikolai has fallen silent, and when you glance over at him, he looks bone-pale. It appears he didn’t know any of this.

You continue on.

“He wanted me dead because I made him look weak. I was responsible for the fact that the king didn’t know where his own son was. The only reason I’m still alive is because the Darkling took an interest in me and asked your father to spare my life. Do you know what it’s like to live under the Darkling’s benediction? I had to do whatever he wanted, all of the time. If I wasn’t perfect in executing his will, he made me feel like a failure, someone not even worthy of the air I breathe. All of that, because you didn’t care enough to at least send a letter back to the king and explain what happened.”

It takes Nikolai several moments to come up with enough strength to respond. You’ve heard stories of the king’s wicked wit, and either those were all lies or you’ve shaken him enough that he’s forgotten how to string words together into a sentence.

“I didn’t know that. I thought they would just chalk it up to my error and leave you alone. Saints know my father has never had a problem with blaming me before.”

You turn on your side to look at him. “It doesn’t matter what your intentions were, the outcome still happened. The worst part is that you didn’t take me with you. You were on a pirate ship, of all things, and I’m a Tidemaker. There is no place more suited for me, and you left me to rot in Ravka.”

Nikolai winces. “You think that I’m selfish to not have taken you. The truth is that I wanted most desperately to have you with me, but I thought I would be too selfish to take you from your Little Palace. I saw you training before we left, I saw how happy you were to be practicing your gift. Even the night before I left, I was still fighting the part of myself that wanted to convince you to come with me.”

You nod. “If you asked, I would have gone.”

Nikolai’s eyes flutter shut for a second, as if he’s picturing that moment all those years before. “I knew that, which was the worst part. I didn’t want to force you into a life of danger, stuck on the seas, so I left. It might be the thing I regret the most. Every night, I thought about you, what you were doing, if you hated me. I am ashamed to see that you do.”

Now it’s your turn to fall silent.

“I tried to fix this. I knew I had to,” he says, “I owe you that much. I asked Zoya to place you on a mission with me five times before, but she said no every time. I think she wanted to protect you from whatever I could want.’

You smile wistfully, thinking of your friend. “She doesn’t trust powerful men.”

Nikolai chuckles softly. “She’s not wrong for that. Still, I must have done something to convince her otherwise, because she gave in this time, and I’ve never known Zoya to back down to anything if she didn’t feel it was wise.”

He looks over at you now, and you feel caught in his gaze. “So, Y/N? Have I convinced you as well? I never wanted to hurt you, I can promise that.”

You think the world may have shrunk to just the two of you, connected by the same woven blankets and tied strings of promises long gone. You have missed him all this time, haven’t you? You’ve missed your inside jokes, his laugh when he’s not trying to put on a pretense of being someone worth noticing. You have missed this.

“You have.”

You say it simply, but Nikolai smiles as if you’ve promised him the world. In a way, you suppose, you have.

grishaverse tag list: @rogueanschel, @deadreaderssociety, @cameronsails, @aleksanderwh0r3, @story-scribbler, @retvenkos, @thatfangirl42, @amortensie

#nikolai lantsov #nikolai lantsov x reader #nikolai lantsov oneshot #nikolai lantsov imagines #grishaverse #grishaverse imagines #grishaverse x reader #grishaverse oneshot #shadow and bone #shadow and bone imagines #shadow and bone x reader #shadow and bone oneshot #grishaverse nikolai #grishaverse nikolai imagines #grishaverse nikolai x reader #grishaverse nikolai oneshot

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ibijau · 3 years ago

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Oh, here's a prompt! Nie Huaisang travels back in time to ensure that Jin Guangyao stays away from the Jin sect. When he gets back, he's disturbed to find that not only is Meng Yao now his stepbrother (or has at least become a very respected disciple of the Nie sect), but is also now engaged to Lan Xichen. Cue screaming and/or fainting. But at least Minjue is still alive, right?

It was surprisingly easy to make it all happen, much to Nie Huaisang's surprise. In stories time travel was always so complicated to orchestrate, with so much to plan for... but Nie Huaisang had just done it, and it seemed to be working well.

His first stop had been to Meng Shi, shortly after the birth of her son. He could have gone back further and prevented her from ever having that son, but... but at the end of the day, he'd been impossibly fond of Meng Yao even if he'd grown to hate Jin Guangyao. The solution, then, had been to visit his mother and make sure she didn't fill her son's head with impossible dreams.

It had taken some money to get Meng Shi out of the brothel for a few days, and she'd been quite suspicious of him at first. But Nie Huaisang had been a gentleman, and she'd warmed up to him a little. She'd even given up on trying to seduce him once he'd explained that while not opposed to feminine charms on occasion, he mostly cut his sleeve. She'd acted quite sorry for him when he'd explained that actually, he'd just gotten out of a long relationship that had ended badly due to some trust issues and a the betrayal of a man they'd believed to be their friend. Meng Shi had shared a few stories as well, some her own, most her colleagues'.

By the time they'd arrived in Lanling, Nie Huaisang had become quite attached to Meng Shi, and decided he might change his plans a little, depending on what would happen in the next few days.

Meng Shi was not happy to meet other women who'd had the dubious pleasure of sharing Jin Guansghan's bed. She was even less happy to talk to them and learn that none of them, not a single one, had ever received money or attention again after he'd left them, not even those who'd had a child. One of them, the servant of a powerful family of merchants, had gone begging at the door of the Jin sect when her three years old daughter had fallen sick with something nobody understood. She'd been sent home under threats of a beating if she ever showed up again, and her daughter had died.

That had been nearly four years earlier. Jin Guangshan hadn't been sect leader yet, but he'd been his father's favourite and most spoiled son, so he would have had the power to do anything he pleased, including sending a doctor to his daughter, or having her brought into Jinlin Tai to make sure no dark spirit was attacking her. He wasn't even engaged to his wife at the time, so it was impossible to use her to excuse his lack of care. And he'd known about the child's sickness, because he'd happened to be passing by when the mother came begging for help. It was he who had ordered she be sent away, annoyed by her crying.

Meng Shi had gone paler and paler as that poor woman told her tale of sorrow, clutching her son tighter against her chest. When Nie Huaisang and her had returned to their inn, she had asked him why he'd wanted her to meet those other women.

“I just don't like what he's doing,” Nie Huaisang replied, a little embarrassed that he hadn't thought she might get curious. It was stupid of him. Meng Yao surely couldn't have gotten his brains from his father after all.

Meng Shi, sitting on her bed, rocked her infant son in her arms in silence for a moment.

“They were all weak,” she said after a while.

“Who?”

“Those other women. They were all weak.”

Nie Huaisang tensed, fearing that she might announce she was cut of another cloth, that she would persevere where they had given up, but Meng Shi only sighed and kissed her son's forehead.

“He picked them so they were young and would have no one to turn to. Servants and prostitutes and unwanted daughters... he picked us so we'd have no one to turn to when he'd abandon us, no one to defend our honour and force him to pay for the children he made us have. Women like us, it's our own fault for getting pregnant in the first place, isn't it?”

Nie Huaisang stared at her, and realised she was right. He'd been so busy collecting names, he hadn't paused to wonder if there had been a pattern to Jin Guangshan's actions.

“Are there any more you want me to meet?” Meng Shi asked.

“No, she was the last one.”

“Then I suppose we'll started heading back to Yunping City tomorrow. I'll have to make new plans for...”

“No, we're not going back,” Nie Huaisang announced, startling her. “It's too unfair if you go back, you deserve better. Both of you deserve better!”

She blinked a few times, and gave him an amused smile, still rocking her baby. She didn't believe him, of course. Nie Huaisang could hardly blame her for that. After her last experience with a cultivator...

But Meng Shi really did deserve better. Nevermind that in a future he hoped to have now prevented, he'd desecrated her body to get back at her son, this was a different thing. Meng Shi was not a bad person. He'd once thought her guilty of ambition at least, but after a couple weeks in her company, he realised she'd just been desperate for a chance to escape her lot in life. He couldn't really hate her for that, even if it had led to such tragedies after her death.

Nie Huaisang liked her now that he'd met her, and he couldn't condemn her and her son to a worse fate than what they'd have known without him.

He needed a plan.

He needed a smart plan.

He had a plan.

“So, I might have lied a little, you're going back to the brothel,” Nie Huaisang said, earning an unimpressed smirk. “But not for long! I'm going to try something but... would you be willing to lie about who sired your son?”

“Why not? At this point, the truth won't get me much.”

“Perfect. Then I'm going to warn my sect that I have fathered a child, and that I'm unable to care for it at the moment. I'll have to write to them but... but I know Nie zongzhu will immediately send for you. He'll probably ask after me, he hasn't seen me in nearly a decade, but I know he won't have forgotten his cousin Nie Xingyu, and he'll do what's right for my son and his mother.”

And there was no risk of the real Nie Xingyu ever returning to ruin that story, Nie Huaisang knew. His father's beloved cousin, who'd become a rogue cultivator after an argument with their grandfather, had actually died a year or two before Nie Mingjue was even born. A Night Hunt accident, one which Nie Huaisang had discovered by chance while investigating some of Jin Guangyao's crimes. But he remembered his father always hoped to see Nie Xingyu return, always speaking so highly of that cousin who had been almost a brother to him.

Nie Huaisang's father would be delighted to meet his cousin's son, and if “Nie Xingyu” asked for it he would buy Meng Shi's contract in a heartbeat. It would only be a matter of convincing sect leader Nie then, and Nie Huaisang wasn't worried about that. His father had kept all the letters his cousin used to send and read them to his sons, so Nie Huaisang was confident he could imitate his prose and handwriting, not to mention he too carried the Nie seal to mark that letter.

At worst, if it didn't work, Nie Huaisang could always find the money somewhere to buy that contract in person and try to find somewhere to leave Meng Shi, but he'd rather know that she and Meng Yao were safe and sound in the Unclean Realm.

Meng Shi, of course, looked unimpressed by his plan. She still thought he was lying, or trying to sell wonders like other men before him so they could share her bed for a reduced fee, or demand more of her than they'd paid for. Nie Huaisang didn't mind. If people's opinions of him mattered, he would have chosen a different way to avenge his brother, wouldn't he?

It took nearly a month after Nie Huaisang had brought Meng Shi back to her brother, but one morning, from the room he'd rented across the street, he saw a small group of Nie cultivators go in. His father was among them, and when they excited the building, he was carrying little Meng Yao in his arms and chatting cheerfully with Meng Shi who seemed shocked at this turn of events.

Unseen by her Nie Huaisang smiled, and went to activate the talisman that would take him back to his own time. Hopefully this would have been enough to save Nie Mingjue. And if it hadn't... well, he knew how to travel to the past now.

Nie Huaisang opened his eyes. He was in his room, and yet not. This was what used to be his room when he was young, before he became sect leader. A little smaller, a little more private, with a view on a small private garden where he kept his favourite birds. Hisroom, the one he'd always preferred, and had only abandoned in a desperate attempt to be the leader he'd thought his people would need. If he still lived in this room, then it meant Nie Huaisang wasn't sect leader.

Delighted by this apparent victory, Nie Huaisang sprung to his feet and rushed out of the room, only to run head first into someone.

He'd ran into that person enough times that he knew them instantly, even before seeing their face.

“Well someone is in a hurry,” Nie Mingjue said with a laugh.

A laugh.

Nie Mingjue was laughing. Nie Huaisang couldn't even remember the last time he'd heard his brother laugh like this. Not since the Sunshot Campaign, he thought.

“Your cousins haven't arrived yet,” said someone standing just a step behind Nie Mingjue, her voice also full of laughter. “You didn't oversleep, don't worry.”

It took all of Nie Huaisang's willpower to look away from his brother (Nie Mingjue, happy, laughing, healthy) but he managed it, because that other voice was a little too familiar.

It was odd to find Meng Shi in her fifties when just a few hours ago, Nie Huaisang had seen her in her early twenties. Her hair had turned grey, there were wrinkles on her face, and she had exchanged the bold colours she used to wear at the brothel for the muted tones the Nie sect favoured. It suited her. Growing old suited her, if only because she would never have had the chance, had Nie Huaisang not changed her fate.

“I think he's not quite awake yet,” Nie Mingjue teased when Nie Huaisang stared too long, poking his little brother in the shoulder. “But at least I don't have to drag him out of bed. Can I leave the rest to you, auntie?”

Meng Shi smiled, and assured him she'd make sure Nie Huaisang was ready for his cousins' arrival. Nie Mingjue thanked her and left. Nie Huaisang almost ran after him, suddenly needing to touch him, to hug him, to make sure this was real, that he had truly...

“Now it's finally you,” Meng Shi noted, earning a curious glance. “I've realised a few years ago that you looked oddly similar to the man who helped me. Too similar to simply count it as family resemblance. But until today, you didn't look quite right either.”

When Nie Huaisang could only blink at her, she laughed.

“I thought so. I've been wondering for years, but... you did something to change what was meant to happen, didn't you?”

“I did. I wanted... I needed to save certain people.”

“Your brother,” Meng Shi guessed.

Nie Huaisang nodded.

“And my son?”

He nodded again. “Where is he? Is he well? He learned cultivation, right?”

Meng Shi smiled proudly. “He's one of the best in his generation, people keep telling me. He's married now, and living with his husband, but they come visit often. They wanted me to come live with them in the Cloud Recesses, but it's too cold for me over there, and I like the friends I've made here in Qinghe, so I... is something wrong?”

Nie Huaisang nodded, then shook his head. “His husband?”

“A-Yao is married to Lan zongzhu,” she explained. “I would have preferred if he'd married a woman, but Lan zongzhu is a very good husband to him, and they always seem so very happy when they're together. It's all a mother can truly wish for, isn't it? To see her child settled and happy.”

Nie Huaisang said nothing.

He did not run back into his room, didn't hurriedly prepare some ink so he could draw another time travelling talisman and set things right. It was tempting, so tempting. But Nie Huaisang resisted that temptation, and forced himself to smile.

“I'm so happy for them,” he mumbled after a while, and hoped he would learn to mean it.

#Meng Shi #Nie Huaisang #xisang #xiyao #mo dao zu shi #mdzs #jau writes #this was super fun to write thanks for the prompt!!

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yelena-bellova · 4 years ago

Text

Safe Haven: tfatws!Bucky Barnes x fem!reader - Chapter One

Chapter One: The Other Wilson Sister - chapter two

Series Masterlist

Plot: Y/n grew up with Sam and Sarah Wilson in the bayou of Delacroix. During the Blip she stayed with Sarah to help run the family business. With Sam back and trying to save the day, Y/n’s perfect opportunity to confess her long-kept secret to her best friend presents itself.

Warnings: tfatws ep.1 spoilers, language, suicide mention, undertones of racism, lots of Wilson sibling arguments, tragic backstory

Word Count: 5.9k

A/N: As I wrote this first chapter out I realized it’s most definitely also a Sam Wilson x platonic fic. Bucky doesn’t come in till next chapter but rest assured, it’s gonna be a wild ride...Also I didn’t know till now how difficult it is to plan out a series in its entirety when the show isn’t completed lol. Hope you enjoy! (I may or may not change the title depending on how I feel about it later today lol)

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Delacroix, LA 2024

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One of the only things I was certain of in life was that blood didn’t make a family.

I had no official tie to Wilson family, I wasn’t a daughter or some distant cousin sent to live with them. We shared no DNA and they had no reason to love me as much as they did. But throughout my life I had known no kinder people than them and I doubted that would change. As I stood on the family boat helping to unload the catch of the day, I thought of how our corner of the Louisiana bayou felt more like home than any place I’d ever been.

“Hey,” Sarah said from the dock, “Head out of the clouds and down here helping me.” “Sorry,” I shook myself out of my thoughts and hopped off the boat, “Not a bad catch if you ask me.”

Sarah sighed as she bent over a large bucket of fish, “It could’ve been better.” I came to stand in front of her and held my hands out for a bucket, “Take the wins where you can get ‘em, Sar. Lord knows we don’t get enough of them.” Sarah Wilson was the only superhero I’d ever aspire to be like. She was a widow who had raised two kids and run a business all by herself with no family for support. The past five years had been challenging with so many people gone and while I had moved in with her to help however I could, I could take no credit. She was one of the strongest women I’d ever known.

“You had that look on your face again,” she said as we worked.

“What look?”

“That look that lets me know you were thinking real hard about something,” Sarah imitated the expression in question by thinning her eyes slightly and furrowing her brows, “Like this.” I laughed heartily at her impression, “So what was it?” I gazed out at the bayou waters before turning to the boat and finally Sarah, “Family.”

She nudged me with her hip, something we’d done when we were young and an affectionate gesture we’d carried into adulthood. A half hour went by with us and the boys unloading and sorting the fish we’d caught. I was too wrapped up in the task to notice the sound of a vehicle approaching until AJ and Cass announced the arrival.

“Blue for the snapper, orange for the whitefish.”

“Uncle Sam!”

My head shot up upon hearing his name, as did Sarah’s. I used my hand as a visor against to sun to spot the familiar rusted truck parked a few hundred feet away, with my best friend standing outside it hugging his nephews.

“That’s right, Uncle Sam,” Sarah called, “You’re back early.”

I grinned as I shucked my gloves off and made a beeline for him, slamming my body into his for a tight embrace. It had been a few weeks since I’d seen him, having spent the only weekend he was off away, and I’d naturally been worried sick about him. My best friend and un-biological brother may have been an Avenger for years, but after losing him in the Blip I didn’t think I’d ever stop worrying about him.

“Every time I come home, you act like I’ve been gone for five years,” he joked over my shoulder, resulting in me pulling away and slapping his bicep.

“Not even a little funny,” I pointed a finger in his smug face, he slung an arm around my neck as we walked over to Sarah.

“What’s goin’ on? You got Mom’s sneaky look on your face.” “How you gonna try to read me when you know I’m the one that reads you?” Sam smiled, passing by and greeting a long time customer of ours. “That look is permanently glued to his face, Sar,” I chuckled, “I learned that in grade school.” Sam shook his head at me and laughed before making his way up the dock to the Wilson family boat. “You gotta marvel at it, baby’s being held together by duct tape and prayers.” I leaned into Sarah, “Are you telling him or am I?” She took the initiative, “It just needs to float long enough for me to sell it.” “I thought we were gonna discuss if we were selling it,” Sam replied as he helped unload another bucket of fish. “We did, and then you were off fighting Doctor Space Cape or whatever while we,” Sarah gestured between us, “Were holdin’ it together for five long years. Now that the world is going back to normal, this thing’s gotta go.”

Sam looked to me with a look of displeasure, “Were you in on this?” “Don’t drag me into this,” I waved my hands as if wiping my involvement away, “This is a Wilson sibling discussion.” “Uh-uh,” Sam called me out, wagging his finger, “Don’t do that. Dad said every chance he got that you were one of his own, you’ve got a say in this too. What is it?” I scrunched my face up, dreading the argument that was knocking on our door, “It’s dead weight, Sam. The money we could get for it would be enough to keep us comfortable for a little longer without having to worry.” “We grew up on this thing. It’s not just Mom and Dad’s name on it. This thing is a part of our family.”

I sighed as Sarah stepped forward, “You know the situation we’re in. This is why I prefer not to dwell on it in front of everybody.” “Well what if we don’t need to sell it?” Sam said. “Can we talk about this in private?” I suggested, tiring of having to convince Sam that we were in the right when he hadn’t been around to witness our struggles. A long time friend of ours called out to Sam and he willingly took the distraction, opting out of having the inevitable difficult conversation. Sarah and I trudged back, totes of fish in hand and tried to get through the rest of the work day without worrying if we were approaching our last.

————

During golden hour, when the clock had struck five and we’d started packing it up for the day was the only time to get Sam to actually listen. I knew how much the boat meant to him, it meant something to us all, but he wasn’t living in the reality that Sarah and I were.

“Sam, the boat’s gotta go,” Sarah finally said, breaking the silence we were working in on the vessel. “Wait-“ “No, let me finish,” she said, “Y/n and I are doin’ everything I can to keep this business afloat and every day we’re making $5 and spending $10.” Sam looked between the two of us, “So why won’t you let me help?”

“Sam, don’t…” I winced, knowing Sarah’s reaction would be strong.

“No, don’t start with that. We made a deal before Daddy died,” Sarah carried a few buckets to the center of the deck, “You’re out there, I do things my way here. Y/n agreed to it too when she went off to school.” “Right, but you tangled the house into this when you took those loans,” Sam finished tying off one of the ropes, turning around and giving Sarah the perfect opportunity to punch his chest, “Forgot how hard you hit.” I sighed as I passed him by to follow Sarah, “Low blow, you deserved it.”

“Sarah, Y/n, c’mon,” he chased after us, “Look, and don’t hit me again…What if you had money to fix it up? Make it nice so you can charter it when you’re not out working the waters?” “Sam, do you think this was an easy decision for us?” I faced him, leaning against the doorway next to him, “I tried every tactic I learned in business school and got nowhere. Anything I thought up, we needed more money to do. This is our only option.” As he always did with the things he cared about, he fought. “We can take a loan and consolidate everything, it’ll take down your monthly,” he looked confused as he watched Sarah laugh, “What?” “You think I didn’t try the banks? They’re in with all that big business now.” I followed them like the little sister I’d always been as they moved their fight towards the cockpit of the boat. Sam blocked another doorway, “Yeah, but now you have me.”

“Don’t, Sam,” Sarah shook her head, “I just got good with this.”

“All right…”

“Maybe it is time for us to move on,” Sarah sighed. “Either way, just let me help,” Sam offered, “I’ll set the appointment. Look, I won’t let you guys down. We can turn this shit around. Trust me.” I peered over at Sarah, wishing I could see the calculations going on in her brain. It seemed pointless, but any shot at changing our luck was an avenue worth pursuing.

“It can’t hurt to try,” I shrugged.

Sarah finally relented, “To the rescue, huh?”

“Always,” Sam smiled, “Now, let’s get some dinner. I’m hungry.” ————

Sarah was taking AJ and Cass back home while Sam and I took his truck to go pick up food.

“So how was Tunisia?” I asked, sticking my hand out the window and letting it rise and fall with the wind.

“Hot, but the mission went well,” he answered, looking out of the corner of his eyes at me, “And that’s all you need to know.”

I snickered, “C’mon, it’s our thing. I ask you detailed questions about your confidential missions, you tell me you can’t reveal anything, I keep asking…You’ve gotta honor tradition.” “I flew, I fought, I rescued. Boom, mission explained.” “Ugh, you’re impossible, Wilson,” I waved him off, “How was the museum dedication?” The atmosphere changed as the subject of conversation changed from easy to complicated. “It was nice to see Steve’s accomplishments celebrated. Got to see Rhodes which was nice…” “You’re avoiding a red white and blue topic,” I said, trying to coax his true feelings out of their shells, “Seriously, are you really okay with this? Giving up the shield?” Sam inhaled deeply and exhaled, gathering his thoughts. “I don’t think it was ever meant to end up in my hands. I did the right thing, it belongs with Steve and the museum is the closest to Steve I can get.” I respected my friend’s choice but I knew there was so much more to his decision and I wished he would just say it. He had an enormous amount of respect for Steve Rogers and what the shield represented, but Steve Rogers never had to face the issues that Sam Wilson did. Steve Rogers could follow a government and be respected in return with no problems whatsoever. Sam Wilson couldn’t, not always. There was an elephant in the room and if neither of us wanted to talk about it, I wouldn’t push it.

“You’d have looked good in that uniform though,” I smiled as we turned into the take out place’s parking lot.

“Damn right,” Sam waggled his eyebrows and unbuckled his seatbelt. Laughter rang out in the truck sending me on waves of nostalgia. The memories that me and him had in this truck still were infamous between us. As proud as I was of the Falcon’s heroics, I was prouder to call Sam Wilson my best friend.

————

Just as he’d promised, Sam made the appointment with the banker. He and Sarah were already on their way as I made the hour long drive in the opposite direction to New Orleans. I’d told them I’d be back in the evening to discuss how it went, but I had my own appointment to keep.

Sam and I had met back when we were just a couple of first graders. I’d always struggled with making friends as a kid, but Sam never had an issue when it came to connecting with others. It was one of his strongest qualities. And so he used his gift on his desk neighbor, the loneliest kid in class, and pulled her out of herself. We were inseparable until college and adulthood forced us apart, but we’d never lost our bond. Even when he was a pararescue, he wrote to me as often as his work allowed him.

All the Wilsons had taken a liking to me after Sam brought me home one day after school to watch cartoons. Darlene had told me I was welcome to come over any time I wanted, an offer Sam and I accepted till I became a permanent fixture in their house. Paul and his wife had frequently tried to get the rest of my family over for a crawfish boil or a barbecue. They’d send me every few weeks with a verbal invitation to my parents and the next day I’d always come back with a polite decline and excuse as to why we couldn’t make it. Mom was busy with spring cleaning, Melanie had a recital, Dad was feeling under the weather…

The only one that had ever been true was about my dad not feeling well. He was never well. But as a child, how do you explain that your father is a ghost around his own home who drinks himself to sleep and wakes up each night screaming from nightmares? There was no polite way to phrase circumstances that dark. Sometimes I felt like my dad had never returned from the military and though there hadn’t been a war at the time of his service, he still came back with his share of trauma. Mom did everything she could to try and help him. She found support groups for veterans, she took him to the best psychiatrists, she created a safe space for him within our home to retreat to. There was no amount of help that could kill my father’s demons and that was proven the night he’d said we were out of milk and he was going to the store. A few hours later, with my sister and I fast asleep upstairs, my worried mother answered the door and was informed by the police that my father had crashed his car and was dead. After speaking to Mom about what his mood had been like before he’d left and if he suffered from any mental illnesses, it was ruled as an undoubtable suicide.

My mother didn’t get much time to mourn after the funeral, she had two children to provide for. She took three jobs just to earn enough to move us from our house in New Orleans to a dingy apartment in Delacroix by the bayou. When the Wilsons heard that Mom needed to scrape enough money in the budget to hire a baby-sitter for me and Melanie, they put a stop to her efforts immediately. The insisted that Mel and I would be happier spending the time my mom was working with them and their kids rather than a stranger. That was how the Wilsons and the Y/l/ns had ended up so tightly knit. While Sarah and Melanie had bonded as the older sisters and were often off doing their own thing, Sam and I caused havoc of our own in classic younger sibling fashion. By the time we were in high school, both parents called the other’s children their own.

When Paul and Darlene passed away, it was incredibly hard on all of us and it was equal when Mom had a fall and the doctors suggested she move into a facility. Sam, Sarah and I had worked hard to get her into one of the best nursing homes in the city and she hadn’t stopped raving about how much she loved it. Pulling into the parking lot was like muscle memory now, I never missed a weekend visit with her. This one was special because Melanie, her husband and brood of children had come too. I grabbed my visitor’s sticker at the front desk and made my way down the familiar hallways. The sound of laughter and cooing echoed out of my mom’s room, bringing a smile to my face.

I knocked on the door and heads turned, my nieces and nephews being the quickest. “Aunt Y/n!” I embraced Sophia and Max tightly, “The twin tornados! I missed you guys,” separating from them was difficult as they clung to me but I made it to Stephan, giving him a kiss on the cheek and doing the same to Mel, “You look hot, mama.” “I certainly don’t feel it,” she remarked as she cradled their newest addition, baby Alexandra, close to her chest, “I spend more hours of the day covered in glitter glue and spit up than you could imagine.” “You wear it all well,” I patted her shoulder before coming to my mother’s bedside and hugging her, “Hi, Mom.”

“Hi, sweetheart,” she kissed both of my cheeks and looked to the door, “Sarah and Sam couldn’t come?” “No, but they send their love. They had an appointment at the bank,” I set down my purse and pulled up a chair, “We’re trying to get approved for a small business loan.”

Glen took Alexandra from Mel so she could tend to the twins, “I wish we could help out, Y/n. I’ve looked at the budget over and-“ It warmed my heart that my brother-in-law cared so much about a problem that wasn’t his to bear. “Glen,” I held up a hand, “You guys are stretched thin enough. This isn’t me asking for charity, it’s our problem and Sam’s confidant we’ll find a fix.” “How does he have enough time to be a member of the Air Force, an Avenger and save the family business?” Mel asked.

“Well, the Avengers are kind of off doing their own thing right now from what I understand and he’s home for a little while from the Air Force,” I explained, “So his main job at the moment is to get us our funding and annoy the snot out of me while doing it.” After earning some giggles from Sophia and Max at the expression, Glen announced that they were going to go and grab lunch for everybody. My mom took my hand once it was just the two of us and I settled into my seat, “How are you, sweetheart?”

“Hanging in there,” I sighed, running a hand through my hair, “Tired, stressed, I smell like fish most of the time…We need this loan or else we’re going to have to sell the boat. You should’ve seen Sam’s face when Sarah told him…”

“I’m sorry, I know how much that boat means to you kids. I could’ve offered you the moon and stars and it still wouldn’t have been enough to get you off it.” I smiled at the memories of summer nights spent laying on the deck stargazing, dance parties on the stern and early mornings spent with Mr. Wilson teaching us how to fish. A childhood with so much sadness had also contained so many joys. To part with a tangible one killed me more than I’d let on to Sam.

Sensing that the topic was making me emotional, my mother was kind enough to change it. “How are things otherwise? Have you been getting out there?” I dropped my head back dramatically and groaned, “Mom…” “I’m just saying,” she dropped my hand and held up hers in surrender, “You should get out there, meet someone. There’s no shame in trying those online dating services. What’s the one…the…Tinder?” “Oh my gosh, Mom,” I buried my face in my hands and moved my fingers so she could only see my eyes, “Please stop talking.” “You know who I ran into the other day? Jack’s mom, from high school. She lives just down the next hallway, she says that he’s still single. You could get in touch with him.” “Y’know, for a woman who advocated for her daughters to lead such independent lives, you’re sure quick to try and marry us off,” I chuckled, “The second Mel started dating Glen you were practically booking the church.” “And I’m very proud of both my girls for being such strong young women,” she smiled proudly, “But finding love doesn’t mean losing your independence so long as you’re with the right man. I love that you’ve been helping out Sarah these last few years but honey…I see how lonely you are. In those big y/e/c eyes you think I still can’t read after all these years.” The y/e/c eyes in question started to fill with sadness at hearing my pain verbalized. It was true, I was lonely. More so than I would ever let on to anybody. I was a shy enough kid who only withdrew further after Dad passed away, that kind of introversion wasn’t one that you outgrew. But I’d given up the idea of finding someone to spend my life with a long time ago for a bevy of reasons.

“Sometimes it’s better to be alone, Mama,” I nodded as if to force myself to agree with my statement, “No chances of getting hurt…or hurting somebody.” “You couldn’t hurt somebody even if you tried,” my mom argued sweetly, “You couldn’t even kill spiders when you were a kid.” “And now there’s a Spiderman out there so I’m glad I didn’t,” I shot back with a laugh.

“I’m serious, honey,” she took my hand once again, “Don’t let your heart’s wounds keep you from finding someone who could help soothe them.”

I was convinced my mother was both a poet and a therapist at some point in her life, she gave advice in the most beautifully phrased way. And while I’d loved to have taken her words to heart, tell Mel to fix me up with one of Glen’s friends and put an end to my loneliness, I feared that I was just too broken to give love to someone.

————

I arrived back home late, shedding my boots and bag at the doors. I’d expected to hear a triumphant chorus of Sam shouting ‘WHO DA MAN?’ as he typically would when heroically proving me and Sarah wrong, but there was only silence. When I walked into the kitchen and saw their glum faces, it wasn’t hard to guess the outcome of the meeting. “You’re kidding me…” “Said that things had tightened up,” Sam said, leaning against one side of the island and taking a swig of his beer, “Had the balls to ask me for a picture afterwards.” I groaned and grabbed the beer bottle Sarah had extended to me, “Okay, we’re out of options. It’s time to move forward-“ “Don’t say it…” Sam tiredly warned.

“Someone has to, Sam. We can’t keep searching for solutions when the right one is sitting out on our dock,” I gestured to the window that looked out on the road we took each day to work.

Sarah set her beer down and held her hands up in surrender, “I’m not having this argument again tonight, I’m going to bed. If you’re gonna kill each other, do it quietly.” She left as me and Sam silently stared each other down, waiting for the other to speak. I was too frustrated to play the game, “What’s this really about?” “It’s about the damn boat and that you and Sarah are throwing in the towel too-“ “What,” I elongated the single syllable word, “Is this really about?” Sam set his drink down and rubbed his hands over his head before looking back up at me helplessly, “You guys were on your own for five years and you’ve done an amazing job. But now nothing’s working and I just…I just want to help because I couldn’t for so long.” It all clicked as to why Sam was being so insistent on trying to eliminate the whole matter. He was used to saving the day and finally meeting one that he couldn’t save was a wall he thought he could still find a way to run through. He’d been like that ever since we were kids, always trying to help the people he loved even when it was impossible. He had the biggest heart of anyone I’d ever met.

“I love you,” I set down my bottle and crossed the island to come next to him and wrap my arms around his shoulders, “But this may be one problem that the Falcon can’t swoop in and fix. The Avengers work hard, but a business graduate helping to run a struggling seafood business works harder,” I succeeded in getting him to crack a smile, “Believe me, I’ve run all the numbers and consulted with anyone who would listen. The boat’s gotta go.”

“Yeah, well, humor me and give me a little while longer.”

“Fine, a couple more days,” I grabbed my beer once again and clinked it against his, “But it’s not my fault if Sarah smacks you again.” Sam laughed, slung an arm around my neck and kissed my temple. “You coming up soon?”

“Yeah, I’ll be up in a few minutes,” I answered, watching as he finished his drink before leaving the kitchen and heading upstairs. Once I’d heard his bedroom door open and close, I exited out to the back porch. I took in the late night sounds of the bayou, the crickets chirping and the wind rustling trees had always soothed me. I wished they could touch what I was feeling right now, but the noise didn’t do a thing to drown out my worry. For the business I feared we may lose, for Sam as he ran himself ragged trying to help and for myself and what him and Sarah would think of me once I confessed the secret I’d kept from them for so long.

I held out my hand and watched as the blue energy flowed from my fingertips. Would Sam ever forgive me for not telling him I had powers? They had manifested when I was young, my parents said. I couldn’t remember a day where my body hadn’t produced a magical energy that when harnessed incorrectly could be destructive. It had been a sad day for my mother’s garden when I’d discovered that bit…According to her, she’d wanted to take me to a school for people like me run by a man named Charles Xavier but my father had said no immediately. He’d been so insistent on keeping my powers a secret that my mother said she’d only seen that type of fear in his eyes when he had a war flashback. So I was instructed to never show my powers to anyone under any circumstances and I’d done just that. I’d thought about revealing them in 2012 after the Battle of New York, but my dad’s fear rang in my ears. Three years later when Sam became an Avenger was when I began to feel guilty that I was keeping a secret from him. I’d wanted to join him and find somewhere where I didn’t feel so out of place, but I’d decided against it again. Now with their team so broken and Sam off with the Air Force, I’d finally gathered the courage to confide in him and Sarah. I should have done it six months ago, but I’d chickened out too many times. Tomorrow, I decided. Tomorrow was the day. But would they still see me the same way once I showed them? ————

The next morning, after dressing and running over what I wanted to say three times, I hesitantly headed downstairs to face the music. With there being nobody in the kitchen, I followed the sounds of the television to find Sarah and Sam staring at the screen intently. I stood to the side of the room and watched a suited man give a speech out front of a government building. “We need someone to inspire us again, someone who can be a symbol for all of us. So, on behalf of the Department of Defense and our Commander-in-Chief, it is with great honor that we announce here today that the United States of America has a new hero. Join me in welcoming your new Captain America.”

My jaw slackened as a man marched out in front of the gathered press, dressed in a variation of Steve Rogers’ patriotic uniform and carrying the iconic shield. The shield that had only weeks ago sat upstairs in Sam’s bedroom in a case. I dragged my gaze away from the screen to look at my best friend, hunched over in his seat with his eyes shut in sorrow. Sarah looked just as distraught, her eyes trained on her brother as well. We waited in silence until the breaking news broadcast switch back to regularly scheduled programming before Sarah switched the box off.

“I thought you said it was going to stay in the museum,” I finally spoke, my voice choked with emotion.

“It was supposed to,” Sam ground out, his grip on his own hands tightening. Without any warning, he rose from his seat and left the room. My instinct was to follow him and try to comfort him, but there was nothing I could say to ease the deep pain he was feeling. I wasn’t even sure I could form words that weren’t doused in raw shock. The two things I was sure of were that a) the government had fucked up royally and b) now was definitely not the time to tell Sam about my powers.

————

It was a few days later and Sam still hadn’t spoken much to Sarah and I about the situation. It was unnatural for Sam to suffer in silence especially around us, but we both gave him the space he needed.

I was taking laundry to AJ and Cass’ room and had to pass by Sam’s, surprised to see him packing a bag. “Thought you were sticking around.” “Something big came up,” he replied as he set a stack of t-shirts in his duffle bag, “I need to go check it out.” I leaned against his doorway, “Air Force big or Avengers big?” “The second one.” “And you’re going by yourself?” I asked with raised eyebrows.

Sam looked over his shoulder at me finally, “Don’t have anybody to else to call. Besides, I can handle myself.” I hummed in response before setting down the stack of laundry, an idea forming in my head that could solve both of our problems. I folded my hands together and dug my feet into the carpet, “What if you didn’t have to go by yourself?” He looked confused, “What are you talking about?” My folded hands began to make circles in the air as I struggled for the right words, “What if I came with you?” “What, like take your family to work day something?” Sam scoffed, “That’d be fun.” “I’m serious.” “Are you crazy? Of course you can’t come.” “Hear me out,” I looked to his bag and the pair of jeans he had next to fold, “Actually watch.” He folded his arms and waited for my demonstration. I took a deep breath and extended my hand, forcing my energy outwards to levitate the jeans. “Whoa!” Sam exclaimed as he watched me maneuver the clothing inside his duffle, “W-w-what…What was that?” I shrugged and pulled my hand back to my side, “The reason why you should take me.”

“How long have you been able to do that?” “Since I was a kid,” I moved out of the doorway and closed the door, the last thing I needed was AJ and Cass knowing their aunt could move things with her mind, “My parents told me never to tell anybody. I’ve thought about telling you for years since you’re used to this kind of thing but I was scared…Then you were gone and when you came back, life was moving non-stop and I lost my courage. I’m sorry I didn’t tell you sooner.” Sam stood with his jaw hung for a few seconds before shaking his head back into reality, “Why are you apologizing? You never had to tell me, but I’m glad you did,” he pointed a finger towards me, “But you’re still not going.” “What are you talking about? I’d be an asset to whatever it is you’re fighting! And I love you but c’mon bird boy, you may be able to fly but I can do it without any tech.” “Oh, so that’s how you wanna play?” Sam gestured between the two of us, “You think insulting me is the way to get me to let you come?” “Come on,” I moved to sit on his bed, “Tell me what the problem is and I’ll prove that I can help.” “Alright, alright,” Sam took a stance in front of me, “You wanted to hear the tea on my missions, I’ll spill it. There’s an online group called the Flag Smashers, their MO is to get the world back to the way it was during the last five years. My military contact, Torres, went undercover in Switzerland when they robbed a bank. Knocked him unconscious when he tried to fight back.” I balanced my elbows on my knees and tapped a finger against my lip, “So kind of a Robin Hood deal, right? Stealing things from the rich and giving it to the poor. In this case, the poor being those who never disappeared.” “Exactly, except the guy that knocked Torres out was strong. Too strong. I’m thinking they could be a part of-“ “The big three.” Sam’s neck snapped back, “How do you know about the big three?” I shrugged nonchalantly, “The little you do tell me about your avenging always ties back to either androids, aliens or wizards. Though I think you’re being a little dramatic with the term ‘wizard.’”

“Are you seriously gonna correct the guy who’s actually there doing the fighting?” “Are you seriously gonna deny yourself valuable help against either an alien or an android?”

Sam sighed, I was successfully backing him into a corner. “Can you even fight?”

Extending one hand, I levitated Sam and gently slammed his back into the ceiling before reversing course and lowering him onto the carpet. He moaned as he rolled over to face me, “Could’ve given me a concussion.” “Maybe that would knock some sense into your head,” I stood and gave him my hand to pull him up, “Sam, I know that I don’t have any experience but I am more than capable of defending myself. I want to actually do something with these powers instead of sitting on my ass. I’d rather do it with you than on my own. Please?” I watched the cogs in his mind turn through his eyes, I knew he was only fighting this hard because he wanted to keep me safe. But he was in way over his head if he thought it wasn’t worth taking me with. He accepted my hand and stood to his full height, “Pack a bag, we’re leaving for the air base in an hour.” I smiled and threw my arms around him, “Thank you, you won’t regret this.” “I’d better not,” he warned, his arms stayed straightened in displeasure of my enthusiasm, “If you take some stupid risk and put yourself in jeopardy, I’m putting your ass on a plane home.” Quick footsteps could be heard coming down the hallway until the door opened to reveal Sarah, “What was all that noise? It sounded like you were throwing each other into walls.” “Busy,” I quickly dismissed her, using my energy to shut the door in Sarah’s face from a distance.

“Um,” her muffled voice rang through, “What the hell was that?!”

--------

Taglist: (open)

#bucky barnes x reader #bucky barnes imagine #sam wilson x reader #sam wilson imagine #marvel imagine

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yaboy-robin · 3 years ago

Photo

(reposting due to tag issues)

I thought it would be fun to draw @ask-whitepearl-and-steven ‘s Steven and my personal gem oc Dolomite interacting! A small drabble to go with this under the cut

Steven hummed to himself while holding tight onto the fidgeting Sea Glass. The crystal gems thought perhaps Adventurine had fled into the nearby woods for the hiding space, so the gems were all camping here for a few days to look for her.

Currently, Steven had been told to stay put while the gems handled a noise that was likely to belong to a corrupted gem nearby. He knew he could fight, but would rather not fight if not necessary. So, he sat against the tree. Waiting for the gems to return.

Dolomite returned before the other gems, parting the brush with frustration - sticks in her perfect hair and scuffs over her suit. "I hate foliage."

"Dolomite!" Steven called to his room mate and.... friend? Dolomite was hard to read, being so quiet and staring at him quietly a lot. She said she knew White Diamond before he was.... this. But never said much about the before. Said that she preferred to keep those sorts of things private. Steven considered her a friend, even if she was hard to talk to sometimes. She had saved him so much, it was hard not to. "Are you okay?"

"You look like shit!" Sea Glass barked with a wide grin.

"Sea Glass!" Steven squawked, "where did you learn-"

"Amethyst!" Sea Glass grinned up at Steven diabolically.

"Of course," Steven sighed exasperatedly. Dolomite had brushed herself off at this point, thrown her cane to the side, and went to sit..... But instead twisted herself so she could sit upside down against a tree. Letting her legs fall forward to the ground in front of herself and folding her two sets of arms in front of her stomach.

Steven smiled slightly at the silliness of the formal gem sitting so oddly. "I wanna do that!" CG wrangled herself out of Steven's arms and sat next to Dolomite, maneuvering so she could sit on her head as well. But, she quickly fell over with an "oof!"

Dolomite took a deep breath. In through her mouth. Out through her nose. "What are you even doing?" Steven chuckled lightly as CG tried to maneuver herself to sit on her head again. Not like she had any blood, so it wouldn't hurt her to do so.

Dolomite's eyes flicked over to Steven, before speaking tiredly, "I'm letting the light in my form rush to my gem. It gives me a little more energy to deal with this.... foliage. It can be done standing but...." Dolomite shrugged, "I thought this would be comfortable," there was a pause and a wrinkling of her nose, "It isn't."

Steven laughed before pausing. Her gem, huh.... "Hey, Dolomite-" Steven looked her up and down. He'd never seen it before. Was it rude to ask? "Where is your gem?"

Dolomite blinked a moment. She let herself fall to the side, before writing her posture to be sitting up. She stared off into the trees. Steven sweated, seeing her distant expression. "I'm sorry- Is it rude to ask-"

"No." Dolomite interrupted, one arm moving to help CG sit on her head with support. She watched CG's happy smile for a moment as she sat oddly. "For most gems, where our gems are is a statement." She motioned with another arm, "You have a big heart, you're nurturing and kind-" She leaned forward and tapped his gem gently, "You favor thinking things through more than others. All gems wear them loudly and openly, to absorb light and to show how they may stand out from the thousands of other gems out there. But-" She looked away for a moment, "I..... Not even you have seen my gems."

"Yeah, I haven't," Steven tilted his head, "That's why I asked where-"

"I'm sorry." Dolomite shook her head, "I meant..... Not even White saw them. Before."

Oh. Steven swallowed. CG fell to the side again. She looked between the two before crawling back to Steven’s lap. Ignoring the serious conversation. "I kept it a secret. Keep it a secret." Dolomite did not meet Steven's eyes, looking distantly. "I don't know why. Maybe some part of me likes the air of mystery. Not even the Diamonds knew! Surely, that made me special. Made me stand out. Maybe that's what attracted her to me in the first place. My confidence to show that I was special. Like her. She never said why she kept me. She just.... did." Dolomite played with her hair for a moment. watching the white strands curl between her fingers. "Sometimes I think I was lucky. That she didn't make an example out of me. That she saw my bright-eyed loyalty to show her our new form, and eventually made me her right hand when Yellow made the position. Instead of making me her puppet."

"Dolomite, I-" Steven started, leaning forward a comforting hand. His brows furrowed a second. "Wait, 'our'?"

Dolomite smiled at Steven tiredly, “Steven- It thought you realized by now. The two eyes on one side, the four arms-” She chuckled before motioning to herself, “I’m a fusion.”

Steven stared at her in shock, before shouting so loud he would find he scared off the corrupted gem monster later-

“YOU’RE A WHAT?!”

#dolomite #sea glass #white diamond steven #ask-whitepearl-and-steven #racgwocs au

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tiedyemillenialbullshit · 3 years ago

Text

Nightmare

Pairing: Bucky Barnes x Female!Avenger Reader Word Count: 3,431 Summary: Your best friend finally comes to visit the compound after you join the Avengers. What starts out as a fun night out, quickly turns dire for you and Bucky. Warnings: Angst, Fluff, Feelings, Mentions of Alcohol and Drugs, PTSD/Nightmares, swearing

“AHHHH Y/N!!” You hear her before you see your best friend running towards you, not a care in the world that your entire team has also turned around to watch you two galavant towards each other like long lost sisters.

You catch Sarah in your arms and spin her around.

“Oh my god, I can’t believe you’re FINALLY HERE! And you’re early! Holy shit like I can’t believe you’re finally here in New York!! Let me introduce you to the team!” You grab her arm after she starts to show hesitance in meeting the Avengers all at once.

“Are you sure they have time? I don’t want to be a bother,” she says sheepishly.

“Oh my god Sarah, I talk about you all the time! They’re just as excited to meet you, come on.” You both walk towards the team still staring at you both near the entrance to the compound doing a quick debrief of a not-so-successful mission the day before.

“Guys, this is Sarah. Sarah this is-“ she cuts you off. “I know who you guys all are. It’s so nice to meet you! I’ll stay out of the way, I promise.” Everyone grins and introduces themselves to your best friend.

Nat smiles at you both, “On the contrary, you’re coming out with us tonight! No if’s, and’s or but’s”

Sarah seems to suddenly catch a second wind from her long flight and lets out a squeal of excitement.

You’re the newest to the “official” team, even though Steve and Fury had been trying to recruit you for years. You didn’t like the idea of the world knowing about your skill set and preferred to live a quiet life back in California. Ever since moving here, you’ve felt like maybe you weren’t home yet. Everyone was so nice and welcoming, but you missed your little house hidden in the outskirts of the National Parks in California. You missed the sun, the familiar smell of your patch of paradise and the general sense of room back home. Most importantly, you missed Sarah.

You were reluctant to invite her out to New York at first, but now that things seemed to be going smoothly, you sent for her via a car and private jet thanks to one Mr. Tony Stark. He was more than happy to help you out given your fresh and maybe sometimes bumpy arrival to the Avengers.

As everyone filed inside to break away before the evening festivities, Bucky caught your arm.

After holding you back for a second he said, “Hey, I can totally hang back tonight if you’d rather just be with Sarah and the team.”

You realize what he’s getting at. He also has some lack of feeling settled at the compound. It was something you bonded over when you first arrived. You both had similar pasts, even though they were at the same time lightyears apart.

“Buck, no. I think we’re all going out to Bleaker’s tonight! What’s a better way to get to know the team than bowling, beer, smoking inside, beer, old arcade games, more beer and maybe dancing?!”

Bucky gives you a quick glare out the corner of his eye before wrapping his metal arm around your shoulders to lead you inside after everyone.

“Fiiiiiiine, but I can’t promise I’ll behave.” You giggle, but suddenly feel a couple sets of eyes on you.

“And what do we have here?,” Tony asks with a smirk across his mouth. Sarah seems to be in the middle of an engaging conversation with Steve, so you don’t seem to have an easy out of this encounter. Bucky quickly drops his arm and steps a foot away from you.

“Uh, nothing. Y/N just seemed like maybe she wasn’t feeling well.”

“But I’m fine so here we are - have you seen Sam? Nat? Wanda? I told them we should be ready in a few hours and I jus-“

“Oh for Christ’s sake guys, your secret is safe with me,” Tony winks at you knowingly. You decide to take that as the end of the conversation and rush over to join Sarah.

“So! You have muscles.” Sarah says clearly at a loss of words looking at Steve in a tight shirt.

You and Bucky share a giggle, but pull Sarah away and save her from further embarrassment.

“What the fuck did I just say?” Sarah is about as red as a tomato as you drag her upstairs away from the awkward encounter. Steve looked a little flustered as well, which you file away in the back of your brain.

“Who cares! Let’s catch up and get ready for tonight.” Sarah is your best friend for a reason. Even though it had been 6 months since you last saw each other, it was like it was yesterday. You two spend the next few hours catching up, gossiping about each other’s families, friends, ex-boyfriends, etc.

“So! How are we doing in the boi department?” You turn around and face Sarah at the inquisitive tone in her question.

“What’s that supposed to mean? I’m good, I’m… I’m doing great, I mean yeah I’m good. WHY?” You’re stuttering and you don’t even care it’s obvious you’re blushing.

“Oh, you know. I mean, I’ve only recently met a few super soldiers, but I do think I can tell the there’s a spark between one and someone else.” Sarah so wants you to spill the tea but you promised Bucky you’d keep it quiet.

“Let’s just say things are developing and whatever you’d like to take from that you may.” You both launch into a giggle fit of her guessing and you denying certain aspects of Bucky Barnes.

When Wanda wanders into your room a few hours later, she starts laughing at what she sees. “You know you two are wearing like the same thing, right?” Exchanging confused looks at each other, you reply with a “AND?!”

Sam follows in with a smirk of his own. You’re bracing for his jokes but instead says “damn, OKAY! Everyone’s looking sharp tonight. Y/N, have you seen our bionic man around? Is he coming? He better come out tonight or I swear to…”

After Sam leaves to go find Bucky, the three of you wander down to find Nat and start the evening off with a shot or two. You aren’t much of a drinker, so one is enough for you. You much rather enjoy the company of your friend Mary Jane.

The team is getting silly with each other in the kitchen and quickly the room is filled with people yelling at each other to pregame harder, laughing when Nat’s little sister challenges Sam to a chugging contest and wins.

You feel a large hand at the small of your back. You can smell his cologne and know who it is immediately.

“Well don’t you look dashing tonight Sargent Barnes.” You lean in on impulse but stop yourself just as the girls turn around to see who you’re talking to.

“I was just going to say the same thing to you, sweets.” He mumbles in your ear before removing his hand and walking over to Sam.

The alcohol decides to hit you then, leaving you feeling empty that he’s not standing next to you anymore. Neither of you had wanted to have the “conversation” but you knew you were head over heels for him.

“CABS ARE HERE” screams Sam.

“Sam. For the love of God, stop watching Jersey Shore.” Natasha jokes to him.

At the same time Steve screams, “I understood that reference!” Eye rolls are exchanged as you all make your way outside.

The atmosphere is buzzing and you’re so excited to not just be out with your team, but to also have the only bit of family you had with you as well. You finally felt at home, at peace, and were ready for a fun night out.

Bleaker’s is one of those hole-in-the-wall dive bars that from the outside seems like a hard pass, but once you’re in, there’s no other place you’d rather spend a Saturday night. It’s true it started as a bowling alley in the 60’s. That still remains. What’s newer is the arcade in the back, where the old salon used to be. Jimmy bought the space next door, blew out the wall and filled it with arcade games that sometimes work and sometimes eat your money.

After years of being regular patrons, he knows your team well. The minute you walk in, he starts up all your favorite drinks.

“Ah! My best customers! I had a feeling I’d be seeing Earth’s mightiest heroes tonight.” You line up at the bar for whatever Jimmy decides you’re drinking tonight.

“Ah yes, two vodka on the rocks for my little Russian assassins. Sam here’s your vodka red bull which I don’t think you need, but here we are. Steve! Your drink of choice: an Old Style. Wanda, a cosmo for my favorite witch. And who do we have here, Y/N?”

You’re already both in hysterics at the old man behind the bar giving everybody a hard time. “Jimmy, this is my best friend Sarah. She’s visiting from California for a few days.”

“And whatever the lady wants can be put on my tab…” Steve butts in. Sarah immediately turns red but says “well in that case I’ll have vodka soda with lime please!”

Bucky has come up behind you and now you’re both laughing and watching the two of them stare at each other like no one else is in the room.

“Oh no, what did you do Y/N?”

“Let it play out, he’s not completely tripping over his words yet, maybe he’ll finally land a good girl.” You hush to Bucky.

Jimmy stares as well in amusement. “And you two? Your usual?”

“Yes’sir!” You shout over the growing music. Jimmy hands you each a jack and Diet Coke. You tell yourself it’s okay because it’s diet, but you know that’s a bunch of bullshit.

The other great thing about Bleaker’s? The dance floor downstairs. You always joke around that it seems like a nightclub that never closes in Amsterdam or something, but you’re serious. It could be 3 pm and sunny and you’d never know. It’s in the basement, it's always dark and the music is almost always too loud.

Usually that would gross you all out, but the energy tonight is pushing you all downstairs.

You reach back and grab Bucky’s hand not really caring who sees. It’s been months of sneaking around and either everyone knows and is playing it off like they don't or you’re really good at hiding it. Regardless, you’re over hiding. Maybe showing a little PDA tonight will get him out of his shell.

Sarah and Steve are no where in sight, assuming they’re ahead of you, you follow the team downstairs.

Minutes turn into hours. Everyone is dancing, laughing, sweating, screaming the lyrics to every song, and for a little while you can forget you’re a group of superheroes, and can just be normal 30-something year-olds.

You mostly dance with Bucky and quickly realize he’s a better dancer than you thought he would be. Those moves from the 1940’s must still be relevant in some way today, because the way he's grinding up on you and not caring if anyone sees just does something to you.

You work the room, finding Sarah, Wanda, Nat, even Steve for a song before you realize you don't see Bucky. You give it a few minutes thinking maybe he is in the bathroom. After 15 minutes though, you grab Steve’s attention and motion for him to check the bathroom while you check outside.

You race to the alley where you find Jimmy on a smoke break. “Hey Jimmy, have you seen Bucky? I can’t find him.”

“Oh yeah, doll, he took off in a cab about a half hour ago. Looked real flustered, but I didn’t want to press.”

Fuck. Fuck. Fuck. You thought you felt his mood shift about an hour ago, he was becoming stiff and quiet. You thought maybe he was just drinking a lot but now you’re realizing the loud music, strobe lights and base must have been triggering him.

“Ugh I’m such a bitch,” you huff as you send Steve a S.O.S text.

You: Hey, Jimmy said he just left. I'm sure he's heading home. I'm going to go find him.

Sire Captain Rogers: Go ahead. I think Sarah and I can find something to do while you find Buck. ;)

You: Yeah I’m sure you can.

You: BEHAVE. She’s my best friend.

Sire Captain Rogers: I know Y/N, don’t worry about us. Let me know when you find him.

You lock your phone and hop in a cab back to the compound.

No one is up or around when you enter through the front. The kitchen has been cleaned up, the dishes done. Probably thanks to THURSDAY, Tony’s beta bot for “cleaning up after you assholes trash the place.”

You smirk and head for the elevators. Heading straight to Bucky’s room, you can tell his light is on but something seems off. You don’t like to use your powers on friends or in the compound, but you close your eyes and reach out with your mind to find his aura. Your eyes snap open. You don’t sense him, you just see red.

Taking this as a good excuse to break into a friend’s room, you burst into the room to find it in disarray. Everything is toppled over, broken glass is on the floor, the bathroom light is on, but all you can see is his blood on the door and the floor. You’re panicked, trying to piece together what happened.

Again, you close your eyes and reach out for the familiar energy of Bucky. You find him in your room on the floor.

“What the fuck?,” you mumble and sprint up the stairs to your apartment. You shoot Steve a text on your way up.

You: Found him, looks like a bad one. I’ll let you know if I need you.

Sir Captain Rogers: Thanks Y/N. I’m just a call away, let me know if you need anything. Night.

Upon entering, you sense he’s in distress. His heart rate is elevated, he’s incredibly sweaty and is panting like a dog.

“Bucky? Buck, it’s me, it’s Y/N.”

Bucky stirs and jumps into a defensive standing position quicker than you can blink. You flip the lights on with a “BABE. Baaabe, it’s me. It’s okay, you’re safe. We’re in the compound. You had a nightmare.”

Bucky’s eyes are wide and alarmed, but you can tell the moment he recognizes you.

Rushing over to you, he takes you into a big hug. “Oh my god. What happened? Are you okay, did I hurt you?”

“No Bucky, no I just found you a minute ago. You had another bad one, what do you need me to do right now for you?”

Bucky stands back and rubs his swollen eyes. “I need to shower, can you help me?”

Typically, this is where it gets exciting, but you knew what he means. Water grounds him. He doesn’t feel like he’s falling in water. It helps him visualize the stress washing off of him.

You help him strip and get in the shower, but before you can even take his jeans off, he jumps in and pulls you in with him. You realize how desperate he is for whatever he’s feeling to pass and your heart sinks.

You’re both standing there, almost fully clothed holding each other. This is the worst you’ve seen him in a long time.

“I’m so sorry if I ruined your night, Y/N. The base sounded like the train, the lights looked like the machine they used on me, what the fuck.”

You aren’t sure what to do so you decide to sit on the ground and pull him down with you. You position yourself behind him so his back is in your chest. Even though he’s so much larger than you, he sinks down enough for you to reach over his shoulders and hold him.

“It’s okay Barnes, just breathe with me. You’re safe. You’re with me, and we’re home. Nobody is going to touch you. I’ve got you, you won’t fall.”

You take in deep breaths so he can match your breathing.

After about 45 minutes, the hot water is out in the tank. Bucky sits forward and turns towards you. You want him to lead right now, so you don’t say anything. Neither does he, but the look in his eyes are telling you something about tonight is different.

With a soft smile on your lips, you cup his cheek until he is really looking at you. “Hun, let’s go lay down, ya? Let me help get you dried off.” Bucky hates when you fuss over him, so when he doesn’t argue, you know to be extra gentle with him.

After getting him up and out of the shower, you think skin-to-skin contact doesn’t seem sexual right now, it feels intimate in a grounding sense, and you know that’s exactly what he needs right now. Bucky seems dazed, almost like he got hit too hard in the head. You yourself are of course a tad over-served, and are quickly realizing the adrenaline of this entire situation is rubbing off.

You get Bucky into bed and turn to make sure his phone is plugged in and that he has a glass of water, but he grabs your wrist before you can move away. “Just leave it, it’s fine.”

“Buck, just let me-“ he grabs your wrist harder.

“Y/N. Please just stay here. Please.”

The entire time you’ve been together, he’s done a lot of things but begging you for anything is not one of them. Suddenly the phone and whatever hell else you were doing doesn’t seem important anymore.

You climb into your usual spot next to him and decide maybe you’ll try to get him to open up. The moment the back of your head hits the pillow, Bucky is facing you. His pleading eyes seem like they want to tell you everything that’s going on in his head, but you know pushing him to talk will just make the nightmares come flooding back too soon.

Instead, you decide to lay on your back and pull him to lay on your chest.

“Just listen to my heart beat, Bucky.” You hear him take a deep breath and settle into your chest.

You start and stop yourself from trying to say something comforting. You’re terrified to say the wrong thing at such a crucial moment. Typically these bad episodes are reserved for a Steve house call. You realize as he’s settling into a comfortable position that he hasn’t asked you to call Steve yet. Bucky trusts you in a way you didn’t realize until now.

You don’t know when, but you start humming the first calming song that comes in your head.

I’ll be seeing you In all the old familiar places That this heart of mine embraces All day through

Bucky picks his head up to look at you. Oh fuck.

“Where did you hear that song?,” he says to you with shiny eyes.

“You sing it all the time when you’re concentrating. I looked it up and added it to my ‘bath time/relax’ playlist. I didn't know Billie Holliday was a favorite of yours."

Bucky was looking at you like maybe this was the first time he saw you, like really saw you. “My mom used to sing that around the house when she was missing my dad.”

“Oh I’m so sorry, I didn’t know. I can hum a diff-“ you’re cut off with the most searing kiss Bucky has ever given you. He’s crying when he pulls back to look at you again. “Will you keep singing it?”

In that small cafe The park across the way The children's carousel That chestnut tree, the wishing well

By the time you finish the second verse, he has physically relaxed in your arms. You continue rubbing your hand up and down his back and shoulder, stopping to play with his long hair every once in a while.

I'll be seeing you In every lovely summer's day In every thing that's light and gay I'll always think of you that way

“I forgot how much I love hearing this song sung around me.” Bucky whispers so quietly you almost miss it.

I'll find you in the morning sun And when the night is new I'll be looking at the moon But I'll be seeing you…

You stop your caressing when you feel him sit up on one arm.

He leans down to kiss you but stops short to whisper “I love you Y/N.” You kiss him back and wrap your arms around his shoulders, and when you say “I love you too, Bucky,” you’ve never been more sure of something in your life.

#bucky x reader #bucky barnes fanfiction #bucky barnes x reader #marvel fanfiction #bucky fluff #steve rogers

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suchalonelysunflower · 3 years ago

Text

Take Your Feelings, Put Them Into a Song (A.I)

Pairing: Ashton Irwin x Wallows! Fem! Reader

Requested: yes!

Summary: Y/N Sixx, bassist from the famous band Wallows, is helping 5SOS write their latest album CALM. If only she could keep her crush on the drummer under control…

Warnings: Fluff. Language. Some grammatical errors (English is not my first language, I’m sorry)

Word Count: 4.6 k

Author’s Note: IM BACK! Remember that Reblogs, Likes, Comments and Feedback are very important! You have no idea how much they help 💕 Hope you like it and Happy Reading 🦋🌻✨

My materialist // wanna be part of my tag list?

anon: Can you do a one-shot where the reader was born on 1996 and she’s the daughter of Nikki Sixx and Brandi Brandt and it’s the bassist and songwriter of Wallows (…) and she helps 5sos write songs for the album CALM and starts dating Ashton and the fans go nuts (in a good way) with shipping? There’s no drama like it was in EUH

It was another boring day in the studio and you would literally prefer to do anything else than to listen to Cole talk about the last date he had instead of working on your new song. But inspiration was lacking between you and your bandmates and you really had no other choice since you already took that time on the studio’s schedule.

One would believe that you would be used to dull times in the studio, having spent a lot of time on them while growing up with your parents, but boredom was a cruel crime inside your head and today your patience was running thin.

“Hey, peanut!” Dylan called your attention “Everything good there?”

You were laying on the sofa, looking at the ceiling for some kind of saving grace, but Dylan’s voice brought you back to your reality.

“Are we going to get something done today?” You asked with a sigh, with your eyes still glued to the ceiling “Cause we are really just wasting time by now and I don’t think Cole’s last fling will bring any kind of inspo into our little group”

“Hey!” Cole protested, earning a chuckle from Braeden.

“Whatever,” You said, already getting up from your spot “I’m going to take a walk”

You took a deep breath once you closed the door to your private room. You loved the guys, you really do, but sometimes people can be too much, especially people who you spend every single day and hour with.

Memories from the past year started to fill your mind and you smiled when thinking about how much your little band has grown. Wallows was now everywhere, you created a name for yourself without using your parent’s influence and you were so damn proud of that, yet when moments like these come around - the moments where you just need to breathe to escape the reality for just a while - you start to reflect on every choice you made and if they were the right ones.

It’s the overthinking that got you to write those first lyrics in the first place, the ones that were put into songs and now were, somehow, all over TikTok with thousands of people relating to them. So maybe, overthinking now might not be such a bad idea after all.

“It’s a terrible idea if you think about it for more than one minute, mate”

You stopped in your tracks when you heard that voice, thinking that maybe you were finally going crazy or someone could’ve read your mind. But it wasn’t until you heard someone else answer that you realized it was a conversation.

“Well, I don’t know what to do with it anymore!”

You turned your head to the left and smiled when you saw the little sign that said “5SOS now in session. DO NOT DISTURB” And realized that your other favorite boys were back in town.

Of course you ignored the sign and knocked on the door a couple of times before opening it shamelessly.

“Well, well, well…” You said with a teasing smile as you leaned over the door frame “If it isn’t my second favorite Aussie band”

The faces of two of the members of said band light up once they realize it was you, quickly getting up to wrap you in a hug.

“Mini Sixx!” Calum said, ruffling his hand through your hair “About time you came to visit us”

You pushed him and Luke away from you “And you should’ve told me you’re back from your break! I could’ve escaped Dylan and the other minions earlier”

“Rough session?” Luke asked, seating down and patting the place next to him for you to sit on.

“Oh, you have no idea”

You loved the 5sos guys, it was impossible not to. Ever since you met them at a label party in 2015 when you were introduced to them because you were the same age as half of the group, you knew that they were made to be on the stage.

It was easy to become their friend, given their welcoming attitude and easy-going smiles even before they found out who your parents were. It was nice for a change not to be Y/N Sixx, daughter of the famous bassist of Mötley Crüe and famous Playboy doll Brandi Brandt, for a moment and just be Y/N, a bassist that had a lot to give to the world. And with the boys you didn’t even have to try to be someone you were not, with them everything was just so… real.

Just like now, where you were allowed to complain about your lovely bandmates to them and they would complain just as well, with no judgment nor responsibilities, just three friends letting out some steam due to the stress of your careers.

“-And basically we don’t know what else to do with the song” Luke finished his rant on the missing piece of their new song for their next album.

“And you have the lyrics ready?”

“Yeah, me and my girl wrote it a few weeks ago but the melody is just…”

“It’s missing something” Calum finished for him with a sigh.

You hummed “Can I see it?”

The two Australians got to work, playing the song with the piano and the guitar and you came to the conclusion that they were right: there was something big missing.

“So it’s a ballad,” You said, thinking of ways to fix it.

“Technically yes, but when you play it like that it sounds incomplete and the lyrics won’t work with another type of rhythm” Luke sighed “We’ve been at it for days now.”

You stayed quiet for a while, reviewing the lyrics and melody more carefully now, analyzing the situation with different approaches but without getting anywhere. It was a beautiful song, it truly was, but it needed something else, something that could create a “boom” sensation for whoever was listening.

Something like…

“Hey guys, have you finished with the- Oh, Hey, Y/N/N!” Ashton said, opening the door and finding you with his bandmates in deep concentration.

Bingo.

“Uh, why are you smiling at me like that?” Ashton asked you with a chuckle, but you didn’t even address him as you turned to Luke and Calum.

“It needs drums”

“What?” The three men said in unison. You rolled your eyes and snatched the notes from Calum’s lap and started to sing the melody.

“Here!” You pointed out “In this part, before finishing the first chorus: I already made, already made that…” And then you started to make drum noises and movements with your arms for them to get the idea.

In a matter of seconds, Luke got up from his seat and walked towards you, taking the notes from you and reviewing them with new eyes, smiling as he got the idea.

“Ha!” He laughed loudly, “You’re a fucking genius!”

“Thank you,” You said with a smug smile as you, Calum and Luke started to discuss the arrangements.

“Wait, hold up” Ashton interrupted the chatter “Y/N, I appreciate you trying to help and no offense and all but I think this isn’t your place to just decide something like that,” He said, pointing to the three of you.

You rolled your eyes. You’ve dealt with stubborn people before, but Ashton did take a spot on your top three and you knew just how to handle him.

“Wow,” You said sarcastically with a teasing smile “One would think that by being half of the rhythm section you would have more… I don’t know, rhythm?”

Ashton crooked an eyebrow and you and you knew you had him in the bag “I just don’t think-”

“You don’t think?” You said, getting up from your chair and walking up to him to be almost chest to chest. You looked up to his eyes and challenged him “Or you just can’t handle the fact that I might’ve had a better idea than you”

You could see by the sparkle in his eyes that he has taken the challenge to heart. He took a step closer to you, almost pressing his body completely against yours, and smirked.

“Want me to prove you wrong, princess?” He teased but you didn’t back up.

“I’d like to see you try, darling”

Ashton’s smirk widened as he took a step back, turning his head towards Luke and Calum who were watching the scene with intrigued eyes and knowing smiles “Get your asses back in the recording booth”

He followed them as they walked into the big recording space they had, but not before sending you a wink seconds after he closed the door.

You were thankful he didn’t see you blush.

Once they were all set with their instruments - Calum on the keys, Luke on the guitar, and Ashton behind his drum set - You pressed the buttons of the console that would make it possible for you to hear them at the other side of the mirrored glass.

“Okay boys, show me what you got”

You became an official 5SOS songwriter after that day and even Ashton had to admit that you were adding so much more to the band lyrics and melodies since you started to work with them.

Every day you would find yourself walking towards their studio after your band’s session and you start to work wherever they left off. It was a simple dynamic that worked wonders for everyone and after every session, you would get even more inspired to write your own music for Wallows, so it was a win-win situation, not to mention, spending time with your new co-workers; especially a particular drummer that grew closer to you that you would’ve ever imagined.

When you first met the band you hit it off pretty quickly with Luke and Calum, them being the same age as you and having pretty much the same interests; then came Michael that shared a similar sense of humor with you and with whom you discussed videogames with. But Ashton was always the one that you consciously tried to not get too close to.

In all honesty, he intimidated you but not in a bad way. He was smart, talented, and super funny, not to mention also ridiculously handsome. But he was also stubborn, a little bit egotistical, and the only one that could keep up with you in a battle of wits, teasing, and sarcasm. And you knew that if you mixed that all together it might mean trouble, especially when he smiled at you like that.

Of course you had a crush on him, who wouldn’t? But the fact is that you know what it is like to date in the industry and having feelings for a member of another pretty famous band might bring some tension to the table, so it was safer to play the crushing card and just stay friends. Or at least that’s what you tell yourself every day since you started to see him regularly and spend more time with him than with any other of the two bands.

Speaking of…

“Earth to Y/N?” Called Braeden waving a hand in front of your face “Is anybody there?”

You blinked a few times before pushing his hand away with a scoff “Very funny, B. What’s up?”

“You spaced out again” Cole added, fidgeting with his drumsticks “Just when we were going to start complimenting you on that bass line you wrote the other day…”

You smiled as you threw a pillow at him that he was able to easily dodge “Sorry, I was just-”

“Thinking about a particular drummer again?” Dylan teased, to which Cole added.

“I knew it wouldn’t take long for you to fall in love with me”

You searched for other pillows and started to throw them at your band members, giggling as they started to throw them back at you and starting an improvised pillow fight in the middle of the recording booth.

“Hey, Y/N/N! I was wondering if you-” Ashton’s sentence was cut short as he opened the door and took in the scene that was in front of him.

You were so busy chasing Breaden with a pillow on each hand and a devilish smile that you didn’t even notice when the door opened or that Ashton was standing there, smiling at you with his arms crossed as you aimed at your bandmate's head.

“Oh look, peanut!” Dylan said teasingly “You knight in shiny armor is here to-” But before he could say anything more embarrassing, you threw a pillow directly at his face to shut him out.

You quickly turned your head to Ashton who was fairly amused by your battle skills and smiled at him.

“Hey!” You said breathlessly after chasing down the others.

“Hi,” He smiled back “Am I interrupting something or?”

“Nah, you’re good,” You said, throwing one last pillow at your three friends that stood in a corner blowing teasing kisses and puppy eyes at the two of you “These assholes and I are done for the day” You commented before said assholes started to pout and complain, but you were already out the door before they could say something embarrassing again.

“So…” Ashton trailed off, starting to walk alongside you with his hands in his front pockets.

“So,” You said, drifting your eyes from him and praying to the universe that he didn’t hear anything or else it would make the blush on your face even pinker “You needed me for something?”

You wanted to get the topic of work right there in the open as soon as possible, not wanting him to notice how nervous you got when you were alone with him. At least when you were talking about work you leveled the ground in some parts.

“Actually, I’m going home early today” He smiled softly “Luke and the guys are working on a love song that’s just way too happy and butterflies - in - your -stomach like and I didn’t think they needed me there if I can’t bring nothing to the table”

“You’re not a lovey-dovey feeling kinda guy?” You teased by bumping your arm with his, earning a “hey” from him “I actually get it, I’m not that kind of person either”

“It’s not like I don’t like it, it’s just that-”

“You process your emotions differently, and it’s easier to write those when you think of love in other stages and/or mixed with other complex emotions because-”

“Love is not just one-sided! Yes!” Ashton celebrated, amazed that you could understand what he was saying “I knew you would get it”

That comment made your cheeks heat up as you looked at him, all dimpled smiles and light chuckled as he looked at you with sparkly hazel eyes. Oh no…

“Well,” You said, breaking that little moment “If they are going to work on that all day then I guess I would head home, too. I don’t think I’ll be able to provide anything else either”

“Actually,” Ashton said as he stopped in the middle of the hall leading to the exit, making you stop as well and turn to him “I was wondering if you would want to get some coffee with me now that we are both free. Of course, if you really are free and have nothing else to do and want to actually drink coffee or tea… or maybe not and you’re not that type of person and-”

“Are you asking me out?”

Ashton stopped his rambling and looked at you with an incredulous smile and lightly blushed cheeks.

“I- well, yeah,” He said shyly “Yeah, I am”

You smiled and softly chuckled “Look at the famous drummer all nervous” You teasingly took a step closer to him, not knowing where this confidence was coming from, and he did the same “It’s just me, you know?”

“And that’s exactly the reason why”

“Do I make you nervous, darling?”

“Let’s say that if it were anyone else, I wouldn’t have rambled like that, princess”

You pressed your lips in a thin line and smiled as you looked away from him, blushing like a teenager on her first date.

“So…” You trailed off.

“So?”

“Lead the way”

From that moment both of your routines changed once again. Now you took time off the studio at least two times a week to go with Ashton on those small friendly dates as he took you out for coffee or just simple but meaningful talks.

Soon enough you lost all the doubts that made you nervous around him, seeing how easy it was to talk to him and how much you had in common in more aspects than just music. You became more comfortable around him and your level of teasing and playing grew alongside your relationship, not to mention the level of teasing and playing you received from your band members and the other 3 Aussies who joined in on all the fun.

You were used to blushing and dismissing comments about your - undeniable - crush on the drummer, but Ashton didn’t seem to be affected by them at all. On the contrary, Ashton played along and even seemed like he was enjoying it. Like in one particular occasion where you were working on a song together and Michael said:

“Oh my god, date her already!”

Ashton didn’t blink an eye before responding “I’m trying! But she just wants to focus on the harmonies”

And you’d be lying if you said that didn’t put a smile on your face.

Yet, you kept it all professional while being in the studio; no need to mix your personal lives with whatever was going on down there, that’s why those coffee runs were your favorites.

It was an unspoken rule between the two of you that “work-talk” was forever banned from those outings.

“So what are we going to talk about?” You asked him the first time you went into his favorite coffee shop.

“Us” He simply answered, unaware of the butterflies he just set in your stomach.

“Us?”

“Yeah, I want to get to know you better, princess. Who is Y/N Sixx?”

“Who is Ashton Irwin?”

“I asked first”

“I asked second” You countered

Ashton smiled widely “You think you’re clever…”

“It doesn’t matter what I think” You answered, casually sipping on your coffee “I know I’m clever just like I know you like me that way”

You were testing the waters back then, hiding the shaking of your knees under the table as you longed to know how he felt about it. But the way he smiled and how he blushed a little bit made all your fears go away.

“Yeah, that I do”

Your cheeks turned red whenever you reminisced about that moment - or any moment that you spent with Ashton for that matter - which gave you the perfect idea for a song.

“I don’t want to kill my time with somebody else…” You hummed to yourself as you wrote down what you think is the chorus to a new song.

You told Ashton that you were not the type to write silly love songs or very uplifting songs; but there was something in that memory, something in that feeling that you couldn't ignore or just let it be without doing something about it. So, you started to write it.

You couldn't separate the feeling from the art, after all, feelings were what led you to dedicate your life to music. People would say it was because of your parent’s influence but they had little to nothing to do with your decision. This was you, the authentical you writing whatever came to mind and then sharing it with the world and only a few people will get it in its entirety. And surely Ashton was one of them.

“Dadadada something, want you all to myself”

“Wacha doing there, princess?”

Speaking of the devil.

Ashton smiled at you as he hunched over the table you were working on, trying to peek at what you were writing. You lifted the notebook and pressed it against your chest faking offense as he giggled.

“Didn’t your mother taught you not to sneak up on people, darling?” You asked as he walked around your workspace and sat himself down on the chair next to you “Besides, you’re late. You were supposed to meet me here like half an hour ago!”

“Aww, sorry Sixx” Ashton pouted “But there were no chocolate chip cookies left in the shop so I had to go around town to get you some” He then put a bag of freshly made cookies on top of the table with a cup filled with coffee.

“You didn’t have to do that, you know?”

“Of course I did! You always only eat chocolate chips cookies in the afternoon”

He started to giggle again, ignoring the way you were looking at him “How did you know that?”

“C’mon, Y/N/N, every time we go for coffee you order two, one for the coffee and another one for the road. And every time we cater something you never touch anything but those cookies”

“I never knew you were so observant”

Ashton shrugged “I just pay attention if I like what I see,” He said nonchalantly with a wink, making you blush instantly, but you covered it up with an eye roll.

“God, you’re terrible” You scoffed.

“I’m honest!” You shook your head and went back to writing, but Ashton was not going to let that go so easily. “Look, how else could I know that you always put an extra bag of sugar in your coffee?”

“‘Cause I always drink the same thing,” You said without looking up from your notebook.

“Yeah, a mocha latte with extra chocolate drizzle and no foam. Honestly, how can you handle that much sugar?” You were about to answer but he caught you off. “But that’s not all you drink, whenever you have a bad day you always order a cup of mango and ginger tea because that’s your mother’s favorite drink and it helps you calm down. You also don’t want anyone to know that you’re having a bad day but the minute someone looks away your smile starts to flatter until you’re back in the conversation”

You stopped the writing completely as you turned to him, suddenly feeling how your heart started to jump all over your chest as he kept talking, eyes never leaving yours as he gave you a soft smile, almost as if he was remembering all those moments with you.

“You draw flowers on the corner of your notebooks whenever you feel bored. You love the sad songs on the radio and you know every single word to Lorde’s Melodrama, yet every time you have to choose a playlist you put 2000’s pop and R&B songs because it hypes you up. You hate awkward silences unless you are the one being quiet. You help Dylan dye his hair every time he asks you to because you would trust each other with your lives, you give Cole relationship advice because you care about him and he always appreciates your advice more than anyone’s and Braeden is your best friend because you always say that he is one of the few people that could make you laugh in a bad day and you have no idea how much I want to be included in that list”

“Ashton-”

“You write better with dim light, it helps you concentrate on your work. You say you don’t believe in astrology yet you check your horoscope every day. You want to make sure that everyone has a good time and feels included, that’s why you always make conversations with Micahel about games you never even heard before or let Luke braid your hair when he’s bored or how you switched topics when you noticed that Calum was not engaging as much in a conversation. You literally take care of everyone but you never let anyone take care of you, and when we do you get all shy and you blush as you say thank you and you have no idea how fucking adorable you look”

You sat there speechless as he spoke. You felt the back of your throat dry as you tried to find the right words to answer all of that.

It was too much. The fact that he knew all of that and how he said it like he was just talking about his favorite things in the world, it was just too much but at the same time, you want to hear him say that again.

A weird sense of joy and shyness came over you as he set his hazel eyes on yours. You gave him a small smile as you averted your gaze to the floor.

“Wow, I-” You started “I never thought someone noticed all that”

“How could I not?” You heard him say “You’re all I can think about and to say that I don’t notice you is like saying I don’t notice the sun in the sky or the stars at night. You’re the brightest light out there, Y/N, you shine everywhere you go”

You noticed how he pulled his chair closer to you and suddenly you felt how your chair started to slowly turn his way until you were face to face.

Ashton carefully placed his fingers under your chin and tilted your head until you were finally looking into his eyes again.

“There she is!” He smiled when he noticed your blushing cheeks and gleaming eyes.

“What do you mean when you say I’m all you think about?” You asked expectantly, curling your fingers nervously on top of your thighs.

Ashton chuckled. “Well, if you didn’t notice, I really fucking like you, Y/N”

You looked up at him, smiling with hopeful eyes and feeling as if a weight was lifted off your chest thanks to the joy you were experiencing while hearing those words.

“You do?”

“Unless you don’t like me back and I just spilled my feelings for nothing-” You smacked him playfully in the arm “Ouch! I’m kidding! Of course I like you! Fuck, Y/N I’ve been falling for years now and I thought I was being pretty obvious”

You laughed “I thought you were just playing!”

In an instant, Ashton pulled your chair closer and grabbed you by the hip, lifting you up and making you sit on his lap as he hugged you by the waist and you placed your arms around his neck.

“I’ve never been more serious in my life,” He said, “I’ll do anything to prove it”

“Well,” You said, pressing a kiss to his cheek and knocking your forehead to his “How about you help me finish this song and then you take me on a date? Cause I’ve been falling for you, too and I don’t want to waste any more time”

Ashton hummed as he nuzzled his nose against your cheek, kissing it softly as he murmured “Will I get to kiss my princess at midnight?”

“Maybe… or you can take your chances now if you’d like”

He smiled.

“I like those odds”

And just before you know it, he softly pressed his lips against yours; finally creating a happy beginning for the two of you.

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bookishofalder · 4 years ago

Text

Night Changes [Seven]

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

Scream.

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

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

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

“POOOOOEEEEEE!”

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

The droid repeated itself, slowly.

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

You were being attacked.

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

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

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

He never expected anything like what was about to happen.

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

“POOOOOEEEEEE!”

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

Were you dying? Dead?

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

“L-love you.”

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

Stars.

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

‘Stay with me.’

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

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

‘In the shower. Don’t leave, please.’

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

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

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

Maker.

Was it worth losing you for?

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

“M’fine,”

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

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

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

Even still, you were truly beautiful.

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

He’d wanted to tell you he loved you.

Instead, he broke your heart.

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

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

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

He was starting to feel dead inside.

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

“That’s not an answer.”

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

It was almost funny.

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

Burning never felt so good.

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

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

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

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

“O-okay, I’ll try.”

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

You were devastating. And you were his.

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

“You’ve done that before, yeah?”

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

Until that is, you saw what he was doing.

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

Poe felt himself grin, “Oh no!”

“Poe Dameron, you’re alive?”

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

“What happened to you?

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

“No, no, it wasn’t just me-“

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

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

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

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

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