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constilationn · 3 years

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Changing The Sheets || Part 2 🥀

A/N: Hey guys, I wrote a part two of this because I really like the direction it was going in. Anyway, I’m really really proud of this one and I loved writing it. Please do give any and all feedback, I love it. Much love guys.

Rating: T?

Warning: naughty words, that's about it.

Summary: You think you’re doing okay, Ashton shows up and you realise you might not be. But time can mend and you know that.

Part 1

At the end of three weeks, crisis mode ends for everyone but you. Calum stops coming by every day, understandable because he has his own life to live but it hurts all the same. Luke and Michael still come around occasionally but everything goes back to normal. You’ve accepted Ashton isn’t coming back anytime soon, you’ve accepted that he’s probably with her now and it’s time to move on but it still hurts. It hurts so much that your heart seemingly twists with every breath you take and a pain lingers in your gut that you can’t get rid of no matter how hard you try. Still, you think it might be time to fix the bedroom, throw out all of Ashton’s old stuff and start fresh. You think you can do that, think after weeks of shutting the world out, you can drag yourself down to the department store and buy replacements for all the stuff you broke. You can drag yourself out of bed, put your goddamn clothes on and start putting yourself back together like you promised you would.

And so you do.

Two days after changing the sheets for the first time, you kick the comforter back off and let it land on the floor. You drag yourself up, throw the pillows from the bed and strip the sheet from the mattress. It’s different now, this isn’t anger anymore or at least you don’t think it is, you think its acceptance, think it’s the determination to pick up the pieces of yourself and slot them back into place no matter what you have to do. Because you can’t stay in this apartment with all the things you shared and the shards of the promises he made to you. You can’t stay in this house with fragments of his cologne and toothbrush and his record collection that stares mockingly at you every time you sit on the couch and try to forget everything he destroyed when he left you. You think ... you think you need to make this place your own, fill it with your own love and your own light and everything you know you can be with him. Because you’ll be okay, you know you’ll be okay but it’ll take time, and you know that too.

The first thing you do when you finally force yourself away from the bedroom and away from the pile of sheets you’ve pulled from the cupboard, is grab a trash bag from the cupboard under the sink and head back into the bathroom. You don’t spare the broken glass another look as you sweep it into the bag, try not to touch the bristles of the toothbrush as you throw the fragments of the life you had before into the bag. In fact, you clear out every single thing in that room that belongs to him and make a note in your mind to buy your favourite bath salts and bath bombs and replace everything he said he loved with what you like because this is your home now, and you intend to make it a place filled with love instead of betrayal and regret.

The trash bag is full by the time you reach the closet in your bedroom, all traces of Ashton gone from the bathroom and the kitchen. You left the living room, can’t bring yourself to touch his record collection that he spent weeks organizing or the stack of books with his scribbled post it notes on top. You loved reading almost as much as he did. You’ve always been a sucker for getting lost in a story, mostly Jane Austen, and her talent for writing a romance you could only dream about. You’ve fantasied about meeting your Prince Charming on more than one occasion. You thought you’d found that when you’d met Ashton. Turns out you were wrong.

It takes you a minute. It takes you a minute because everything hits you, suddenly and all at once, and you have to stop yourself from falling back into the chaos you’re so determined to leave behind. You take a breath, shaking, then another and turn back into the bedroom without giving that stupid coffee table another glance. You might have to buy another one, fuck, you might have to refurnish your entire apartment until you can learn to love and breath in here again.

Crescent moons appear on your palms as you dig you nails into your skin in an attempt to stop your hands shaking. It feels stupid, like you should be able to shake and cry and scream all you want in your own apartment but you feel Ashton lingering in everything you do. You have to be strong, you have to be able to throw these things out without a second glance because you’ll destroy yourself if you keep them here for much longer. You’re torn, torn between keeping his things because you know you still love him, or getting rid of them because you know you have to move on. But there’s something in the pit of your stomach, something that feels suspiciously like hope, that he’ll realize his mistake and come back.

You tear his clothes off the hangars and stuff them into the trash bag without another thought.

You leave the stripped bed, bare pillows and duvet on the floor and drag the trash bag back through the apartment. You spare a glance to the clock that hangs in your kitchen and you’re surprised to see it’s almost eleven at night. It means you’ve spent the better part of three hours throwing every trace of Ashton out of your apartment without shedding a tear. It’s an accomplishment, of sorts, something to be proud of and you know in that moment, you’ll be able to make this apartment a beautiful home for yourself.

You grab the bag, pull the door just as someone pushes from the other side and you stumble, fall back and drop the bag as Calum stands on the other side of the door with his hand still on the door handle and a stunned expression on his face.

“Calum?” You scramble to shove Ashton’s stuff back into the trash bag as Calum watches with the ghost of a smirk on his lips. “What are you doing here?”

“Checking on you.” It’s the first time he’s been back in a few days and you weren’t expecting one of Ashton's best friends to open the door just as you were throwing out everything he owned. Calum’s voice is thick with amusement as he speaks. “What’re you doing?”

“I’m cleansing.” You fumble for the ties at the top of the trash bag and pull them tightly. “Getting my shit together.”

“Getting rid of shit, you mean.”

“No,” you sigh, run a hand through your hair and realizing you haven’t brushed it in the same breath you realise you probably smell awful. “I’m creating something.”

“You don’t have to get rid of his stuff right away, you know. Just like you don’t have to stop loving him right away.” Calum takes the bag from you, fingers gently brushing yours, and you know by your lack of resistance that he’s right. “Let me take this.” He pauses, glances at your face for any sign of discomfort. When he finds none and instead is met with a soft smile, he continues. “You’ll regret it if you dump this right now. Trust me.”

“I do,” you reply, relinquishing the bag. “I do trust you.” You pause, watching Calum as he smiles. A deep breath leaves your lips without you meaning it to and Calum raises an eyebrow like he knows there’s something you want to ask him. He waits, he’s patient because he knows how hard this is for you. “How is he?” You finally ask, voice no more than a breath.

“Luke says he’s heartbroken.”

“Luke? You haven’t seen him?”

Calum shakes his head. “I’m here for you, not him. He’s my best friend but I can’t support what he did.”

It takes a lot of strength for you not to cry then, and you blink back tears, sniffle and disguise it with a laugh as Calum wraps you in his arms. You almost deflate against him, like you can finally breath, like you’ve got the validation that Ashton is in the wrong, not you. “Thank you.” You whisper, fighting to keep your voice even. “Thank you.”

Calum pulls away after a minute, “Give me this shit,” he laughs, waiting as you grab your purse and jacket and lock the door. “You want me to drive you?”

“You don’t even know where I’m going.” You chuckle, following him down the stairs and outside to his car as you struggle to keep your gaze away from the trash bag he holds in his hand. You whole life is in there, well, your old life. You dig for your keys, push the thought away and head to your car. “I love you Cal, but we’re going different ways and you’re not the best driver.”

“I’m a great driver!” He insists as you duck into your car and give him a wave. He flips you off with a grin and you shake your head as you pull out of the lot ahead of Calum and take the turn to the department store.

You’re ready, you know you’re ready and you’ve already got a list in your head of what you can buy now that Ashton’s gone. You’ll fill the bathroom shelves with wicker baskets full of bath salts. You’ll buy new sheets, ones alive with colour and you’ll replace the cushion covers with the ones you wanted to get all along. You’ll buy plants and put them in every nook and cranny of your apartment and you’ll stock the fridge with your favourite food and forget how it used to be crammed with beer. It’s the next step for you, the next chapter.

But the thing is, you didn’t want to turn the page at all.

You pull into a space outside the store, grab a basket and head inside in high spirits because this is the first time you’ve felt confident with a decision since Ashton left. You dressed in something other than pajamas, you threw on some makeup and you hauled your ass out of the apartment because you’re so determined to make a life for yourself.

And you’re so confident in this decision, so unbelievably proud of yourself as you turn down the aisle to pick out your plants, that you think you might be having some sort of mental break when you see Ashton standing at the other end of aisle with a plant in hand.

And you freeze, your blood turns cold and you fucking freeze on the floor of that department store because every emotion that you’ve felt in the last few weeks hit you like a slap to the face and you fail to pick your jaw up off the floor, fail to turn around and leave despite the amount of fear and hate and adrenaline that’s racing through your veins. So, when he turns and meets your eyes and the plant he’s holding falls to the floor and the pot shatters, your heart fucking explodes.

And yet, you still can’t fucking move.

Your name on his lips for the first time in weeks makes your stomach turn and bile rise in your throat. Your heart races, thunders in your chest and you can hear blood pounding in your head as you try to figure out what to do before he reaches you. But you can’t leave now because he’s seen you and as much as you want to show him that he means nothing to you, you can’t bring yourself to destroy the last little piece of your relationship that has survive. So you take a breath, steady yourself because you refuse to be afraid of this anymore and turn to Ashton as he stops in front of you.

“Hi.” You wait for him to speak first and when he does, you’re surprised to find there’s anger in the pit of your stomach instead of the grief you expected to feel.

You cross your arms over your chest. “Hi.”

Ashton hesitates, “How are you?”

“How do you think?”

“I— “

“You what?” You’re aware you don’t give him the chance to finish but the rage that seems to have consumed you in the time that he’s walked from one end of the aisle to the other is the thing that guides you.

“I’m so sorry.”

You scoff, “I bet you are,” you glance down to the basket in his hands. “So what, you’re already shopping for your new place? For your new girl?”

You’re not sure Ashton’s eyes can widen anymore. He’s always known you were feisty, knew exactly what he was getting into but he’s never seen you like this, driven by blinding anger. “No. No, I... I’m staying with Luke. Thought I could get him something to say thank you.”

“Not staying at your new girls house then?” You haven’t unfolded your arms, eyes glaring at Ashton as he focuses on anything other than your face.

Ashton’s eyes fall to your shoes. “I haven’t seen her since that night.”

You laugh, short and bitter. “Don’t be shy, Ash. Since the night you fucked her.”

Ashton shakes his head, “Please, please let me explain.”

“What’s there to explain?” And despite yourself, you take a step closer to him. “You don’t love me anymore, remember.”

Ashton seems close to tears, frustration and exasperation driving him towards the edge. “Just give me a chance to explain, please.”

You’re silent for a moment watching Ashton as he watches you before you let go of your cart, raise an eyebrow and turn to leave the store. You’re not sure if Ashton picked up that you want him to follow but then you head into the parking lot and hear his footsteps behind you as he follows you to your car.

“Get in.” Is the only thing you say as you open the door to your car and watch Ashton slide into the passenger seat. He doesn’t have to say yes. All he does is wait.

🥀

A silver Honda passes you as you and Ashton sit side by side on the hood of the car. You’ve been here for seven minutes and twelve seconds, you know because you’ve been watching the seconds pass you by on the clock on the dashboard.

“We haven’t talked in a while.” You finally say, remembering every single might where you pushed the call button on Ashton’s contact on your phone.

“No,” Ashton replies, quiet as ever, “No we haven’t talked at all.”

The freeway’s almost empty but some traffic zooms by the two of you as you stare past Ashton and into the inky blue of the sky. It’s fourteen minutes past one, all you know is that you drove the freeway for two hours and then pulled over to the an emergency bay on the side of the road. But you don’t know much else because your head is spinning and Ashton is sitting the closet to you that he has in weeks.

You can’t avoid this forever, you suppose, which is a shame because you've done a good job trying.

So you sigh, slide off the hood of the car as you wipe your hands on your jeans. Ashton looks like he wants to follow but the glare you cast his way tells him to stay put. “This is how this is going to work. You’re going to answer every fucking question I ask you and I might not shove you in front of an oncoming vehicle.”

Ashton nods, barely breaths as he says “yes.” Probably because he doesn’t want to be thrown in front of a car, you suppose. But still, it’s a start.

“Who bought you your shit?” It’s no mystery to you that some of Ashton’s stuff disappeared from your apartment before you started to break everything. You couldn’t bring yourself to care back then. You do now, though.

“Luke and Michael.”

“You saw them a lot?”

“A bit, yeah.”

You nod, run your tongue over your teeth. “Calum?” Because despite what he said to you, your trust has been shattered and you want to see if Ashton will lie to you even now.

“He hasn’t returned my calls,” Ashton says quietly. “I don’t know.”

Okay, you think, two questions in and you don’t want to snap yourself in half. You take a few steps away from the car, then walk back and stare Ashton straight in the face as another car growls past.

“How’ve you been? Really? Don’t sugar coat it.”

Ashton gives a sad sort of smile as he fiddles with the bottom of his shirt. “Fucking...terrible. Maybe worse. Haven’t been getting out of bed a lot.”

“Good.” You snap, can’t stop yourself because he should hurt just as much as you did. He shouldn’t be able to get out of fucking bed either. You breathe in the crisp night air and try to calm yourself.

“How’ve you been?” You stop pacing across the gravel of the freeway and look up at him.

“You already asked me that. I already answered.” God, your voice is vicious, prowls across the cool night air and bites at him. But you feel satisfied, knowing you can give Ashton little cuts like this.

Ashton bites his lip and looks down. He looks out of breath, like he’s run miles and you can’t help but think god, because he deserves every bit of pain you felt. “I know. But it’s all I think about.”

Cry me a fucking river. You want to scream. You couldn’t handle one fucking day of this.

Fuck, you love him so much.

And even though he hasn’t talked over you once you can’t help but snap, “Interrupt me one more time and you can fucking walk home.” And then before you can stop yourself, before you can falter, “Now, why’d you do it?”

Ashton stops moving then, stops fiddling, stops breathing, so quickly that you’re almost worried. But then Ashton opens his mouth and you realise you’re not ready for this answer so you cover your fear with malice. “Don’t hesitate” you say, “Don’t fucking um and ah. And don’t bullshit me, don’t you fucking dare.”

“Okay.”

“So why’d you fucking do it, you selfish prick.” You say and when your voice finally cracks, Ashton looks away.

Good, you think, fucking let him hurt. Let him feel half of what I have.

“Baby— “

“Why did you fucking do it?” You yell, veering straight past the nickname because you can’t handle that right now, not on top of everything else. You voice makes Ashton’s head snap up. “Don’t fucking look away from me. Just tell me!” And then softer, because your voice has cracked and you can’t do this anymore, “Just say it. Please.”

Ashton nods, wipes the back of his hand over his eyes.

“Okay...okay, but you can’t...it’s not logic. It’s not.”

“Just say it.” Four cars go past before Ashton speaks again and you fight to keep yourself steady on your feet.

“I got scared,” he says finally and you’ve never heard Ashton’s voice so small. “I got scared and you didn’t. I got scared and I panicked and I drank too much and you were a million miles away and I fucked up.”

“Not enough,” you shake your head. “That’s not enough. You don’t get to fuck someone and tell me you don’t love me and get away with it in a single sentence. That’s not fucking good enough.”

Ashton slides from the hood of the car then and you’re so scared he’s going to end this conversation and get back in the car and leave you again. So, you say the first thing you can think of. “You wanted it too, though, didn’t you? You wanted me?” And, fuck, you can barely stomach how stupid your question sounds but you need to know. You need to know.

“Of course I wanted you.” Ashton says, polar opposite to the venom that coats your voice. “Of course I did.”

“Then what the fuck?” You ask angrily because you don’t understand, you don’t. “What the fuck was all of it for. I don’t understand.”

“We weren’t supposed to make it.” Ashton whispers and the distance you’ve put between the two of you, you quickly close because you can’t miss this. “We were twenty-one and twenty fucking three something and we weren’t supposed to make it. It wasn’t...it wasn’t supposed to go anywhere because I was leaving for tour and you wanted that degree and wanted to leave this stupid goddamn city. And we didn’t have a chance in hell of making it.”

Your inches away from him now.

“And then by some fucking miracle, we did make it.” Ashton says, “and then you’re talking about a future with a house and a family and fucking colour schemes and shit and it scared me. I was fucking scared and so out of my depth and I didn’t know what to do.”

“Why didn’t you tell me?” You croak out, “Why didn’t...you could’ve told me.”

Ashton snorts and makes the two of you seem impossibly closer. “Do you know what kind of person you are to let down?” He asks, “I couldn’t do that to you and so I got scared and I tried to avoid it and I fucked up.”

“So you went and stuck your dick in someone else?” You spit, “like that wasn’t going to raise anymore fucking issues, like that wasn’t going to cause a bit of a problem, like— “

“You asked me why.” Ashton says and his voice raises for the first time. “You asked me why. I’m not saying it makes sense but...that’s it.”

You thought knowing would make you feel better. You really did, but now you know just how mistaken you’ve been. “I should’ve known,” you say, face white, “I should’ve known, I was right there and I just...I did nothing.”

You could deal with not knowing, you realise, you could deal with that but now there’s a pressure on your chest saying it’s on you, saying it’s your fault. You think you might throw up and brace yourself against the hood of the car.

“It’s not your fault,” Ashton says from behind you and you’ve forgotten how much you miss his comfort, his safety. “It’ll never be your fault. You have to know that.”

“But it is.” You say, snapping back around to face Ashton. “Because you couldn’t tell me. You couldn’t tell me and you couldn’t touch me a and so you had to find someone else.” And it’s so overwhelming, so fucking overwhelming and it hits you all at once and you don’t realise Ashton holding you until your legs are about to give out.

You want to push him away, want to throw yourself off, want to barrel into traffic for all you care but you’re not strong enough. Because you’re so fucking tired and sad and so, so in love with the boy in front of you that it feels like if you let go of him you’ll forget how to breath.

“I hate you.” You sob but pull Ashton closer and you shudder as he kisses the top of your hair. “I love you. I can’t fucking do this.”

“I’m so sorry,” Ashton whispers. “I’m so so sorry. I’m sorry I did it and I’m sorry I hurt you and I’m so so sorry I fucked it all up.”

“No. Don’t do that. You don’t get to say sorry and have yourself feel better and leave me here like this. You don’t get to do that.”

“I’m— “

“I fucking love you,” You yell and somewhere, someone sounds their horn as they pass you and you kick up a cloud of dust. “God, I love you so much but I can’t fucking trust you and I hate you a lot but I still love you too. And I don’t understand how you can say you feel the same when you did all this.”

Ashton stops in his tracks then, freezes just like you did in the department store. “No one picked up the phone for me, you know that? No one picked up for the longest time and when Luke finally did, he gave me a fucking earful.” Ashton pauses, lowers his voice. “And I didn’t care.”

Everything in your head snaps quiet.

“What?”

“I didn’t care,” Ashton says, “because all I could think about was getting you back. I knocked on Luke’s door that first fucking night and said I want to go home.”

“But that can’t be true,” you whispered, “because you fucked someone else.”

You see the way that rips through Ashton, see the way it absolutely breaks him but you don’t feel satisfied. You just feel so, so tired.

“Yeah,” Ashton says and it’s the first time you’ve heard him own up to that. “Yeah and it only took me a fucking second to realise I’d made the biggest mistake of my life.”

You don’t say anything, watch the moon and the sky and a red car that growls past before you finally look back to Ashton.

“I don’t know what to do,” Ashton says. “But tell me what it is and I’ll fucking do it. I’ll do whatever you need, whatever you want. You’re so...” he trails off, bites his lip. “You’re so gorgeous, baby. You’re my favourite person in the world and I want to make you believe that again, if you’d let me.”

It’s too much, it’s all too much and suddenly all you need to do is go home and go to bed.

“Yeah. Well. I think you’ve done enough for today. Let’s go.” And the car is silent for the two hours back to the city.

You let Ashton walk you to the door for no other reason than you’re too tired to stop him. He casts a hopeful look at the door but you remember everything you’ve thrown out, what the apartment looks like now and the anger and emptiness still between those walls and you know you can’t let him in.

“You should go, Ash.” You say finally.

“Please,” is all he says. “Please, baby.” His voice is miserable and cracked and hoarse.

“I’ll call you.” You murmur. “I promise. I just...I just need a couple days.”

Ashton nods, presses a kiss to your cheek and leaves without another word.

You open the door and fall straight onto your bare bed. You’ve driven for hours, had the life drained out of you and all you need now is to sleep.

🥀

You get yourself a coffee the next morning, enjoy the sun for just a little while before you head back inside and sit and stare at your phone for a good couple of minutes. You know who to call, know what you want to say but you’re not sure if you’re ready for the conversation.

But you suppose that if you don’t do it now, you’ll have to do it later.

So, you pick up the phone, dial and it only takes a couple of seconds before Calum picks up on the other end.

“Hey,” you can already hear the concern in his voice, already know he’s straight back into panic mode. You can’t let it phase you though and so you take a breath and begin. “I need to ask you something, and I want you to tell me the truth.”

“Okay.”

“Do you think,” you start, closing your eyes. “Do you think it’s stupid or, I don’t know, weak if I take him back?”

Calum doesn’t say anything for a long time, although you can hear him drumming his fingernails on the table top.

“I think,” he says slowly, “that as long as you’re in this for you and not him...then I think forgiving him is the strongest thing you can do.”

“I haven’t forgiven him yet.” You mumble.

“I know.” He says, waits for you to speak again.

“Thank you,” you say because you need him to know how much he’s meant to you throughout this. “I do love you Cal, really.” And of course, it’s not in the same way you love Ashton, you doubt you’ll ever love someone the way you love Ashton, but you need him to know nonetheless.

“You know,” he pauses and when he speaks again you can hear his smile down the phone. “You changed the sheets, not me.”

You laugh and cry at the same time.

“I’ll talk to you later.” Calum murmurs gently. “Go get him.”

And so you do.

🥀

The first couple months are difficult to say the least.

You walk on eggshells for the first while, walk around each other and every touch, every brush of your skin against Ashton is uncertain. You’ll wake up in the middle of the night to Ashton breathing softly next to you and it’ll get too much and you’ll pad to the living room and sleep on the couch and wake to Ashton staring at you from the kitchen with guilt in the pit of your stomach.

When you come home and Ashton isn’t there, there’s an initial wave of nausea that hits you so hard you can’t do anything but sit and stare at the TV without turning it on. You know that he’ll be getting groceries or having a beer with the boys but all you’ll be able to think is that he’s back out with her and he won’t be coming back to you.

There are days when you think you can’t do it and nights when you can’t be in the same bed with him. The uncertainty lingers for a while but in the midst of that, there’s so much more. You start dating each other again and Ashton looks at you like you’re his whole world. You eat takeout and watch cheesy movies and take stupid photos and there are nights when you stay up until three in the morning and talking about everything that’s happened. There are nights when neither of you say anything either too, you don’t need to, because you know you’re going to be okay.

Everything mends, slowly. There comes a day when you don’t find broken bits of glass in the drawer in the bathroom. There comes a day when you’re on the couch with Ashton and you think that, somehow, it’s exactly how it used to be.

“Baby,” Ash murmurs one night, knowing that you’re okay with the nickname now. “You awake?”

You leave it for a second and then reply. “What’s up?”

“Just thinking.” Ashton says and you roll your eyes in the dark.

“Dangerous.” You grin into his chest. “What about?”

Ashton’s quiet for just a little too long before you realise this isn’t just going to be a goodnight.

“I just,” he says, “I lie here and I think about you. And I just...I just want you to know that there’s nowhere else I’d rather fall asleep than right here. That’s what I think every night before I go to sleep.” Ashton pulls you closer as you stay silent. “I just need you to know that I love you.” And he says it like it’s the easiest thing in the world.

“Yeah,” you murmur and you kiss his jaw and then his lips with heavy eyes. “I know. I love you too, if you hadn’t realized.”

Ashton seems happy with that but you stay awake a little longer. You brush your hand over his skin until you’re calm enough to fall asleep next to him, next to the love of your life. And when you wake the next morning, it’s to the smell of Ashton cooking breakfast in the kitchen.

Everything mends, slowly.

The two of you mend last, but you think that’s okay. Because back before this, back when it all began, you were the one to change the sheets. And, you suppose, if changing the sheets wasn’t so bad, the rest won’t be either.

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constilationn · 3 years

Text

Changing The Sheets || Part 1🥀

A/N: Guys, I’m going through some shit so I just wanted to absolutely break a character. I hope you like it, I haven’t written in a while but this has really helped. I’d love any and all feedback, much love guys.

Rating: T?

Warning: naughty words, reader is fucking heartbroken :)

Summary: 5SOS have caught my attention so here’s a little bit. It’s a rocky start and its 3k of angst so my bad. More good stuff to come in the future tho !!

There’s a tightness in your chest, one that’s been there for days. It feels like something’s squeezing your stomach, like you might throw up and faint at the same time. There are tears in your eyes now, you’re sure of it because you’re never far from tears these days and you’re always waiting, just waiting, for something to push you over the edge.

You glance at the side of the bed, his side of the bed, where the pillows lay untouched. You haven’t changed the sheets since that morning, don’t imagine you will until you can rid yourself of this pain. And that may not be for a long time.

Because every inch of this apartment, every single thing in here holds memories. It holds the promises he made and the love he swore to you and you want to break everything; want to smash everything he owns to pieces to make up for the way he shattered your entire life. You still can’t bear to think about it, still can’t force yourself to confront it because there’s a naive little part of your brain that demands hope and saves you from yourself almost every day. It’s this little piece of your brain that stops you from changing the sheets and burning the photo albums and tearing the love from this place just like he did.

And you think that might be what hurts the most.

Not the lies, not the broken promises and the destruction of everything you’ve ever believed in. No, what hurts most is the way you stare at that door and you wait for him to walk in. It doesn’t matter how angry you are, how much you want to tear the apartment apart and how torn to pieces you are. None of that matters when you look at that door and wait for him. Even though you know he’s with her.

Because, once upon a time, he was your safe place. He was the person you ran to, the person you trusted because it was him. It was him. And it’s always been you and him. Right from the start.

You lay back down then, bury yourself under the pile of blankets and pillows and try to forget how he smells, how he smelt, and fight off the urge to change the sheets or move the room around or take the mug he left on the nightstand and smash it. Because you can’t. Because it’s all him and he should be here with you and you shouldn’t be staring at a goddamn coffee cup wondering when he decided he didn’t love you anymore. Because he must’ve, right? He must’ve decided not to love you anymore and to leave you and leave a note on the counter with his apologies and his initials that don’t mean shit because nothing ever meant anything if he didn’t love you like he promised he did. And so where does that leave you? Where does that leave you?

You’ve taken to sleeping more often, to staying in bed until night and wandering the empty apartment in the dim light of the moon above the window and in the midst of the chaos of your mind that tells you every shadow is him. When you do sleep, you sleep to dream about him because that’s what you’ve always done when you feel alone and that’s when he tells you that everything will be just fine because he loves you. And that should be enough. That has always been enough.

Until it wasn’t anymore.

You never though falling in love would destroy you. You never thought you’d wander the halls like a ghost, stranded because everything you ever loved was gone. Because he meant everything to you and he’s not here anymore. You know people insist that not all those who wander are lost but, somehow, you don’t think you’re ever going to find your way back.

Because it’s been years since he walked through that door. It’s been a lifetime.

And it feels like, it feels like you’re drowning, struggling to breath and you’re trying to make it to the surface in time but you know you won’t. You try anyway because it’s instinct to fight for your survival. So, it feels like you’re swimming up but the surface keeps getting further away. And that’s when you start to sink, when you realise you can’t make it. You start to sink because you know there’s no point trying; so what’s left to do beside stop and sink and watch the water pass you by and pretend you’re not dying. And pretend Ashton didn’t leave.

Ashton. It’s the first time you’ve thought about his name. You thought if you ignored it, ignored the fact that he existed with someone else now, that it would make it better. Because if he doesn’t exist with you then he doesn’t exist with her and that means, well that means you have a reason to try to start living again. The only problem of course, it that he does exist with her now, he left you behind five days again and you know that no amount of pretending is going to change that. So the question is, what do you do next? What do you do when you feel like there’s a tonne of bricks resting on your chest and even in the most crowded room you feel alone. What are the next steps for someone that can no longer think of a reason to get out of bed.

You think the silence makes it worse. You think the quiet that makes you want to curl up in a ball and die is what makes it worse. Because there was always music in here, there was always laughter and bad TV and shouting over card games and now that’s gone. It’s all gone and you can’t get it back because you don’t know how because you don’t know what you did to make him stop loving you. You don’t know what you’ve done wrong or what you’ve done to deserve this. There’s a lot you don’t know, there’s a lot of white noise and blank stares and unfulfilled promises. But what really plays on your mind, what really makes you think is why do you still love him.

Why do you still love him?

Because he’s not worthy of it, he’s not worthy of being in your dreams and he has no right. He has no right to stay on your mind like this and drive you crazy. Except he is. He makes you want to pull your hair our and scream and cry and curl up and never see the sun rise again because he was it for you and why weren’t you the same for him? Why weren’t you the same for him? Why weren’t you enough?

It’s then you kick the duvet away from you and onto the floor. Its then you kick the pillows from his side of the bed to the floor because even now, even with this rage that seems to be substituting the painful grief in the pit of your stomach, you still won’t touch those pillows.

And so you take a breath, take another, and reach across for the mug that sits mockingly on the nightstand. You touch it with your finger like it might explode. When it doesn’t, you pick it up and turn it in your hand. When you see the message engraved on the handle, the message you chose because it was a goddamn birthday present, you hurl it at the wall and watch it shatter into pieces. And for the first time in those five days, you don’t want to cry anymore. You don’t want to dream anymore. You just want to take everything he owns and snap it in half.

You decide on the bathroom first, tear apart the cabinets and the drawers and snap his toothbrush and throw his aftershave at the wall and smash his cologne in the sink. And maybe this is how you drown out your pain, maybe this is how you try to forget you weren’t enough for him and you’ve never been good enough for anyone. Maybe this anger, this rage that seems to fill every inch of your body won’t ever go away and you’ll never have to feel broken again.

You’re making your way to the kitchen when a knock on the door stops you. You freeze and then your mind catches up and that rage, that rage you were convinced would save you is gone and you feel smaller than you ever have before. The door seems miles away, seems like you could never reach it and there are already tears in your eyes because what if that’s him. What if he knows he made a mistake and what if its him. You want him to walk through that door, your door, more than you’ve ever wanted anything else and wonder what’s taking him so long. Is he composing himself like you are? Is he thinking about you and the mistake he made? Except. Except Ashton wouldn’t knock and her certainly wouldn’t knock again and wait for you to answer the door. So If it’s not him, if it’s not him then who is it? Who is it and why would they do this because your legs are shaking and all at once your tears are falling and you’re on the floor with your failed rage and your broken expectation as Calum walks through the door,

He says your name, twice then a third time before he’s by your side and you’re sobbing into his chest as he pulls you in and keeps you safe because Ashton couldn’t. The door’s still open, a bag of groceries forgotten at the threshold and Calum won’t let go of you and doesn’t intend to until he can feel you stop trembling.

“I’m sorry.” You’re not even sure it’s a whisper because your voice is so quiet as Calum holds you. “I’m sorry.”

“No,” he murmurs, “Don’t be. Please don’t be.” You want to melt back into his touch, pretend he feels as safe as Ashton does but that door, that fucking door, is still open and the bathroom is destroyed and if you don’t stand up now, you might never stand up again.

You don’t admit to needing Calum’s help, nor do you acknowledge that you’re leaning heavily on him and that crushing weight is back on your chest and tears are back in your eyes and the image of her and him is back in your mind like it never left.

It takes you five minutes, maybe longer, until you manage to stop crying. Calum sits across from you, trying to keep his eyes off the bathroom beyond the open door or the sheets on the floor half dragged through the apartment. When he speaks, after he’s sure you’re not going to, he has to fight to keep his voice steady. “Why didn’t you tell me?”

“I didn’t want you to worry.” Is the first thing that comes out of your mouth even though you know it’s a lie. You clear your throat and add, “I thought I could be okay.”

Calum holds back a sigh, you can see by the way his fists clench slightly by his sides because no matter what he says, you know how to read him.

You thought you knew how to read Ashton, too.

“You could’ve come to me.” Calum murmurs because, for some reason neither of you can seem to raise your voice above a whisper. “You can always come to me.”

“I know.” Your quick to reply, quick to assure him that it wasn't his fault because you know he’ll blame himself for not seeing this sooner. There’s a reason you didn’t go to him, though. There’s a reason you didn’t go to anyone. It’s because Ashton is your home, because it’s always been the two of you and everyone knows that. Because Ashton gave you a reason for existing and took it away, just like that. Because you didn’t quite know how to go on living if your very reason for it was gone. “I just… I couldn’t.” Calum nods even though you know he doesn’t understand. But he waits anyway, waits for you to talk or to not talk, and lets you know that he’s not going anywhere.

“It’s funny,” you sniff finally, wiping your eyes even though you know there’s no world in which you can keep your tears at bay. “It’s funny. Because he’s my home. Because I told him about everything that destroyed me and he threw it straight back in my face.” You chuckle but there’s no humour to it and neither of you pretend it’s anything but bitter. “You know, it’s like telling someone…It’s like telling someone: tell me every terrible thing you ever did and let me love you anyway.” You shrug, tears falling fast. “And he did.” you nod, running your tongue along your teeth before you sigh. “And I still love him.”

Calum watches silently as you pull the sleeves of your hoody down over your wrists and wipe your tears away. “I know you do.” Is all he says. It’s all he has to say, really, because it’s all that matter at the moment.

“I love him, Cal.” You nod. “But how are you supposed to survive if the person you love, the entire reason you want to keep existing, decides they don’t love you anymore?” you lift your head to meet his eyes, like you expect him to have all the answers you’ve been waiting for. “How am I supposed to do this without him?” you whisper.

Calum shakes his head and his heart breaks a little because he can’t give you the answers that you need. “I don’t know.” He murmurs, “I don’t know.”

He’s barely finished speaking when you start again, driven by some sort of maddening grief that makes you sound insane. “You know, I see shadows in here. In this place, in our home and I think its him. That’s how badly I want him here, I’m looking at fucking shadows thinking they’re Ashton.” You’re standing up then, running a hand through your hair and trying to ignore how much this hurts, how much this physically hurts you and how it feels like your heart has genuinely split in two. “I don’t know what I did, Cal. I don’t know why I’m never enough.”

“Don’t.” he shakes his head. “Don’t. You are enough. You’ve always been enough. He knows that.”

“If he knows that then why isn’t he here! Why is he with her! Why? Why…” and it happens again before you can stop it, the pain becomes too much and you sink to your knees sobbing and clutching your stomach because this is too much. It’s all too much.

Calum is back at your side again, catches you before you can fall in the way that Ashton used to before he decided he didn’t love you. He doesn’t say anything, he doesn’t know what to say. He wants to beg you to get through this, beg you to stay strong like you’ve always been. He wants to see your smile back on your face and the way you have the ability to light up he room because when your happy it’s infectious. But most of all he wants to drag Ashton here by the collar of his shirt and force him to see you like this.

Calum doesn’t know why he did it, why he slept with another girl and told you he didn’t love you and disappeared without a trace. He doesn’t know why he’s destroyed such a beautiful soul and he doesn’t know where he is or why he hasn’t come back yet. He does know one thing though, at the base of it all. He does know that Ashton loves you and that’s why there’s hope buried beneath the layers of anger. Because he’d never leave you like this. Because you have become his reason for existing.

🥀

You know its morning when you open your eyes because there’s this golden light filtering through the blinds that you haven’t woken to for days. You know it’s morning because, for the first time since he left, you slept through the night without dreaming.

When you force yourself out of bed, you notice a note left on your nightstand in Calum's scrawl that offers apologies and the promise that he’ll be back later after he’s gone home to check on Duke. You don’t mind, even though your head is heavy and your eyes are swollen from tears that don’t seem to stop, you know that you’re putting yourself back together.

You know it’ll take longer to fix yourself than to fix the bathroom or the bedroom. You know it’ll take longer to put yourself back together and find yourself again. You know you’ll fix last.

But for now, you can change the sheets. And if you can change the sheets, then you can do the rest.

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constilationn · 3 years

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Ready to Run was…wow. That was really really good. It felt real too. I’m glad you showed how manipulated a victim could become. I feel like it’s always so easy to be like “why aren’t you leaving him” but we forget that it’s not just physical abuse and it’s not a thing that happens overnight.

Oh thank you!!! I really wasn’t sure about it but I’m so glad people seem to be enjoying it!! Please do come to me with questions or requests or whatever you’d like. Happy reading 💓

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constilationn · 3 years

Text

Ready To Run 🌬

A/N: So I got this request at the beginning of the week and I've been working on it since then. I’m really not sure about this one guys, it’s a bit of a different style and it’s 6000 words because it took on a life of its own. (Sorry not Sorry) Anway, I’d love some feedback - please - but enjoy guys!

Rating: M

Warnings: Naughty words, sensitive subject - abuisve relationship

Summary: This was the request I had: Reader is abused by parents or boyfriend and runs straight into the arms of Poe Dameron.

@jacquelineprins this one’s for you 💓

You’re lost as you walk, turning the corner from the hanger and starting back towards the quarters in a quiet sort of daze because your arm’s throbbing underneath your jacket and you’re sure there’s blood by now, there must be. You want to look, you do, you want to see exactly what’s he done this time, what you’ll have to cover up from everyone else but you can’t bring yourself to lift the cuff of your jacket beyond the upper part of your wrist. You don’t want to make it real again because there’s a part of you that pretends it’s a dream whenever it happens, you can deal with it that way. You’re strong, of course you are, but there’s something about this that you just can’t handle. Either way, you have to pull up your sleeve and look. You have to.

You shouldn’t be surprised when you lift your sleeve, but you blanch anyway because your arm is red and sticky and the cuts go deep, almost like lashes of a whip. Your mind turns and turns and you’re wondering how you let this happen, because you were never the type of person to let someone else walk all over you, so what went wrong?

It’s your name on his lips that pulls you back, soft as he catches up to you in the hall, and you yank the sleeve of your jacket back down over your arm because he can’t see this, not now.

Poe Dameron catches your arm, pulls you closer to him and you try not to wince, letting a hiss of pain out between your teeth disguised by a smile as he grins back at you. He doesn’t know there’s anything wrong, he won’t know. No one will. It’s one of the policies, one of the stipulations of this relationship you’ve found yourself trapped in. No one finds out, not even Poe.

“Hey.” You make the first move, have to, so you don’t seem suspiciously quiet or upset or whatever it is you’re feeling right now because as it stands, you don’t even know. But you never do when it comes to this.

“Hey sweetheart,” sweetheart, that’ll come up later, you’re sure of it. It has before and for no good reason. Poe Dameron is a flirt, it’s a universally known fact and even if he felt anything towards you, the entire base knows your taken. It’s not an option anymore either because it’s like your property now. You live with him, with Charlie, share your quarters, share missions, share lives. Although it’s not really sharing, is it? Not when he acts like he owns you, parades you around like a prize and hurts you when you misbehave. It’s like you’re a dog, that’s probably the best way to describe it, rewarded when your good and punished when your bad. It’s hysterical, in another life you’d laugh and in another life still you’d punch the living daylights out of Charlie and tell him to never treat you like that again. But it’s not an option, not this time, and you’ve been beaten down so many times that you don’t stand a chance. Not anymore.

Poe clears his throat, polite just like always as he interrupts your stream of thoughts. “Can you do me a favor?”

Anything, you want to scream, I’ll do anything for you if you can get me out of here, away from this life. But you square your shoulders instead and ignore the wildness of your thoughts, muster another smile and paint into onto your face so it stays there even when he leaves. “Sure.”

You’re expecting him to say something about engineering, about fixing his ship just like always. You’re not expecting him to ask you to accompany him on a mission and you’re definitely not expecting him to tell you that you leave tonight. You know you’re staring at him like he’s got ten heads and you know you need to stop but you can’t because he’s just offered you an escape, he’s offered you an out and maybe, just maybe, this can be your salvation. This can be how you survive.

You can’t stop the grin that breaks across you face, but then again you don’t really try to. You resist the urge to jump into his arms because this is it, he’s given you a perfect chance to escape and, god, Poe Dameron has never looked so beautiful. “Please. Yes. I’d love to.” The words tumble from your lips and your grinning like an idiot but you don’t care, not anymore. You hug him then, you can’t help it, and the warmth you feel in his arms has nothing on Charlie who only ever lays a hand on you to hurt you.

“It’s nothing exciting, sweetheart,” Poe chuckles but he looks so fucking happy that you can’t bring yourself to care about the repeat of the nickname and you don’t let go of him, you can’t, not yet. “We’ll just be doing some surveillance, maybe blowing some stuff up.”

You nod, practically vibrating on the spot with this newfound energy. Your brain is going and going and going with endless possibilities and chances and opportunities. You want to kiss him, and not for the first time, but none of that matters at the moment. Nothing matters except you and Poe. Maybe you can tell him, maybe you can make a confession and beg him for help. He’s a good guy, he’s you’re friend so what’s stopping you? What’s fucking stopping you?

“Hey,” Fuck, does that voice make you freeze. It’s not a malicious one but accusation drips from Charlie’s tone and you feel your entire body just stop. Poe bristles next to you, crossing his arms because he doesn’t like the man, no one does and a lot of them question what a nice girl like you is doing with an arse like that. You couldn’t tell them even if you wanted to. You know what the punishment is for that.

“Charlie.” Your voice is weak, a pathetic attempt to seem excited and Poe quirks an eyebrow but says nothing. “Hey.”

You swear your heart stops when he walks towards you and it’s like this long, horrible drawn out thing until he reaches your side and Poe dutifully steps a little to the left so Charlie can throw an arm around your shoulder. It’s only been a few hours since you’ve seen him, since you landed back at the hangar after he’d decided to take his anger out on your arm. It’s only been a few hours of peace, of bliss, and you thought that maybe it could be enough. You’re wrong.

“I’ll see you later, sweetheart.” You try not to wince as Poe gave Charlie a nod and turns away. You let your eyes close as Charlie waits for Poe’s footsteps to fade completely. You know it’s coming so it shouldn’t surprise you as much as it does when Charlie rounds on you in the middle of the hall and lands a heavy slap on your cheek.

“Sweetheart?” It’s the way he says it, the way he relishes the word on his tongue and the look in his eye when you shrink away from him because he knows he’s got you and you can’t get away from him or his accusations because he was right there when Poe said it. “Sweetheart.” He pauses, considers and then nods with a definitive air, watching you with sharp eyes. You have no idea what move you’re supposed to make now, you don’t know what the right answer is.

You do know that when he takes hold of your arm, shakes it and drags you down the hallway to the quarters, you’d rather be anywhere else but here.

Charlie shoves the door open, let’s your arm go and pushes you into the room so roughly that you stumble and have to catch yourself against the metal foot of the bed. There are tears on your cheeks, falling to your lips and there’s salt and blood and you’re losing your bearings just a little. “Fuck.” It’s a weak word, falls from your lips as your arm hits the bed. Charlie smirks, like he’s pleased with his handiwork but you can’t fight him, can’t say a word. You know that. And so does he.

“Charlie.” You start but it’s not enough to get rid of that glare in his eye. Your attempt is weak anyway, it never would’ve worked but you had to try. You always have to try. Maybe that’s how you ended up here.

“Shut up.” His words are like fire, spitting all over you and you cower, you can’t help it. He looks absolutely murderousand you’ll know what’ll happen next. It’s nothing new, of course it isn’t, but the way you feel never goes away. This nervous flip of your stomach never goes away.

It wasn’t always like this. That’s what you tell yourself, that you’d made the right decision once upon a time and it’s not your fault that this is happening. Five years ago you were just a bright eyed pilot, looking to crush the First Order. Charlie was a technician, insisted he’d work on your ship and you fell for it. You fell for his good looks and his charm and the smile that you never see anymore. People had warned you, of course, but you didn’t listen to them. Hell, you didn’t listen to anyone back then. God you wished you had. Maybe none of this would’ve happened.

It’s been two years since the first time he hit you. You’d been laughing about something stupid, probably with Poe because back then you were happy. You’d felt his fingers dig into your thigh first and when you’d gotten back to your quarters, he’d hit you until your face burnt. You didn’t tell anyone, thought you could survive it because you’d never let anyone walk over you before and why should Charlie be any different? You were strong back then too, a fighter, and you were so sure you were strong enough to face it. You were so goddamn sure. But when he told you to never say a word, threatened you because it was your word against his and who would believe a stupid little girl, your world fucking crumbled. So you explained the injuries away and hid them but you didn’t say a word. Not once.

And now you were trapped in your own personal hell.

Charlie gives you a smirk, a sick, twisted smile and stalks towards you from where you’re still learning heavily against the foot of the bed. “Let me see you arm.”

“No...no, I—“

“Let me see you arm.” His voice is deadly, words ripping through the room as he tilts his head and meets your eyes. “Sweetheart.”

It’s that word that makes your legs give out and your one the floor in a heap watching him when he crouches down but not doing a single fucking thing to stop him because what can you do? His fingers close around your wrist and you flinch, don’t try to hide it, as he pulls the jacket from your shoulder with his other hand and deposits it on the floor next to you. The cuff of your shirt reaches your wrist and Charlie’s gentle when he pulls it up, rolling it to your elbow and taking a sharp breath when he sees the mess of your arm. It’s worse than an hour ago, turned an ugly purple and red, darker blood dried across the top of the deep lashes that paint your arm. Charlie nods, eyes flicking from your eyes to your arm and all you can do is sit and watch as his fingertips run up and down your arm. “Jesus.” It’s his voice, a breath, and you snatch your arm away.

“Stop.” But he won’t, he takes your arm back with cold fingers and admires, fucking admires, the mess of your arm. You can’t remember the specific reason for this particular beating but you’re willing to bet it had something to do with Poe and the two of you on your mission. Charlie’s usually there, lurking in the back to keep an eye on you because god forbid you actually get rid of him for good. Maybe you were too comfortable with Poe, maybe you got cocky or maybe you said something stupid and Charlie didn’t like it. Whatever you’d done, he’d taken you aside on the mission and lashed your arm with his belt before giving you an affectionate little pat and telling you to run along. It was an almost comical exchange when you think about it. That doesn’t change the pain though. Nothing changes that.

“You want me to kiss it better?”

“No.” You whisper, trying to move your arm. “No.”

“Aw, c’mon.” His lips touch the deepest cut on your arm and you hiss, biting your lip so you don’t say anything, so you don’t make it worse. “Let me make you feel good.”

“No!” You shove him off, reaching for the bed to pull yourself up because your entire body is shaking and you’re not sure you can pull yourself up.

You back away from Charlie who’s sitting on the floor just staring at you and your back hits the wall as he stands up. “What the fuck,” and he’s back, stalking across the room, “was that?”

“I don’t...” your voice trembles, “I don’t want this anymore.” You can’t believe those word have just left your mouth, you can’t believe that you’re standing across from Charlie telling him that you don’t want him anymore.

When Charlie laughs, a chill runs through every single cell in your body. It’s like your blood freezes and you feel like you could just die on the spot. “What makes you think you get to make that decision.”

This, this is where you trip up because you haven’t rehearsed a speech, you’re not confident in your ability or hit him with the facts and logic. The truth is, you’re terrified, you are absolutely fucking terrified because you’re starting to realize there is no way out. It doesn’t matter how many missions you go on with Poe, how many escapes you think you’ve made. He will never let you go. You can’t believe it’s taken you this long to figure it out.

“Charlie,” he knows your about to beg, he can see it in your face. “Charlie, please. I can’t do this anymore.”

Charlie shakes his head, amusement dancing in his eyes. “Go on your little surveillance mission. We’ll talk about this later, sweetheart.” That’s all you need to hear. You snatch your jacket from the floor, throwing the door open and fleeing down the corridor. You hate how scared you are. You hate how you feel so small and weak and powerless every time you’re near him. Most of all, you hate him.

It’s quiet as you head back to the hangar, passing the canteen that’s bursting with people. That’s where Charlie will go, when he’s calmed down and hashed out a plan for later. He won’t let you go. He won’t take this little show of resistance at all. He’ll use it to break you, crush you even more until your nothing but a shell of what you used to be.

The hangars dark when you get there and you don’t see Poe standing there at first, too focused on the future, too focused on what Charlie will do to you. “Hey sweetheart.” Sweetheart, that name on his lips sounds so much sweeter than on Charlie’s but it makes your stomach flip. You look up to Poe, plastering a smile onto your face and Poe grins, pats the side of the ship and offers you his hand. “You ready?”

Yes! You want to scream, yes more than anything because you are ready, you’re ready to blow this place to shit and never, ever look back. But you can’t say that, you can’t say any of that so you shrug, “Sure,” and take his hand. It surprises you, how warm and soft his skin is, how light his touch is. You can’t help yourself when you compare Poe to Charlie. Even Poe’s hair, warm rich curls seem a thousand times better than Charlie’s stupid blond man-bun. But it’s the eyes, you think, that do it for you. Poe’s eyes are beautiful, so beautiful and you could get lost in them for days. You mother used to say that you can always tell a monster by his eyes and, oh, how right she’d been.

You slide into the seat next to Poe, careful, like you’re holding your breath as the dull hum of the engine starts beneath you. You feel Poe glance over, feel his eyes trace patterns across your cheek. “You can talk, you know.”

“I know.” God, how can your voice sound so small? Where have you gone; how have you lost yourself so spectacularly? You feel like a bomb, just ticking and ticking until one day it’ll all be too much and you’ll just explode and take out everything around you. Including yourself.

The ship breaks through the vines, soars up and you watch as Poe steers easily, marvel at the routine movements of his hands. It’ll just be surveillance tonight, making sure no one breaches the perimeter of the base. But you don’t mind. It gets you out, gets you away from Charlie and you have a suspicion that Poe knows that too.

“What happened to you?” You’re not expecting that. Of all the things Poe could’ve asked you, that would not have even been a guess.

“What do you mean?” He rolls his eyes, turning to face you and you raise an eyebrow, reply in a quiet voice. “Eyes on the sky, flyboy.”

He shakes his head, but there’s a smile on his lips. “You ever heard of command pilot?”

“Oh, clever.” You grin. “Dangerous though, isn’t it?”

“Stop changing the subject.”

You learn forward and quirk an eyebrow. “What subject would that be, exactly?” You want to hear him say it, you have to, because he must know what’s going on by now. He must.

“You know what I’m talking about.”

It’s like you’re not even on the ship anymore. It’s just you and Poe and you’re starting to think that maybe you can trust him. He knows anyway, doesn’t he? Isn’t that what this has all boiled down to, the fact that he wants some sort of confession from you? There are tears in your eyes as you shift in your seat, watching the moons rise above the base. Poe doesn’t do anything, just waits. Finally you turn back to him and when you speak your voice is thick with tears. “I don’t think you know what you’re talking about.”

“Charlie.” And Poe’s voice is like ice. “Tell me about Charlie.”

“I...”

Poe reaches out, takes your hand and all you want to do is melt into him. “You can trust me.”

“I can’t.“

“Yes you can.” he gives your hand a squeeze, running his thumb along your skin and there are tears falling from your eyes too quickly to stop them. Poe coaxes it out of you, eventually, because it takes you a minute to trust him and realize that you’re safe with him; takes you a minute to realize you’re safe with someone.

You’re sniffing as you shrug your jacket off but Poe’s there, catching your tears on his thumb like they’re falling stars. He takes your jacket from you gently and you look up to him as he smiles, warm brown eyes locking on yours because he needs you to know that your safe. He needs you to know that he cares about you.

Your fingers shake when you touch your sleeve, you can see the material move as you drag it up over your arm and bunch it at the elbow. Poe stiffens beside you and he takes a sharp breath. Your arm looks like a slab of meat as you stare at it this time around; the skin angry. Tears fall fast and hot but Poe still doesn’t move until you try to roll your sleeve down and he catches your wrist with the lightest touch possibly because he won’t be the one to hurt you. He refuses.

He clears his throat and forces out one word. “When?”

It shouldn’t be so hard to tell him. You should be jumping at the opportunity because Poe figured it out by himself, you didn’t say a word so this isn’t your fault. You’ll doubt Charlie will see it that way but it’s too late now. He’s seen your arm, he’s seen your tears and he got the confession from you. “A few hours ago. On the mission.”

“What did he use?” Poe’s suspiciously calm but he hasn’t let go of you yet, linked your fingers together because you’re not alone in this anymore.

There’s no hesitation anymore. “His belt.”

“Sweetheart,” Poe dips his head. “Why didn’t you tell me?”

You shake your head, cracking the smallest smile. “You really think that would work out for me?”

Poe shakes his head, anger rippling across his face as his jaw flexes. “I’ll kill him.”

“No!” Your voice is shrill, bordering on hysteria as panic explodes in the pit of your stomach and Poe cocks an eyebrow in confusion. “No, you can’t. You can’t. Charlie won’t...he won’t like it.”

“I don’t give a shit what he’ll like.” Poe pulls you from your seat into his so that you’re on his lap. “We’re in this together now, me and you. You’re not gonna do this alone anymore.”

It’s then you let yourself fall into Poe, let yourself sob into the crook of his neck because this means the world to you and he must know that. Poe keeps his hand in yours, uses his free hand to run his fingers through your hair and down your spine until you’ve pulled it together enough to sit up and wipe your eyes. “Poe, I...”

He nods, you don’t have to say anything else but the smile he gives you seems to light up the entire ship.

And then he kisses you.

You kiss him back almost instantly because you haven’t felt this way in so long. You haven’t been touched like this, lovedlike this in so long and Poe is like this beautiful breath of fresh air that’s swept into your life and now you’re a seeing clearly for the first time in what seems like forever.

You pull away after a few second, tears dry on your face but that doesn’t matter because Poe’s looking at you like you created the entire galaxy. You want to take Poe’s hand and walk back into the base and never think about Charlie again but it’s not that easy. It’ll never be that easy.

“You okay?” Poe’s voice has your knees weak in the best kind of way and you give a little chuckle.

“I’m better than okay.” You can feel yourself coming back to life, can feel that fire and that light that’s been buried depo beneath the surface this entire time. You hesitate, “I need your help.”

“Sweetheart, I’ll do anything you ask me.” He smiles but his eyes are dull, don’t shine like they usually do.

“What’s wrong?”

You’ve never seen Poe hesitate like this, his mind turning like he’s fighting with himself over what to say to you. “I’ve been...” he stops, clears his throat and corrects himself. “I am in love with you.” You think the world stops, just freezes, and you give a little shake of your head in disbelief. You open your mouth to reply but Poe cuts you off. “I’ve been in love with you since that mission in Naboo when you shot that Stormtrooper in the face and then took a bullet for me. I’ve been in love with you since you started to learn how to fly and you got so excited about it that you smacked Lana in the face by accident and gave her a black eye.” He chuckles, mostly to himself, and you grin along with him. His smile fades a little then and he continues. “I saw it happen, y’know, with Charlie. Watching that fire in your eyes go out was the worst thing I’ve ever seen.”

“I...” you keep shaking you head because that’s the only thing you can do that makes sense. It’s confusing, it’s unexpected but it’s fucking wonderful because you love Poe too. It’s taken you a while to see, blinded by Charlie and all the pain he brought you but now you know. You think you’ve known since the time in the canteen when he threw a bunch of blueberries at you for calling him flyboy. You think you’ve known for a long time.

Poe gives a nervous chuckle, “You got anything to add, sweetheart?”

The smile breaks across your face like the fucking sun and you pull him closer, kissing him again and again and again. “I love you too.”

“Thank God, could you imagine if you’d say something else, so—“ you cut him off with a kiss, laughing against his lips as he runs a thumb over your cheek. “You’re so beautiful.” He murmurs against your skin.

“You’re so cliché.” You reply but you’re laughing like you haven’t in months. “What are we gonna do?” You sigh, tugging on the ends of Poe’s curls as he swats your hand playfully. “I’ve gotta tell Charlie.”

“You don’t owe him anything.” Poe mumbles as he kisses your neck. “Fuck him.”

“Well—“

“Not literally.” Poe scoffs but his eyes are bright again, just like yours. “C’mon, we’ve gotta go.”

You haven’t even noticed that the base is coming back into view until the ship dips back below the vines and Poe lands the ship smoothly back in the hangar. You feel like your limbs are seizing up as Poe offers you his hand again and leads you from the cockpit. He’ll be waiting because you’ve been out on patrol too long and god forbid something happens to you that’s out of his control. Fear blooms through your chest and your heart hammers and you’re wondering how you got yourself here and why you couldn’t just stick it out for a little longer.

“What’s going on?” Poe murmurs as you turn the corner

“I can just tough it out.” you blurt, catching Poe’s wrist to stop him in his tracks. “I can tough it out, we both know that. There’s no reason to start anything. I don’t...I don’t need you to do this.”

“Sweetheart,” Poe sighs, “look what he’s done to you. You don’t need to stay with him, you don’t need to lie down and take this anymore.” He runs a hand through his hair as you wish for the ground to swallow you up. “But you’re not in this alone anymore. Everyone’s going to be on your side, I promise you that.”

It takes another minute of Poe convincing you for you to finally force one foot in front of the other, but when you do you feel as if nothing will stop your again. Poe’s right, he’s brainwashed you to make you think that being in this stupidly abusive relationship is okay. But he’s wrong, Charlie is so fucking wrong if he believes he can break you. You know who you are, now more than ever, you’ve ignited that fire that’s been desperate to burn for so long and your back, ripping through the restraints Charlie forced you into.

“I’m ready.” You nod, taking a breath because you’re not ready but it’s now or never. Poe nods, takes your hand and leads you down the hallway back to the quarters. As expected, Charlie stands in the hallway with his arms crossed and a bored, irritated expression that sits easily on his face. You feel Poe’s thumb tracing small circles across your skin and notice as Charlie’s eyes lock on your hands. You learn over to Poe, a small smile lifting your lips. “Let’s not cause a scene.” You whisper.

Poe gives a mocking nod of his head. “No, let’s.” But you know he won’t. He’ll step back and he’ll let you say what you need to. He won’t take this moment away from you, not when he knows what it means.

“Back late, aren’t you?” You almost bail right there and then because Charlie’s eyes hold the murderous glare you’re so familiar with and he hasn’t stopped looking at your fingers, so delicately intertwined with Poe’s. You take a sharp breath, feel Poe’s grip tighten ever so slightly and take a step forward, eyes level with Charlie’s. He raises an eyebrow in amusement, like he can’t believe you’re going to say a word to him.

“We’re done.” It’s not exactly the way you pictured the delivery but the look of shock on Charlie’s face is as good as any and victory bubbles in the pit of your stomach. You take another step forward, breaking away from Poe’s hand and stepping up to Charlie. “This,” you motion between the two of you. “This is over.”

Charlie scoffs, “What makes you think you can do that?”

“What makes you think I can’t?” And, god, it feels so fucking god to stand up to him, to show him the warrior that you’ve been all along. “What makes you think I give a shit about you at all?” You’re words are ripping through the air now, deadly, stalking towards Charlie before they tear him to shreds. His jaw is slack, mouth open like he can’t believe what he’s hearing but you keep going. You can’t stop yourself because you deserve this and you’ll be damned if you let him walk away before you tear him apart. “You broke me.” You hiss, “you wanted me, you took me and then you fucking broke me. I haven’t been happy in two years, do you know that? Fuck, I haven’t been myself in two years.”

You chance it, take another step forward and draw yourself up to full height so that you’re looking straight into his eyes. “W-wait.” God it feels good to hear him stammer, for him to be unsure in his own skin just like you’ve been for months and months.

“You don’t get to talk now.” Your voice cracks but it doesn’t matter, it won’t affect you. “You don’t get to say anything to me ever again. You understand that?”

“I—“

“Do you understand that?” Every single word that leaves your mouth is coated with malice.

Charlie nods once and his voice is so small. “Yes.”

“Get the fuck out of my sight.”

You watch him turn tail and hurry down the hall until he’s out of sight and you can finally breath again. Your stuck there for a little bit, just staring at the spot where Charlie had been standing and not fully believing a word that’s just come out of your mouth.

“Sweetheart,” Poe breaks you out of your daze and you stumble back into his arms, letting him whisper in your ear, and run his fingers through your hair. “You did it.” He murmurs. “Sweetheart, you fucking did it.”

And again, it’s your name on his lips that pulls you back and you lift your head from Poe’s chest, grinning when he kisses you. Because it’ll always be Poe that brings you back and reminds you who you are. It’ll always be Poe.

Every single time.

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constilationn · 3 years

Note

I absolutely love your story's. I have a rescuest. How about Poe Dameron forgets a birthday or anything else of the reader it's up to you. Hope you can do something with my rescuest. Until your next awesome story.❤️

First off, thank you so much this put a massive smile on my face so ur pretty awesome. Second, that you for the inspiration!!! I’m gonna get right on that, this is the most excited I’ve been in weeks 💓💓

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constilationn · 3 years

Text

Help me out - please read 💓

Hey guys!!! I know I’ve been super inactive lately bc school is crazy but I need your help. I need fresh inspiration so send me requests, send me ideas, send me whatever weird stuff goes on in your head because I’m desperate to get back to writing! It doesn’t have to be marvel and Star Wars, tbh I’d love some one direction stuff

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constilationn · 4 years

Text

Masterlist

Snowfall - Kylo Ren

Fire and Rain - Poe Dameron

Beautifully Broken - Poe Dameron

Tales of Suspense - Bucky Barnes

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constilationn · 4 years

Text

Fire and Rain Masterlist 🔥

Summary: You and Poe are polar opposites, almost like fire and rain, yet fate keeps throwing the two of you together. Do opposites really attract?

Part 1

Part 2

Part 3

Part 4

Part 5

Part 6

Part 7

Part 8

Part 9

Part 10

Part 11

Part 12

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constilationn · 4 years

Text

Fire and Rain || Part 12

A/N: SUPRISEEEE, this is it guys! after months of planning and then weeks of delays (my bad), the last part of fire and rain is here! Guys, I hope you loved it as much as I loved writing it and please, please do leave me feedback it is so greatly appreciated!!

Rating: T

Warning: naughty words

Summary: You find yourself with Poe once more but this time, maybe he’ll realise you’re more than a technician

Part 11 🔥

As it turned out, it was not like riding a bike.

Flying around the base with Poe by your side was very different from crossing systems by yourself. You were such an idiot, you hadn’t figured out an entrance plan or an extraction. Hell, you didn’t even know where the man was. You’d turned into Poe: jumping into a situation with no preparation and hoping for the best. Usually you were so cautious, so organised. You never would’ve done this before Poe. The only thing that drove you towards him this time, was pure fucking passion and it pissed you off to no end.

You regretted a lot of things as you flew over the Royal House of Naboo, landing almost gracefully in the loading bay. You weren’t the best pilot, granted, but the dirty looks thrown your way as you crossed towards the Gungan High Council house made it seem you’d killed everyone in sight by the time you’d landed.

You stepped across the threshold into the Gungan High Council, watching carefully as you were tracked across the building towards the desk that sat at the front. “Hi.” You shot the women sitting behind the desk a sweet smile.

She barely looked up, focused on the book in front of her. “Business or pleasure?”

“What?”

She looked up, bored. “Business or pleasure?”

You shrugged, what did you class Poe as? You shivered thinking about that night in the desert, berating yourself for thinking about him like that. You rolled your eyes, this stupid man had you brain in knots and he wasn’t even here. “Pleasure, I guess.”

“You guess?” She sighed, folding her hands in front of her as she fixed you with a frustrated expression.

“Listen,” you leaned across the desk. “I think my boyfriend’s cheating on me.” The women shifted on her seat, moving forward in interest and by the glimmer in her eye, you knew you’d caught her. “I just need to know where he is,” you wiped a tear you’d forced from your eye. “Please, he’s got dark curly hair, beautiful brown eyes and the sharpest jaw you’ve ever seen.” The women started to nod slowly and you gave her a relieved smile, your mind reeling from how easily the words had rolled off your tongue. “Do you know where he is?”

The women put her hand gently over yours and you rested the urge to snatch them back, remembering you were supposed to be some sort of inconsolable girlfriend. “I saw him heading to the Royal House of Naboo a few hours ago, anyone that goes anywhere passes through me. If you hurry you should be able to catch him.”

“Thank you,” you pulled your hand away from hers as quickly as you could, wiping nonexistent tears from your cheek. “Thank you.”

You turned on your heel, leaving the Gungan High Council in search of Poe. You couldn’t begin to imagine what Poe had gotten himself into. The very fact he was in The Royal House of Naboo, probably unarmed and definitely irritating everyone within a ten meter radius, spoke volumes.

Your boots echoed across the marble floor as you scanned the foyer. What once had been the pride and joy of Naboo had been turned into a museum; preserving the pieces of history that didn’t quite fit anymore. There was no logical version of events that would leave Poe stranded in the middle of a museum on the very planet he'd run into trouble not so long ago.

“Hey!” The voice caught you by suprise and you snapped back to attention, spinning on your heel with fists clenched and heart racing. “Thank god you’re here.”

Your mouth fell open. Actually, physically fell open as Poe’s eyes met yours. “What are you doing here?” You hissed.

“Me? Why did it take you so long?” You gave an indignant scoff, still gaping as he pulled you towards him. The touch of his skin on yours made you crazy.

“You pissed me off.”

Poe looked down, guilt dancing in his eyes. “I know. I know I fucked up.”

You wanted to scoff, to hit him; to hate him like you were supposed to. But you couldn’t do it. You couldn’t bring yourself to despise him, not when he was standing in front of you looking at you like that. You eyes softened, “No. I did.”

“What?”

“I wasn’t thinking. I jumped to conclusions way too quickly.”

Poe nodded, unsure if he could reach out, touch you the way he wanted. “I swear to you, nothing happened.”

“I know.”

“Sorry?”

You laughed softly. “I know. I ran into Jessie the other night. Turns out you turned her down.”

“Sweetheart,” he looked up, slow, cautious at the use of nickname. “I wouldn’t do that to you.”

You shook your head. “I know. I panicked. I told you everything that hurt me. I told you what destroyed me and for a second I thought you’d done exactly that.”

Hurt flashed across his face. “I didn’t.” He replied flatly.

You frowned, his toneless response bothering you. You’d come to Naboo to rescue him, to tell him that you were in the wrong. “Can blame you me?” You fired back, angered by the offense he’d taken. He couldn’t expect you to trust him, could he? Not after everything that he’d put you through. Not after his reputation on the base. Surely he knew what people said about him? He’d created that persona, hadn’t he? Why shy away from the truth?

How many questions until you drove yourself crazy?

“I know what people say.” He murmured and you lifted your eyes to meet his. “I know how they see me.”

“That’s not my fault.”

“I’m not saying it is.” His reply was quick and you looked down sheepishly. Of course it wasn’t your fault and he’d never accuse you of such, so why were you jumping to conclusions? Why did you want everything to go so horribly wrong? Was it some last resort to try and save yourself? Your survival instincts were beginning to show and it was most certainly going to be your destruction. Unless you fixed it. Unless you showed him that he was wrong. “I know I took who I wanted when I wanted. I know that.” He took a cautious step towards you and your eyes flickered down to where your hands met. “But I’m telling you now that I want you. Sweetheart, all I ever wanted was you.”

“Poe...”

“Please,” and your name was falling from his lips like a prayer. “I want you to believe that. I need you to believe that.” He looked like he was about to drop to his knees and beg for you. You had no idea where the sudden display of emotion had risen from. Poe Dameron was not the kind of man to beg for a girl when he could get anyone he wanted.

“What’s this about?” You asked gently and he knew what you meant. He seemed needy, desperate, for you and whilst you certainly didn’t mind the sudden show of commitment, it wasn’t typical Poe behaviour.

“I thought I wasn’t going to see you again.” He mumbled, “I was all cocky and confident but the minute I realised I couldn’t get home was the minute I realised I’d lost you.”

You looked down. Obviously he knew he’d fucked up but did he really think that you wouldn’t come for him? Did he really believe he meant that little to you? “Didn’t you think I’d come for you?”

Poe stayed silent and you nodded, tears threatening to spill over. Then, quietly “I knew you would.”

Laughter fell from your lips and Poe grinned broadly as tears slipped down your cheeks. And then he was stepping forward, his hand cupping you cheek as he kissed you like you were the only thing that mattered.

Because Poe Dameron may not have lived life slowly, but he certainly lived it by your side.

#star wars #Star Wars Fic #star wars masterlist #star wars imagine #star wars smut #poe dameron #poe smut #poe dameron fic #poe dameron x reader #poe dameron imagine #poe dameron fanfiction #The Force Awakens #the last jedi #the rise of skywalker #fanfic #Fic #fic rec #series #fire and rain

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constilationn · 4 years

Text

Fire and Rain || Part 11

A/N: You guys, this is so, so, immensely overdue. I’m so sorry for the delay on this series, especially because I was so so excited to write it in the beginning. All I can say is I hope you enjoy this chapter - feedback is always appreciated.

Rating: T

Warning: Naughty words

Summary: You know you’re in the wrong but somehow, Poe is too. It doesn’t mater, you’re always there to save his arse, right?

Part 10 🔥

“Wake up!” The hiss in your ear jolted you from a dreamless sleep, the thin sheet torn away from your body.

“Fuck off.” You mumbled, snatching the covers back from whoever had invaded your quarters. “I’m sleeping.”

“You’re moping,” It was Nya’s voice in your ear, shaking you until you angrily opened your eyes.

She wasn’t wrong. The conversation with Jessie and the other girls last night had made you realise just how stupid you were. Granted, when you’d heard Jessie in Poe’s quarters it had been a compelling argument for you to get the fuck away but you probably could’ve let him explain. Thinking about it, you definitely could’ve let him explain.

“What do you want?” You glared at Nya, forcing yourself out of bed and towards the mirror that hung dangerously from the wall.

“General called for you about an hour ago.”

You turned back to her sharply. “An hour ago?”

“Listen,” Nya raised her hands in defence, “I wasn’t prepared to loose my life over trying to wake you up.”

You threw on your jacket, sitting down on the edge of the bed to put your boots on. “Don’t be so dramatic.”

“I’m not being dramatic. I’ve never seen someone so aggressively tired.”

You rolled your eyes, following Nya from your quarters. “Did the General say what it was about?”

“I’m just the messenger,” Nya paused, averting her eyes. “Safe to say its probably about Poe.”

You sighed, “These people know I’m more than just Poe Dameron’s technician right?”

Nya gave a short chuckle, “No.”

“Excuse you.”

Nya shrugged, failing to suppress her laughter. “Listen, you’re always around each other and you never seem to be working on anyone else’s ship.”

“Because he fucks it up so much!” You replied, tone rising defensively as you darted from your quarters, Nya at your heels, “it’s not my fault he’s an idiot.”

“But you could always pass the job to someone else.”

“No one else knows him like I do.”

“You mean no one knows his ship like you do.”

You frowned, “that’s what I said.”

“No,” Nya chucked as you entered the Hub, “you didn’t.”

You smacked her the arm and she laughed. “I did too. Besides, it’s not exactly a lie. it takes a special type to work with the idiot Commander.’

“You mean it takes you and you alone.”

“You know what—“

“General!” Nya cut you off, pulling you towards Leia as you glared at the back of her head. Was that what everyone thought of you? That you were at Poe’s beck and call?

You smacked Nya on the back of the arm to avoid Leia’s gaze, smiling sweetly at the General. “You rang?”

Leia all but rolled her eyes as you grinned, waiting for the reason Nya had dragged you out of bed. “I’m afraid Poe’s gotten himself into trouble.”

“Right,” you nodded slowly, unsurprised, “what do you want me to do about it.” You winced as Nya hit you and Leia raised an eyebrow. You caught yourself, biting your tongue as you sighed. You hadn’t meant to be so rude but any mention of Poe made you angry, even though he technically hadn’t done anything wrong. You were confusing yourself, all of these stupid emotions over a man you promised yourself you’d never love.

“Wasn’t he teaching you how to fly?” Nya asked slyly. Your turned to glare at her, gritting your teeth.

“I’m sure you can send a more experienced pilot.” You answered, “I started learning two weeks ago.”

“We could,” Leia replied, “but we need you to go. You’re the one who works on his ship.”

“Okay, this base has other technicians right?” You raised your eyebrows, “I’m not just Poe Dameron’s technician.”

Leia smiled gently, “I know.” Nya shot you a sympathetic smile and you sighed, “but you’re the only one he trusts.”

“I’m not sure this a question of trust.” You weren’t exactly sure why you were trying to blow off the opportunity to help Poe. But you were still so angry at him. So angry at him for changing you completely, for loving you and for exposing you to the type of love and freedom you didn’t think you’d ever find. You were so angry that you cared so much about him. And above all, you were furious that you’d broken every promise you’d ever made yourself and fell head over heels for him.

“I disagree.” You waited for Leia to expand, crossing your arms as Nya looked between the two of you with nervous anticipation. Leia’s eyes twinkled, a slight smile pulling at the corner of her lips and you groaned, looking down, feeling Leia’s smirk widened as you gave in. “Fine! Fine. What do we know? Where is the bastard?”

Nay snorted beside you. “Bit rude.”

“You want me to hit you again?”

“He’s on Naboo.” Leia interrupted.

You scoffed, “Oh he made it this time, did he?”

Leia shook her head, “All we know is that he’s run into trouble.”

“What a fucking surprise.” You rolled your eyes, already turning away from Leia with regret spinning through your head and the hope that she’d forgive you for being so stupidly sarcastic. You couldn’t help it, anytime Poe was mentioned your mind just stopped working. You’d never been so infuriated in your life.

“Hey!” Nay’s footsteps echoed behind you as you stormed to the hangar, “Wait!”

You spun on your heel, “Yes?”

“What are you doing?”

You looked towards the ship stationed by the entrance of the hangar, trying to conceal your nerves by shoving your hands into your jacket pocket and fixing Nya with the most sarcastic smile you could muster. “I’m going to save the idiot, aren’t I?”

“What? No! You don’t have any supplies, you don’t have anything!” You rounded the ship, climbing the first few rungs of the ladder. “You’re not even wearing your flight suit!”

You chuckled, slipping into the pilots seat. “I don’t need it.” You weren’t sure if that was strictly true but you were pretty sure Poe wore his because it made him feel cool.

“Are you insane?” Nya yelled, watching as you tried to remember the steps for flight preparation that Poe had taught you. She knew there was no use in trying to stop you, you’d hung around Poe long enough to know that if you really wanted to do something, you shouldn’t give anyone the chance to wreck it. “You don’t even know how to fly!”

“Sure I do!” You grinned down to Nya as the pilots capsule closed above you, “It’s just like riding a bike.”

#star wars #Star Wars Fic #star wars imagine #star wars smut #star wars x reader #poe dameron #poe dameron fic #poe dameron x reader #poe dameron imagine #poe dameron fanfiction #poe dameron angst #The Force Awakens #the last jedi #the rise of skywalker #Fic #fanfic #fan fic #series #fire and rain

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constilationn · 4 years

Text

Snowfall

A/N: Let me start by giving my deepest apologies!! this was a request I got ages ago and I was so excited to write it but then life got in the way. I wrote a long one to make up for being such a shitty author so I really, really hope you enjoy iy. I'm sorry from the bottom of my heat - C

A/N PT 2: also the request prompt was a little different from this but the story took on a life of it’s own so I really hope you don’t hate me. @thefandomnetworkingchannel-32

Rating: T

Warning: naughty words

Summary: You’re Kylo Ren’s apprentice, training with him when an avalanche strikes and you go under. He rescues you, takes you back to base but what he realises along the way is that, maybe, he can’t live without you.

Your heart thumped, feet pounding to the rhythm of your unsteady breath. Running fast, faster and away from the danger that you knew was close behind you. You slipped, falling heavily, a scream ripping itself from your lips even though you knew you couldn’t make a noise. You scrambled up, touching a finger to the base of your nose and gasping when it came away crimson.

“Run!” a strangled cry, not far behind you. “Run!”

You whipped around, terror rising in your throat. They were close. Everything was a blur, tinted orange and red and grey with blood, smoke, fire. You could hear screaming and it rang through your ears, piercing your skull and the world titled.

You bolted upright, tears streaming down your cheeks, sheets a tangled mess around your legs as you tried desperate to calm your heart that felt like it might burst from your chest. It was the third time in a week you’d had that dream and you woke from it each time more broken and beaten than before. Every time you woke, you found yourself drowning in your own fear.

You didn’t want to wake from it anymore.

❄️

“I’m not going to repeat myself.” You squeezed your eyes shut, trying to block out his voice. It was the second time in as many days that he’d gotten into your head, worming through your thoughts; turning them like pages in a book. And you couldn’t do a single thing to stop him.

You clenched your jaw, eyes opening with flustered irritation. “I’m trying, Ren.” You’d been his apprentice for too long, you were starting to slip, to fall into a comfortable, annoying pattern.

“Not hard enough.” You rubbed your eyes, fighting to stay awake even though the forest around you was bright. Snow kissed the tips of the fir trees and blanketed the forest floor, turning your feet numb through the thin, worn leather of your boots. “You can’t let yourself become this vulnerable.” It had been months since he’d taken you from your home planet, wanting to take advantage of the power you had. you wondered if he’d grow tired of your failure, if he’d ever decide that he didn’t need you.

“You think I’m trying to be vulnerable?” you snapped, glaring at him. You masked your defeat beneath a layer of annoyance and sarcasm but caught his helmet and saber lying beside him and lowered your voice. “you think I want you in my head?”

Kylo took a step towards you and you held his gaze. His eyes, like pools of honey beneath the sun, met yours with an unwavering gaze, the scar that ran the length of his face becoming more prominent as he drew closer. “I know you don’t.” you were surprised at the softness of his voice. “You need to be strong.”

“Easy for you to say.” He raised an eyebrow and you gave a defeated sigh. “Just…stay out of my head. Please.” You watched him carefully, letting your body lean against a broad trunk.

Kylo frowned, “What are you trying to hide?” his deep voice didn’t seem to suggest you could tell him anything but the truth. And what was that truth? That you were scared, terrified, that he’d grow bored of you and get rid of you without a second thought? That you knew you weren’t good enough but you wanted to be anything other than a disappointment? What could you tell him that wouldn’t make you sound weak; make you sound exactly like everything he hated.

“Nothing.” You finally answered. Kylo scoffed with a rare roll of his eyes. He’d known you long enough to know when you were lying, not that it was difficulty to tell. Take away the fact that he could read your mind and you had the worse poker face on any planet. “Nothing.” You repeated yourself, wincing as your voice rose an octave higher.

You flinched as he took another step towards you, fighting to keep your eyes on him you wanted his cold eyes to soften more than anything. You wanted him to understand everything that was going on in your head. You wanted him to help you. “Don’t make me ask again.”

“I…I don’t-“

“Don’t make me ask again.”

“I had a nightmare,” you finally whispered, lowering your eyes to your black boots. “I had a nightmare . it’s the third time this week.”

You could still feel his eyes on you but refused to look at him. You knew what he was thinking. You knew that he’d realised you were nothing.

“What about?”

“What?”

“Your nightmare,” Kylo cleared his throat, awkward as he tried to hold your gaze. “What was it about?”

“I…I can’t remember.”

“Yes you can.”

You sighed, shaking your head and trying to keep tears at bay. The last thing you wanted to do was cry, to prove him right. Not after everything. “I think it was about… about when you took me.”

Kylo stiffened. “You think.”

“It was about when you took me.”

Kylo’s hand tightened on the hilt of his saber and you took a fearful step back, feet crunching in the snow. “You shouldn’t remember that.”

“But I do.” Your voice quavered, lips trembling. “I remember it.”

A fallen branch hurtled towards you before you had time to blink and you only juts manged to drop to the floor, burring your face in the snow and pretending that you were somewhere else. Anywhere else.

You couldn’t lift your head. Instead squeezing your eyes shut and focused on the feeling of flakes on your lashes as the harsh steps of Kylo’s boots drew closer. There were tears in your eyes, falling with a soft hiss onto the snow below you as your entire body trembled and you fought to stand. Your nerves were on fire, goose bumps erupting over your skin as you bowed your head and stood before Kylo.

“How much do you remember?”

“Not…” your teeth chattered as you paused, “just running and smoke and fire.” Rage burnt in his eyes, a wild; untamed glimmer as he stared at you. “I don’t remember anything else. I swear.” Red anger brunt through the forest as Kylo’s rage made the snow melt around you.

A rumble to your left was the only thing that could rip you attention away from Kylo’s fury and you watched, eyes wide with horror as the hillside crumbled and the perfect blanket of snow collapsed and rushed towards you. Your heart stopped and you were frozen in place, frozen by fear as your limbs quaked, leg shaking ad threatening to give out as Kylo’s voice faded from your mind until it was just you, the snow and your racing heart.

You realised that you were afraid to die.

❄️

What had he done?

Your body was limp in his arms. Lips blue and skin pale as he carried you back towards the ship. He hadn’t meant for his anger to get the best of him. He hadn’t meant for it to go this far.

He hadn’t meant to hurt you.

He looked down at you in desperation, longing to brush the hair from your face but fear of hurting you holding him back. He raised his eyes, sending a silent prayer to a force he didn’t truly believe in and waited for that perfect moment when you’d open your eyes and he’d know that you were okay.

Your skin was white as snow, white as ice and the beautiful rose that dusted your cheeks had disappeared, leaving you cold. Still. It was as if his worst nightmare had come to life ad he was staring it in the face.

He blamed himself, of course he did. if he hadn’t been so harsh, if he hadn’t of taken you in the first [lace, then maybe you’d be okay. If he wasn’t so fucking broken, maybe you would’ve stood a chance.

And so he blamed himself, over and over, for denying the world one more perfect thing.

❄️

You felt like you were still beneath layers of snow when you found your way back to the tip of consciousness.

It had been nice, the darkness; the still and quiet. It had been nice, not having to think or feel or to the live up to the expectation of being perfect. Maybe you weren’t so afraid of death after all. Maybe you were comforted by it.

“I’m glad you’re alright.” You hadn’t even noticed Kylo, stripped of his mask and uniform, sitting by your bedside.

You pulled the blanket tighter around, drawing your knees up and resting you chin on them. “I’m fine.” You didn’t want to talk to him, not after what he’d done. His anger had almost killed you and so maybe you were done with trying to see the best in him. Maybe you were done trying to make him see the good and the light. You were done with all of it.

“I’m sorry.” His words were almost too quick for you to catch and when glanced towards him, he was staring at his hands, red creeping across his cheeks.

“What?”

“I’m sorry.” There it was again, an apology and with almost no hesitation. You weren’t sure if you felt fear or relief.

You shrugged, supressing a shive. “It’s okay.”

“No, it’s not. It’s my fault that you’re hurt. It’s my fault that you’re here.”

Silence. A deafening, horrible silence. He was right, it was his fault. All of it. “I’m not going to correct you.” You murmured.

“Nor should you.” His reply was so quick, so certain that it left you speechless. You hadn’t expected to even see Kylo until training, let alone him come to the infirmary to apologise to you.

“Why are you here?” a simple question, so simple that it should’ve had had you shaking with fear. But you needed to know, you had a right to know. Whatever you were feeling towards Kylo was certainly not the hatred or anger that you’d convinced yourself of earlier. It was something different. Something better.

Kylo hesitated. “I wanted to apologise.”

“Why?” you confidence was growing with every second that crawled by and every beat of your heart as you watched him shift uncomfortably.

Kylo looked frozen. The question was designed as a trap, a method of confession, and you both knew it. But he stayed, inches away from you’re and contemplated his answer. You watched his mind church, watched as his fingers link and unlike and realised it was the first time you’d ever seen his hands without his gloves on. His tongue darted between his lips to watch them and you watched as his eyes softened as they landed on your face.

“You make me want to be better.”

If he hadn’t had your attention before, he did now. Your eyes met his, trapped, caught, in his soft brown orbs and a hint of a mile raised his lips. You couldn’t believe what you’d just hear, much less that it had willingly came out of his mouth.

You swallowed thickly, desperate to collect yourself but mesmerised by the confession. “How so?”

“I break too many things,” he started in a slow, soft whisper that had you hanging onto his every word. “I hurt too many people. I thought it was because of my power. I thought it was what I had to do. But you…” he paused, unsure and lowered his eyes. “you have power, just like me, and never once have you hurt someone. Not once.”

“Kylo—”

“I don’t want to break another perfect thing.”

His confession left you defenceless and he looked back to you with desperate eyes. He wanted validation, he wanted to know that you didn’t think any less of him. He wanted to know that it was all worth something, that he was worth something to you.

“Kylo…” but your words failed you and all you could do was look at the shell of the man standing in front of you with broken eyes and a shattered spirit.

“Please.” One tiny, broken word was all you nodded and you were on your feet, fingertips ghosting across his kin as you caught his tears on your thumb. “I don’t want to be like this anymore.”

“So let it go,” you whispered, “juts let it go.”

And then his lips were on yours.

You kissed him back with ferocity, as if maybe you could heal him way. Maybe you could fix him if he realised that he was worth something to you.

He pulled away, your name like a prayer on his lips, and the smile that spread across his face could’ve lit up cities.

Hell, it could’ve lit up the galaxy.

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constilationn · 4 years

Text

Fire and Rain || Part 10

A/N: I feel like this scene is a little bit high school, kinda like mean girls or whatever but it’s essential to the plot so bare with. P.s I’m so sorry for not posting but schools back and I'm stressed out!

Rating: T

Warning: naughty words, sexual references

Summary: the consequences of Poe’s actions come into play, but were you too quick to jump to conclusions?

Part 9 🔥

There were still tear stains on your cheeks when you left your quarters the next morning, eyes swollen from crying. You’d spent the sleepless night with your head buried under your pillow to muffle your sobs, cursing his name to the moon because you’d promised yourself you weren’t going to let this happen. Not only had you turned into one of the girls that fawned over Poe, you’d let yourself become another notch in his bedpost; another conquest. And that wasn’t even the worst part. The worst part was that he’d done exactly what you’d told him you were afraid of. He’d broken through your wall, let you trust him and then hurt you in the worst way possible.

The hub was full by the time you reached it, joining the back of the crowds in an effort to keep hidden. By the looks people were throwing you, you were sure that your puffy eyes and messy hair was even worse than you imagined. the fact that Poe stood about three feet away from you, looking infuriatingly perfect didn’t help matters at all.

“Is this everyone?” You lowered your eyes not really listening as Leia ran through the last briefing before the mission. At least Poe had to go away today, that way you wouldn’t have to see him for a week and then, maybe by the time he got back you’d have regained some of your dignity.

You only looked up to focus when someone nudged you in the arm and you found yourself met by a dozen pairs of eyes. You tried to shake yourself from your daze, struggling as you felt Poe’s eyes on you. “Sorry?”

Leia’s smile seemed alsmot sympathetic as she reacted herself. “I asked you if the ships were ready.”

“Yes,” you nodded ignoring Nya who stood to the left of you with brows furrowed in worry. “Yes. As you know, some of them are falling apart but we fixed them up as best we could.if everyone’s careful and sticks to the plan we should make it out.”

Leia nodded, throwing you a final, curious glance before turning her attention back to the rest of the hub. “You heard her,” she nodded in the direction of the hangar as the crowds began to disperse. “May the force be with you.”

Swept up in the crowds, you followed pilots and technicians alike through the base to the hangar, preparing to do one final check. If It was up to you, you’d be buried in blankets in your quarters and not setting foot in the hangar for at least another month. Hell, if it was up to you, you’d fly away and never come back.

“Sweetheart,” a hand caught your elbow as you turned into the hangar and tears welled in your eyes at the familiar tone of voice. You were slow to turn towards him, eyes locking on his hand touching your skin as people passed on either side of you. “Please,” Poe begged, “please let me explain.”

“There’s nothing to explain.” Your voice was quiet than you would’ve liked as you looked down to your shaking hands. You were telling him the truth, there was nothing to explain. You and Poe had never been exclusive, he’d never specifically told you that he was loyal to you and you alone. And what did you expect? You knew Poe;s history, the revolving door of girls he always had. He’d once claimed you were the only girl to never fall at his feet and so once you finally admitted your feelings for him, he’d gotten bored.

“No, there is. There is.” He wouldn’t let go of your arm, looking straight at you as you struggled to keep your tears at bay. “Sweetheart I —“

“I’d prefer…” you interrupted but paused a second later, fighting to keep your voice steady as you pulled your arm from his grip. “I’d prefer if you didn’t call me that anymore.”

Poe’s face fell. “No, you don’t understand I —‘

“Commander!” Snap stopped by Poe’s side as you looked down, staring at your shoes and wondering how long you could last before your tears started to fall. “What are you doing? We’ve gotta go.”

“Good luck, Commander.” You murmured, turning away and ignoring Poe’s protests as he was pulled back through the crowds by Snap. You’d never called him commander, the word feeling foreign on your tongue. You should’ve been insulting him, giving him a wink and a smirk or rolling your eyes as he made some stupid comment about fighting his way back you. There shouldn’t be a tension having over you, you shouldn’t want to crawl into a hole and die eveytime you saw him.

“Are you okay?” You failed to shake your thoughts away as you turned towards the voice, the pain lingering at the back of your mind. Nya frowned as you wiped a tear from your cheek, aware it was too late for her to miss. “What happened?”

‘Nothing,” you shook your head. “Nothing at all.”

🔥

The canteen was unusually quiet as you grabbed a tray from the table by the door. There was always a strange sense of loss the night a squad departed because it always felt like there was something missing. It always felt like a piece of your family had disappeared and you didn’t know when they’d be back.

You’d wasted the day staring at the wall in your quarters and it was only when Nya physically removed you from your bed that you’d actually made an appearance. There was nothing you wanted less than to go into the hustling canteen and have to listen to a thousand different girls tell the same story about the infamous Poe Dameron but at least he was gone. At least the pain dulled when you didn’t have to see him.

You let your tray clatter to the empty table as you slipped onto the metal bench and slouched over your food. Nya had promised to come back and eat with your forty minutes ago and there was still no sign of her. You doubted she be finished on whatever she was doing before midnight and so you were left to fend for yourself, again. Only this time you didn’t have Poe as a solace.

‘Can we sit here?” You looked up, tearing pieces of bread and littering the tray with them with a raised eyebrow. In front of you stood three of Poe’s regular side - pieces, bright smiles and stupid grins as they tried to share their one collective brain cel between them.

“By all means.” You nodded to the empty bench opposite you, baffled as to why they’d chose one of the only full tables to sit and gossip at for the next three hours. You rested your head on your palm, watching them with mild interest as their stupid, excited chatter echoed around you.

“You’re Poe Dameron’s technician, right?” One of the girls asked, popping a berry into her mouth as you struggled to find the strength to answer the quesiton. “Like, you’re with him a lot.”

“I’m a technician,” you corrected, pushing your tray to one side as your appetite disappeared completly, “And I went on one mission with the man.”

“I’d like to go on a mission with him.” the girl said dreamily before holding out her hand, “I’m Jessie.”

You fixed her with a wry smile, “Oh, I know.”

“You do?” Her eyes widened as you rolled yours. “How?”

“I’ve been with the Resistance for a while.” You raised an eyebrow, “I know pretty much everyone.”

“So you know Poe?”

You wanted to crawl under the table and die as the girls looked at you with fierce intensity. All you wanted was to eat a lot and wallow in self pity and now the three dumbest girls in the galaxy, who also happened to be the girls that Poe was fucking regularly, were sat opposite you. “Why do you care so much about him?” You sighed.

“I was in his room last night —“

“Sorry?” Jessie looked back over to you, eyes wide with shock at your vicious tone of voice. You shot her a smile, raising your eyebrows in a motion to carry on. You wanted to jump the table and punch the girl in her stupid, talkative mouth. Instead, you dug your nails into your palms, resisting the urge to shove an entire loaf of bread up her nostrils.

“I was in his room last night,’ she repeated, eyes full of fear as she glanced at you, “and I was trying all this stuff, making all these noises but he just wouldn’t go for it. He said he wasn’t into that kind of stuff anymore.”

“Into what kind of stuff?” You prompted, ignoring the other girls as they slunk away, leaving poor Jessie to deal with you and your slight psychotic break.

‘Sleeping around, I guess.” She replied, sitting as far back on the bench as possible in an attempt to leave. “He just wasn’t interested. He said something about being loyal or about how he wanted to change for some girl. I don’t know.” Jessie shook her head in disappointment as she turned to leave, throwing one last bright smile over her shoulder before she joined her friends. You sat back, slumped in your seat as you mind spun.

And suddenly everything made sense.

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