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sugalaritae · 1 year

Text

starstruck pt 8

Summary: Love is uncertain.

pairing: Kim Taehyung x plus-sized f. reader, Min Yoongi x plus-sized f. reader

genre(s): angst and getting shit together

au: non!idol, university!au, f2l, strangers to lovers

rating: 18+

word count: 7.2k

warnings: anxiety, yoongi goes to therapy (finally), unrequited love, fear of love, insecurities, kissing, almost sex (sorry), POV switches, everyone is starting to be a little more honest with themselves and each other.

author's notes: OMG it has been so long!! I am so sorry that it took me so long to write this. I'm so happy it's been finished though and that means that we only have one more chapter to go. I am also tossing around the idea of an epilogue, so maybe two chapters. I can't really believe that it's been over a year since I got this idea and decided to post it, the first time posting any BTS fanfic and now look at where we are! Thank you to every person who has stuck around. You mean a lot to me! Anyway, I hope you're all doing well and that this winter is being kind to you. I hope you enjoy this!! Thank you to @augustbutwinter for being an incredible beta!!

tag list: @miscelunaaa @herecomesjoon @minyoongiboongi @minttangerines

YOONGI

“How long has it been?”

He thinks for a moment as if he doesn’t know the exact date or how easy it would be to calculate it down to the hours or maybe even minutes since he last saw or heard from you.

“Three months,” he answers and watches as his therapist, an older woman with graying hair framing her face, nods.

“Do you think you want to reach out to her?” she asks.

This makes him actually think. This he doesn’t have memorized because he isn’t sure. He’s been thinking about whether or not he should message you because, while it has been months since he spoke to you, he isn’t sure you want to see or hear from him.

The last time he saw you was in the campus bookstore but you didn’t notice him. It had sent a surge of pain through his chest as he remembered every time you used to turn his direction even when you didn’t know that he was anywhere near you. He could remember the bright smile that would slip over your beautiful face or how sometimes you would wrinkle your nose and joke that you could smell him. The perpetually sad part of his brain that overthinks and questions every little thing, whether it’s in his life or in others, wonders if you could sense that he was near and chose not to turn to look at him. The slightly less sad part doesn’t want to know at all.

He shrugs and looks at his hands as his thumb rubs at a spot on the side of his index finger. A habit he picked up a long time ago. One that his mother used to get after him about. He thinks it might have started out of his OCD, a way of comforting him and putting him back in his body when he felt so out of control and his brain was firing nonstop.

“I don’t know if she’ll want to hear from me,” he says softly and shrugs again. “I think I’ve placed the ball on her side of the court and I’m just waiting to see if she does anything with it,” he explains as he looks up.

“Do you think she might be waiting to hear from you?”

This was what he liked about his therapist. From the first meeting, it seemed to him that she might be inside his head. Or maybe it was that his problems, his thoughts weren’t that unique and she had seen them over and over again in her twenty-five years of being a therapist. Another thing he liked about her–she’s got plenty of experience of talking to sad people under her belt. It feels very much like talking to an older family member, except one that doesn’t have biases. She’s neutral and asks the important questions, both ones that he’s been asking himself already and ones that his brain couldn’t even imagine asking.

“I sometimes wonder that,” he begins, rubbing his neck. “Then the little voice tells me that she’s probably realized that she’s better off without me. That she has someone now that takes care of her and —”

“You’re projecting. You don’t know what —” she looks down at her notes, “Taehyung is like when he’s with her.”

He smiles at this and shakes his head. “I think he’s good for her. I’ve seen them on campus. He waits for her outside of class with coffee.”

“And that means that he’s better than you?”

He pauses, then slowly shakes his head.

“You don’t know what’s going on in her head. You’ve stated before that she’s capable of putting on a strong exterior and that it was only in private that she let people see what was really going on.”

He nods.

“So why do you think that she’s changed that much in the last three months? Allowing people to see who you are, to let the public see that kind of vulnerability is a skill that no one in this world has. Except maybe the Dalai Lama but I think even he hides a lot.”

Another thing he likes about her, she doesn’t like bullshit. From anyone.

“By saying you think she has someone who takes care of her now erases all the ways that you took care of her before and all the ways that she took care of you. By saying that you’re beating yourself up over something that is untrue.”

She is looking straight at him and he feels like his chest is about to burst open. There is a tightness in his throat and he feels the familiar sting of tears build.

“She relaxed when she was around you. That means that she felt comfortable enough with you to allow herself to let those walls down. That means you took care of her and by the sounds of it, when she let her walls down you did too.”

He shakes his head. “I don’t think that’s true. I think she was right, I had walls up around her and that’s why I always drank. Especially when I was with her.”

He watches as the older woman smiles.

“Do you think that maybe the part of you that thinks this new man is taking better care of her could have been scared by the way you were vulnerable around her? That you felt so uncomfortable you wanted to drink, so you could pretend like you weren’t being vulnerable and it was the alcohol allowing you to be that comfortable with another human being?”

He swallows past the lump, slowly. His throat has gotten tighter. He doesn’t know why that is where all his tension resides. He’s a poet. He reads his vulnerability in words and it never gets like this when he’s up on stage.

There is a part of him that wants to scream and run, but that part has gotten quieter in the last few months and the part that was always there craving the closeness of others is louder. This is the part that lets him know it’s okay to cry and he closes his eyes, wiping at the tears that fall down his face. He bows his head to try and hide the tears even though she’s seen him cry so many times before.

“Be kinder to yourself, Yoongi. You are worthy of someone having their walls down around you. You’re worth letting your own walls down and letting people in. And your emotions are wonderful, they deserve to be heard. If you’re comfortable with it, I think maybe now might be the time to contact her and see if she’s willing to talk.”

He wipes at his cheeks, a little rougher this time, and nods.

“Remember the exercise I gave you last time? Have you started it?”

He looks up and smiles through the tears that are slowly starting to fade. The image of the small, washed out, old glass jar sitting on his bedside table with the notepad and pen right beside it.

“I’ve failed a few days but there were a few times when I rushed to the notepad and wrote something down as soon as it happened, like I needed to capture it on paper and save it for another time.”

She nods, a pleased smile slowly spreads across her face and Yoongi feels a small rush of pride through his chest. He’s done well. Last session she told him to start writing down the things that make him feel happy, proud, or content. He’s not always great at writing them down but he does look forward to rereading them in a year’s time. He had originally started with full explanations of events but they’ve slowly started to become one single line.

Cooked Jin dinner.

Didn’t leave the house when I wanted a drink.

Witnessed a person’s face light up with happiness when they saw their child. Wouldn’t have noticed that if I was still drinking.

“You’re doing a good job. I know that it might not feel like it some days, but you are,” she says softly as she closes her notebook. “Think about contacting her. It might be what you both need.”

He steps out into the cool breeze. He prefers being the last client of the day. So he can go out and be in the quiet of the night. He doesn’t know why he likes it but he does. Perhaps it reminds him a bit of his breakdown, the way that the city felt like a welcoming stranger. Unknown and lit up with emotions. He thinks maybe he’s searching for that feeling again, that he wants that feeling of alertness that he had. The way the world seemed to shine in a new way while also feeling like it was the darkest place he had ever been. An intense and beautiful combination of the light of the world and the darkness of his mind.

He hasn’t experienced that yet though. He has yet to experience that feeling again and he supposes that it’s a good thing. Maybe it’s not a good idea to go and look for that. He doesn’t want the low that came with it. He just wants the feeling of being alive again because he had never experienced that before.

Tonight he feels the burn in his pocket. The phone is right there and he could send a text. Just a quick hello to tell you that he’s thinking of you. That he misses you. Because that is the thing that he is missing the most: you. You are everything to him and he wants you to know that even if you don’t feel the same way as he does. Then he will bury all his feelings, he will be okay; he just needs you in his life.

TAEHYUNG

He can tell something is wrong.

There’s been something on your mind for the last few weeks and he knows it’s got to do with Yoongi. It can’t be easy not talking to your best friend. The person that you relied on so heavily. He couldn’t imagine not talking to Jungkook. He talks to him every single day, and he knows, eventually, when they stop living together that won’t change. He’s very much Taehyung’s person.

Except love complicates everything. In all the world’s uncertainty, this is the thing that he is the most certain of.

A year into his friendship with Jungkook, he had woken up one day to the realization that he was in love with his best friend. A sickening kind of love that lasted for two miserable, and yet, blissful months.

He doesn’t like to think about it often, has never admitted it out loud to anyone. It’s such a cliche–the queer friend falling in love with his straight best friend. He’s embarrassed to admit it, even though he sometimes thinks back on those months with fondness. That feeling of joy every time he saw Jungkook. Except that here was nothing to say. Nothing could come out of it. Jungkook wouldn’t reciprocate the feelings. He didn’t want to be let down verbally, so he kept it all in and eventually those romantic feelings switched back to platonic. The line was so easy to cross.

Which is why your relationship with Yoongi scares him so much.

He tries not to think of what you miss about Yoongi. Whether you miss him platonically or romantically. Doesn’t want to think about the possibility of unresolved feelings being there, hiding under your surface waiting for an opportunity to reveal themselves and crush his heart while making yours lighter.

There is a pang in his chest at that thought. That you might love someone that isn’t him.

He still hasn’t told you that he loves you. Even though it’s been several months. He, again, doesn’t want that disappointment. That embarrassment. Though he has seen moments where he thinks perhaps you feel the same way about him. The way that you look at him when he’s made a joke. You look at him like he’s the most stupid and most funny person alive. It makes his heart soar and he wants nothing more than to hear the words from you so he can finally release his own.

He just knows that there might be something missing there that is stopping you. Because you can’t really love someone back when there is something going on with your own heart; and there is obviously something going on with your heart. You’re battling something. Whether it’s figuring out what your feelings are toward Yoongi or just missing him, he just wants you to be okay and to figure it out. He’d love to help but he knows that you also need to do that on your own. So, he leaves it.

He’s thought about it a lot too. How if you told him that you loved Yoongi that he would be okay. He thinks he would be okay. Because he’s okay with being another person you love, if it means that you love him too.

“You think that you’d be able to be okay with her loving someone else at the same time as you?” Jungkook asks as Taehyung takes a sip of the water bottle he’s just opened.

“I think so, yeah.”

“Even if that person is someone who humiliated you?”

He thinks about this for a moment but he already knows the answer, it sits at the back of his brain and has been for a while now. He trusts that you know him. There is a part of him that thinks perhaps this is a mistake on his part, that Yoongi could just be a total asshole and you are blind to it.

He shrugs, because it’s all moot until you actually tell him. Until he confronts you about it because the thought you would choose someone over him has been driving the anxiety car in his brain. He’s starting to feel like the residual smoke is slipping down his spine and perforating his lungs, making him feel like he’s choking from the inside out.

“Doesn’t matter right now,” he says with another shrug. “I’m thinking too far into the future again. She might not love him at all.”

He doesn’t want to look at Jungkook who is probably giving him a look that says if you say so but he does anyway and for a moment he thinks his best friend is going to say those words that are floating around his head out loud, but instead Jungkook nods.

“It’s going to be okay, hyung,” he says instead and Tae nods because no matter what happens he has Jungkook and that matters more than any relationship.

He wants to believe that.

YOU

It’s starting to become a burden.

Yoongi’s name is still etched onto the list of message conversations. You’ve hidden his photos like they’re some kind of secret. You don’t want that. You want him. You’re not sure in what way just yet, but your heart aches every morning when you realize that the day has slipped into the afternoon and time has ticked by without a good morning text from him which was your custom.

Sometimes you used to text him first and he would complain that you had beat him to it; but not anymore.

The heartache used to be constant, from the moment you woke up and you remembered that you don’t talk to him; but your brain and your body have gotten used to it.

Now the heartache surprises you at random times.

It’s not just the texts, it’s seeing things that remind you of him or things that you know he would enjoy. You had made it to the counter at the university bookstore to buy him a book that you thought he might enjoy when you realized that you don’t know how you would get it to him. You bought it anyway, not wanting to leave the queue; but now the book just sits on your coffee table like a reminder of what you need to do and are putting off.

Just like how you’re putting off talking to Taehyung about it.

You know that he’s curious even though he won’t ask. He’s giving you room to do whatever it is that you need to do and you’re not sure what that is.

That’s the frustrating part.

So the days slip by. You ignoring the book that still sits on your coffee table. You rest cups on it, keys, plates, and then your shirt followed quickly by your bra. You ignore the awful nagging bubbling feeling you get when there is a quiet moment between you and Taehyung and you remember there is an entire conversation that you could start that would fill the silence.

Days slip by into evenings. Some nights you stay at Taehyung’s house and wake up to watch him and Jungkook joke while they cook breakfast. Some nights he takes you home and you fuck until every muscle in your body is weak and tired.

Tonight is one of those nights.

Taehyung kisses your neck and you moan out with pleasure because he has started to memorize the places on your body that he knows you like to be kissed. His hands are slipping down your sides, a thumb brushing against your nipple as he does so. He likes these little passing touches and so do you.

He leads you, backward, onto your bed, undressing you as you go. You open your eyes just in time to watch first, your bra and then shirt slip off the book and onto the floor. It catches you by surprise how quickly you fall back into your head like standing at the pool’s edge and being pushed backward into it. Memories of Yoongi splash around you, and you suddenly remember laying on your floor because you’ve both had too much to drink and you can’t make it to your bed. The way his laughter used to fill this small apartment. You close your eyes to try and get the memory out but all you can see is his smile, that wide one he gets when he’s absolutely and purely happy, the one that makes his eyes shine bright with stars.

“Hey,” Taehyung’s voice whispered and you open your eyes to find him no longer buried in your neck but looking right at you, his hands on either side of your shoulders.

“Where did you go?” he asks.

You don’t know why but you suddenly want to cry. He’s so caring. Worry paints his brow where sweat would have gathered if only you hadn’t fallen into your mind.

You could lie to him and tell him that you’re still here but you can’t. You’ve had enough of not talking about this and you separate yourself from him and sit up on the bed, grabbing your night shirt that is still laying on top of the duvet where you left it that morning.

“Did I do something wrong?” he asks as he leans back against his heels, and watches you slip the thin shirt over your head.

“No!” you say a little too loudly, a little too abruptly because it catches you off guard and you reach out to him and take his hand in yours and pull him down beside you.

You stare at the duvet and he stares at you for a moment until he pulls his gaze away and lets it fall to the wooden board that you are concentrating on.

There is an unbearable silence between the two of you as you try to quell the feeling of tears. You don’t want to cry and make this whole thing worse.

“If you don’t want to continue this, that’s okay. I’d like to be your friend though, after I get over you that is,” he says softly with a little sad laugh and a smile that doesn’t meet his eyes, two things that break your heart.

“What?” you ask, the sudden fear of losing him surging through your body. “No.”

You stare at him and he gives you the softest smile that somehow pushes the tears closer to the edge.

“I understand if you’re not ready to be in a relationship. Everything that’s been going on with Yoongi, if there are feelings there, and you need to figure that out then I’ll take a step back. I know what it’s like to be in love with a friend and not know what to do with them, it takes time but it will be okay.”

Your gaze slips to his hands. He’s picking at his left thumb nail and you are reminded of Yoongi and his tick. The way that he slips the pad of his thumb tenderly over his index finger. Always the same spot. This tick of Taehyung’s is different though. It’s a little more nervous, like a distraction to take him out of his body instead of into it.

It makes you so angry how kind he is. You’re not used to this kindness and part of you thinks that you’re undeserving of it. It took you so long to trust the kindness that Yoongi gave you. He had helped break down that wall. Chipped away at the brick until there was a window where he could slip his hand through and hold yours. Like a little glory hole for love you can hear him say in your head. He had chipped away at it so masterfully and patiently that you had allowed kindness from Jimin. Only for him to ruin everything and tear it all out from under you.

He had stepped through with a drink in his hand and begged you for something that you’re not sure he was ready for.. It had been Taehyung’s kindness that had shone a light on the whole situation and made you realize the red flag that Yoongi kept in his back pocket.

“I don’t know what I want with Yoongi,” you find yourself saying and then you move closer to Taehyung and rest your head on his shoulder. “But I know that I don’t want you to leave,” you say and you can feel him relax at the weight of your head on him or maybe it’s the weight of the whole situation that has suddenly lifted from his shoulders just a little.

“What does that mean for us?” he asks and you don’t fault him for this question. You are sure that you would be asking the same question if the roles were reversed.

“I think I need to be honest with you about the whole situation,” you answer and he nods. “I can make us some tea,” you say and leave his shoulder to look at him.

He nods. “That would be good actually because I need a moment to bring myself down,” he says as he looks down at the slight bulge in his joggers, a bulge that has already gone down since you felt it against your palm in the hallway on your way to your apartment.

The two of you share a little laugh and smile before you lean in and kiss him gently. He softens into the kiss and slips a hand onto your arm.

“This isn’t helping,” he mumbles against your lips as the two of you let it linger.

You bite your bottom lip and separate. “Sorry.”

He shakes his head and chuckles.

You push yourself up off the bed and begin to head to the kitchen, stopping on your way to pick up your shirt and bra. You toss both into the hamper near the wall and miss, but you don’t go and pick them up, that’s a job for tomorrow. Instead, you slip into the kitchen and fill the kettle before setting it on its dock and flicking the switch.

You lean against the counter in time to see Taehyung fall against your bed with his arms and hands above his head. You’re not sure what he’s thinking about but you hope that your words and the kiss have quieted the worries in his head. That they have cleared something up, even if it’s just a little something. You don’t want him to think that you’re making tea to sit down and have a conversation with him only to break up with him.

You fill the teapot with hot water and scoop out a small amount of tea leaves into the water, stirring it, and setting the lid carefully onto the ceramic pot. You carry everything carefully over to the coffee table and set them down, setting the pot down on the book.

You sit down on the small loveseat and lean down on your knees for a moment. Now that you’re close to him again the guilt of ruining a perfect moment slips into your system and starts to bite at you like a snake leaving bits of poison in your veins.

“Hey,” Taehyung whispers as he moves from the bed and slips next to you and leans into the corner of the loveseat and pulls you to him, letting your back rest against his chest.

You can feel the rise and fall of each of his breaths and you look down at yourself. You slip yourself onto the loveseat more and curl into him. His hand brushes against the back of your head until it’s fallen against your spine and he slips his fingers up and down your back in a pattern that should tickle, but you find comforting.

“He hurt me,” you say and he stills for a moment as if to give himself another moment to prepare for whatever truths you’re about to tell him.

“How?”

He had comforted you that night when Yoongi had confessed his love. He had given you his shoulder to cry on and he had kissed your forehead even though you barely knew each other. You hadn’t told him what had happened, just that you needed someone and he had let you in without any questions asked. There is a small little voice in the back of your head that says that this was a red flag, to let you in so easily, but you’re not sure if it’s red or just a little bit pink and the lighting is dark.

“He’s an alcoholic,” you say and it feels like you shouldn’t say that out loud. It’s not your secret to say.

“Did he hit you?”

You shake your head against his chest. “Oh no. No.”

Now it feels stupid to say the thing that you need to say but you do anyway.

“He told me he loves me,” you pause, the words feel heavy on your tongue but right and you’re not sure you like that feeling. “He’s in love with me.” You stare at your fingers and pick at the skin around your nail. “When you and I were texting about our date, I was with him, and he told me that he was jealous and then he kissed me that night but nothing else happened, he stopped it.”

You worry that you’re hurting Taehyung’s feelings but his hand hasn’t stopped moving against your back and so you continue.

“So when he told me that he loved me the night after I left your place, I realized that he was only ever vulnerable with me when he was stoned or drunk. That he couldn’t let me in without the help of a substance and I had just left you. You were kind to me and you had let me in after what I think was the perfect date. Your kindness made me realize that he wasn’t ready to give any of that that- kindness or love.”

You move your head to look at him and he’s staring at the furthest wall. His hand is still moving but he looks lost in thought.

TAEHYUNG

He wants to run away. He can’t stop the sinking feeling in his chest. He’s sure his heart is slipping deeper into his body because he feels out of place. He’s not sure what he’s supposed to do with everything that you’ve just told him. You still haven’t told him that you don’t love Yoongi. He feels grounded though, surprisingly, and he’s sure it’s because he hasn’t stopped touching you. He wonders if you’re aware of how you ground him. He knows that it’s two conflicting feelings–the sinking heart and groundedness– but nothing in this world, at this moment, makes sense, so he doesn’t think much of it.

"How is that supposed to make me feel?" he finds himself asking and immediately regrets it, though there is a small voice somewhere deep that tells him it's proud of him.

“What do you mean?” your voice slips into him and that isn’t the answer he wanted to hear but he supposes he probably would have asked something similar, if not that exact question.

“You realized that he wasn’t ready for you because of me?” he asks. He wants clarification or confirmation. No, he needs it.

He wants his heart to stop beating so wildly and for his head to stop screaming that you are in love with Yoongi. That you don’t have it in your already occupied heart to love him back.

He’s going to be heartbroken again, and he guesses he should be used to this by now. It’s what he’s best at–falling in love with people who are incapable of loving him back.

You shift in his lap and he lets out a groan as you push into his hip. For a moment he’s taken out of his head and put into the movement, the way his body is pushed as you move to look at him. He isn't sure he wants to look at you just yet. His heart hurts and he’s preparing for the worst because what else is there?

Jungkook was right, as usual. He’s not ready to hear that you’re in love with Yoongi. Even if you stay with him.

“Yeah,” you say and he looks down at your lips before he feels your hand against his cheek. Your thumb presses lightly against his chin in an effort to lift his gaze.

“No one had ever treated me like you did that night. I had never had a date like that where I didn’t want to leave and where I was respected,” you say and he can’t help how his heart reacts to that. You’re worth so much more than what he gave you on that date. You’re worth better food and better conversation.

He stays silent though because he doesn’t want to interrupt you. There’s a light somewhere deep in his chest that glows like some sort of mythical creature in a dark forest, guiding him out of it and toward the sun.

You are his sun.

“You treated me like I was worth something. Worth being paid attention to and like I was the most beautiful woman that you had ever seen.”

The part of him that wants to grip onto the thought of being unlovable hates how the corner of his mouth twitches upward at that. The way his eyes get just a little bit wider and how his heart beats wilder in his chest.

He hates Yoongi all over again. Hates him for being so stupid and not treating you the way that you should have been treated all those years when he had such a wonderful person as a friend. How he had just let that all go is beyond him and he thinks about how he wants to show you respect every single day for as long as you will let him.

A different part of him, the part that is filled with the boys laughter from school, chimes in and tells him he’s so fucking weak for being this much of a romantic.

He finally registers your face though, and the look on it ignites the fear all over again. You don’t have to say it for him to know. You do love Yoongi. You don’t need to say anything for Taehyung to know; but to his dismay you do.

“I wanted a love that was better than what he offered. I deserve a love that is better than all that.”

His heart breaks a little and he isn’t sure if it’s an empathetic break or his own. He kisses you though. Presses a kiss against the side of your mouth and lingers there just for a moment before he slips his hand against the back of your neck and pulls you into him gently. He releases you after a moment and nods. He looks at you, his gaze falling over your beautiful features. You are stunning.

He still can’t say it though.

The boy’s laughter builds again.

He’s a fucking coward for not being able to say it to you then and there. Because you have a love that is better than all that. He is in love with you so deeply that he thinks it hurts just a little.

“I’m sorry he hurt you,” he says softly as he realizes that he made your whole thing about him and he doesn’t want to do that. He’s trying to be better at that.

You curl into him and his heart beats so wildly in his chest that he thinks perhaps it will give everything away. The adrenaline spiking so fast through his veins makes him want to say it out loud. He doesn’t know how much longer he’ll be able to keep it in but he also knows that you’re not ready to hear him say it. You’re not ready for his love just yet, even though you say that you’re deserving of it, he doesn’t know if you’ll run after he tells you and he doesn’t want to experience that again. He can handle you loving someone else while he’s in love with you but he doesn’t want to watch you leave because he loves you.

He marvels, sometimes, at love a little when he’s alone in his room. How it makes him want to kiss you and keep this all to yourselves, and how it also makes him want to watch you be free and do whatever you want. The love he feels for you is unlike any previous love, because it mixes with the heartbreak and humiliation and tells him that he’ll be okay even if you leave him. Even if you leave him for Yoongi, he’ll be okay.

He doesn’t want to experience that though if he can help it.

“You deserve the best kind of love,” he whispers and slips his face into the crook of your neck as his fingers slip up your arm.

“I’d like a chance to fall in love with you,” you say and his heart leaps.

“What about Yoongi?”

There is a silence that feels like it draws a curtain over the whole apartment, locking the two of you into a prison, but he remains perfectly still until you answer.

YOU

You’re not sure how to say this without coming out as the villain. How do you tell someone you care so deeply about that you were once in love with Yoongi? That if you had a second chance that you would fall in love with him and you’re not sure how long it would last but that it might last forever.

“I think he’s in the past,” you say, instead because it’s the truth.

“You’ll let me know if that changes?”

You love him for that question and you nod.

Sometimes you think that Taehyung can read you in the same way that Yoongi was able to. He will do or say something that catches you so off guard but is exactly what you were thinking about and it makes you feel seen, as if you’re wearing a coat made out of the scariest vulnerability.

“What if we go away?”

You turn a little to face him.

“Where?”

He pushes himself up straighter and you watch as his gaze falls to your chest. The bra lays on the floor and you smile just a little as he shakes his head to try and get himself out of the trance of staring at your breasts through the thin cotton fabric.

“You mentioned your parents have a cabin, right? We could go there for a week or so. And you have that essay due. You could work on it up there. I’ll cook for you and we can just … take it easy,” he says softly as his fingers slip against your forearm and then his gaze falls to your hand as he slips his long fingers between yours. “Let it just be a week for us. We can talk about anything you want to talk about or we don’t have to talk at all. Just be together.”

You follow his gaze to your fingers and you watch as his fingers slip over yours. He has nicer hands than yours. You’ve always been a little self conscious about them, women who love women are supposed to have long fingers that will get the job done, but you have little fingers like your ex. Jimin had liked that you had short fingers like him but you like Taehyung’s fingers better. They are excellent and mesmerize you in so many ways.

“I would like that.”

YOONGI

He’s sitting on his sofa, the TV is on but he’s not really paying attention to it. Some cooking show is on. Or maybe it’s a travel show. A can of coke is in his hands and he stares at the TV but not at it. His mind is a million miles from where he is sitting.

It’s thinking about what he’s going to text you.

It’s been three days since he walked out of his therapist’s office and decided that maybe now is the time to text you and start up the conversation. He’s written several ways to start it in the notes app on his phone.

Hey, I miss you. Do you miss me?

Hi. I know that you might not want to hear from me but I’ve changed and I was wondering if maybe you would want to get together for a coffee.

I fucked up. I’m sorry that I fucked up so horribly. You were right. You deserve everything nice and not as fucked up as I am.

Hey, I was wondering if we could get together sometime.

He’s also written entire paragraphs of text telling you.

Hey. I am sorry. I might sound completely self indulgent in this, and for that I apologize, I think this needs to be said though and that’s why I’m writing this down now before texting you. I’m sorry that I pushed my feelings onto you at a grossly inappropriate time. It was selfish of me. The truth is though that you were right. I was only able to tell you everything I was feeling if I was inebriated. I had a problem. I think I will have a problem for the rest of my life. I don’t know if I’ll be able to ever drink again, or smoke weed again. It lets me be a fake kind of vulnerable. A vulnerability that is just all pretend and make believe. A way to fool myself that I am letting people in when I’m only just locking them out. I never wanted to do that with you. I wanted to let you in. I think I did, at times. Telling you things that I haven’t even told Jin about my family; but I’ve never let you in fully. For that, I apologize. You were right about that. You deserve someone who lets you in all the way. Who wants to let you in and is capable of doing so. Another truth is that I miss you. I miss you so much it feels like there is part of me that is missing. I don’t know if you and I will ever have a friendship that is the same and I have to be okay with that because it was my fault.

He doesn’t know if he will ever send them though. As he stares at the screen he thinks about another possibility. Just a simple “hey” and leave it at that. See where it goes, if it goes anywhere.

The thing that scares him the most,though is if it doesn’t go anywhere. And he knows that he can’t text you until he’s absolutely okay with that.

The front door and Jin steps out of his sliders before he walks into the kitchen and Yoongi finally breaks his stare and joins him. “If I, hypothetically, saw her, would you want to know?” Jin asks as he reaches into the bag and takes out the items that he’s bought for the week.

“Did you see her?” he asks, knowing full well that Jin has in fact seen you.

Jin nods. “Yes. She was at that newer cafe this morning when I was there for my meeting.”

Taehyung’s cafe. Yoongi knows which one.

“How is she?”

Jin smiles and then shrugs. “She said she was okay. Greeted me with a hug and told me that she misses me.”

There is silence in the kitchen and a piece of Yoongi wants to scream and ask if you mentioned him, but instead he takes the second bag and begins to unpack that.

“She said that she’s going away with her boyfriend for a week. Going to her parent’s cabin in the mountains.”

Again there is silence and Yoongi gives a little grunt of acknowledgement. Boyfriend. It was bound to happen and he’s not sure why there is even a part of him that is surprised.

“To be honest, Yoongi, she seemed sad. Like you, a little. You two always think you’re so good at hiding your emotions but it’s right there in your eyes giving every fucking thing away.”

Yoongi doesn’t stop what he’s doing. Jin is right. Though, he’s always right and it’s incredibly annoying. “Yoongi,” Jin says and looks at him. “Text her.”

Yoongi (21:45): Hey. I know it’s been a long time.

You (22:03): Hi. Yeah, it has been.

Yoongi (22:05): I’m sorry about that. I wanted to give you space.

You (22:05): I appreciate that.

Yoongi (22:06): Could we get together sometime for a coffee? There are some things that I want to tell you and I think it would be best if we did it in person and not over text.

You (22:08): I’m at my parent’s cabin for the next week, can it wait until I get back?

Yoongi (22:08): Yes.

You (22:35): If it’s important then I think it would be okay if you came up for lunch. I kind of want to spend this week relaxing and to be honest, I don’t know if I’ll be able to relax knowing that you want to tell me things.

Yoongi (22:40): You’d be okay with that?

You (22:41): Yes.

Yoongi (22:41): Tell me when and I’ll drive there.

You (22:57): What about the day after tomorrow? It will give you a day to write everything down that you want to say to me 😛

Yoongi (22:58): You know me too well. What time?

You (22:58): 1300?

Yoongi (22:59): Anything you want me to bring?

You (22:59): Just yourself.

Yoongi (23:00): I’ll be there. Just me. Have a good night. You (23:04): You too.

#min yoongi fanfic #kim taehyung fanfic #min yoongi x reader #kim taehyung x reader #min yoongi fic #kim taehyung fic #bts fanfction #bts fanfic #fic: starstruck

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mermaidxatxheart · 3 years

Text

Better Together Chapter 6

ok, I know it's been a while. I'm sorry for the long time in between posts. I'm working on several stories at once, or at least trying to, while also trying to get accustomed to a promotion and new job responsibilities at work. Thanks to everyone who's stuck with me. I really appreciate you all. My work is no to be reposted anywhere without my permission.

Pairing: Poe Dameron X Reader

Word Count: 4.9k

Warnings: Violence, panic, Poe being soft, Bryce being a dick. I think we can just assume that will be a permanent tag.

Series Master List

Chapter Five

You try to sit up with a strangled scream, but you end up bouncing your head off the plastic dome monitoring your vitals.

“Hey, it’s okay.” A voice to your left says. The voice is… familiar, but it’s not the one you really wanted to hear. But at the same time, you’re grateful you don’t hear that voice.

You roll your head to see Bryce, your boyfriend. He’s your boyfriend. He won’t hurt you. You can relax.

Why aren’t you relaxing?

“You’re safe now. Back home where you belong.” He says gently, reaching for your hand. You flinch away and he frowns, pausing.

“S-sorry.” You rasp, closing your eyes.

“It’s cool.” He lifts the dome and moves to get your clothes at the foot of the table. “Come on. Get dressed, we’ll get you something to eat.” He says, setting them next to you.

You try to speak again, but your voice is just as rough, only this time you don’t know if it’s from being quiet for so long, or the raw emotions destroying you. You clear your throat painfully. “H-how’s Poe?” You ask, nearly stuttering over his name.

“Dameron is fine. Been annoying all the women ever since he got back.” Bryce rolls his eyes. He doesn’t catch the way you shrink in on yourself as you sit up.

So, Poe doesn’t...want to...see you. The words struggle in your mind. He’s… he’s probably trying to forget what you did to him. No wonder he doesn’t want to see you.

“Can you step outside so I can get dressed?” You ask quietly.

“Babe, it’s not like I haven’t seen it before.” He says and you lower your head. “Fine. Just, don’t take too long. I’m starving.” He says, walking out and shutting the door loudly behind you. You jump at the sudden snap of it and squeeze your eyes shut.

You can’t handle the commissary right now. It’s always packed full of people, loud, claustrophobic. You carefully get dressed, trying not to notice all the new marks on your body. You’re careful of the fresh stitches covering your arms, legs, stomach, and back. Careful not to pull the bandages holding you together.

You’re dressed faster than you want to be, stepping carefully out of the room. It still doesn’t feel safe, it feels like you should be hiding. You tug the long sleeves down further, wishing you had more to cover you.

“Come on.” He slings his arm around your shoulders and you tense as the weight settles on you. “I missed you.” He says softly, but you don’t feel comforted by his words. They turn to ice in your veins. He practically has to drag you along, your nerves stretching and spiking with each step, with every noise.

“I-I’m not hungry.” You protest, trying to dig your heels in. You can hear the loud room from here.

“Y/N, you have to eat.” He says firmly.

“N-n—“ you stammer, trying to push away from him. He sighs and scoops you up over his shoulder, carrying you along easily. Pain flares through you as your stitches pull. He’s not careful with you. Either he doesn’t know, or he doesn’t care. You try to struggle, you don’t care if he drops you. At least then you could get away.

“Y/N, I swear to the Maker, stop struggling. These are your friends. They want to know you’re okay.”

“What if I’m not?” You snap, the fear boiling over. You want to go to your room. You want to hide. You want to be alone. You want Poe.

He stops and considers for a minute before continuing on. “You can’t hide forever, Y/N.”

“Bryce, please, please!”

He walks inside and sets you down none too gently in a chair at a table full of people. “Look who’s finally awake.” He says loudly. Your teeth jar, biting down on your tongue from the abrupt impact.

There are five whole heartbeats where everyone is just staring at you. Something claws its way up your throat in the eerie silence, and then everything just explodes.

Voices, chairs moving, hands touching you, patting you on the shoulder, or touching your leg. The lights get too bright, you can’t see anything. You feel like they’re all climbing on top of you, too much weight. You can’t breathe. You try to suck in a breath, but it’s like your lungs won’t expand.

You bolt.

You’re not proud of it, but you shove through all the people and fly for the door. Blind twists and turns down hallways you don’t remember seeing, and couldn’t remember in the moment. You can barely hear your name being shouted behind you, but you can’t stop, can’t look back. You just know you’ve ripped stitches in your thighs, and stomach. You don’t care. Your only thought is escape. Hyper flight mode.

A hand grabs you from the darkness, pulling you in and pinning you against the wall. You fight, slapping and hitting against your assailant as you sob, gasping raggedly.

“Y/N! It’s me, stop it!!” Poe shouts, grabbing your wrists. “It’s Poe, it’s me. Stop.” He says, holding your hands against his chest until you stop fighting him.

You think you gasp his name, your legs give out on you and you sink to your knees in front of him, sobbing. He doesn’t let go of your wrists, just loosens his grip. Relief washes through you as you realize who it is.

“Breathe. Just breathe. Big, slow breaths for me, sweetheart.” He whispers, slowly kneeling in front of you.

“P-Poe—“

“I know. Sh, it’s okay. I’m right here.” He wraps his arms around you tightly, hugging you to him.

He shouldn’t be doing this for you, not after everything you put him through. Guilt roils through you, choking off your air. You start to pull away but he doesn’t let go. His fingers braid in your disheveled hair and you can’t help but sink into him a little more.

“I’m so sorry, sweetheart. I’m so sorry I wasn’t there when you woke up. I wanted to be.” He exhales in a rush, burying his face in your hair.

“Why—why would you want that?” You hiccup, keeping your face away from him.

“Because you’re my best friend? Why would you think I wouldn’t want to be there?”

“B-because,” you try taking a deep breath.

He seems to realize that you’re shivering on the cold ground. “Let’s get out of here. Do you wanna go back to medbay or your room?” He asks, easing you out of his arms and standing up.

You hesitate, suddenly not knowing how to ask him to stay. It’s selfish, you know it is, after everything you’ve put him through, to want him to suffer even longer.

“I don’t think I was actually discharged.” You mumble, pulling yourself to your feet on your own. It’s a massive effort.

He makes a noise in the back of his throat and steps to the door. He looks up and down the hallway before looking back at you. “It’s all clear.”

“I don’t even know what part of the complex I’m in.” You admit, dropping your head back. In the forest, you knew exactly where to go. But on a planet you’ve called home for how long? You’re lost.

Useless.

“Okay. Come on.” He holds out his hand and you’re so tempted to take it. But you don’t. Instead, you walk to the door with him and carefully slip out without touching him. You’ve done enough damage.

He follows after a small minute and leads you down the hallway. “You never answered my question.” He starts suddenly and you look up at him. His face has too many cuts, a deep bruise under his eye, a split lip. It hurts you to look at him. More guilt.

It’s your fault.

You could pretend to be ignorant. Not remember the question to stall for time. Claim sudden hearing loss. But you never could lie to him, and you don’t want to start now. You know exactly what question.

“I didn’t think you would want to be there. Not when this whole thing is my fa-fault.” You mumble, your voice cracking on the last word. You hate yourself for putting him through this. You hate yourself for feeling like a damsel in distress and not being able to fight back the way you should have.

He stops walking and stares at you. His forehead crinkled in confusion.

“You think—“ he starts, his voice incredulous, but is promptly cut off by a medical droid beeping angrily at you.

“Yeah, got it. Back to bed.” You mumble, taking one last look at a stunned Poe before following the droid the rest of the way.

The droid gets you back into a medical bed, looking almost as if it wants to restrain you to keep you there. You clutch your hands to your chest, not wanting to be restrained.

“I won’t go anywhere.” You promise. The droid beeps and rolls away, the door sliding shut behind it. You cross your legs and lay back, wincing at the pull in your ribs. On the list of things that hurt, the ribs are kind of low. But they’re drawing the most attention at the moment. The droid comes back after a moment, making quick work of fixing your stitches, hopefully for the last time. It rolls away and you’re left in agonizing silence. You stare at the ceiling, counting the cracks.

The door opens again and Leia walks in. You freeze, wondering what she could possibly want from you. Poe’s words flash through your mind. Do you think Leia is sobbing uncontrollably right now? She certainly looks tired, but not necessarily like she was heartbroken that you were gone for… for… you can’t remember how long you were in that place. You break out into a sweat. What else have you forgotten?

“Y/N,” she starts solemnly. “I’m so glad you’re back with us and awake.” She sits on the edge of your bed and you don’t know if this is protocol or not. Is it normal? You don’t say anything, you simply wait for her to continue, she’ll get to her point eventually. “Poe told me about what happened, I’d like your report as well, whenever you feel up to it. I know you must still be exhausted.” She says.

So, all business.

She probably didn’t even notice you weren’t there.

You nod once. You can be all business, too. “I’ll have it for you by tomorrow.” You say and she blinks.

“I didn’t mean—“

“You need it. You’ll have it.”

“Poe told me you were incredibly brave.” She says, watching your face as she speaks. She’s clearly looking for something.

“He—“ you cut off. You had been about to say that he exaggerates, or was lying. But then she would think that she can’t trust her most loyal commander. She slowly arches an eyebrow as you struggle to think. “He’s too kind. I was terrified. Did more harm than good.”

“Hmm. Well, in any case. I know you’re still healing. Bacta is useful, but it can’t heal everything overnight. Get some rest.” She stands up. “And,” she pauses and turns back to you. “If you need to talk, about anything at all, I’m here to listen.” She says pointedly. You nod once and she heads for the door, stopping only long enough for it to hiss open.

You slump back against the pillows, gritting your teeth against the sudden pain. It’s odd how sometimes you don’t feel it at all, and other times it’s all you can feel. You feel like you’ve been going nonstop for days and days. You need to think, to rest. You need to stand up to Bryce next time. You’re not just a scientist, you’re a damn good pilot-only second to Poe, and you’re one of the best shots on base. He can’t just push you around like he did.

You need to think, sort out what was real and what was panic. You close your eyes and try to hold as still as possible. The faces are the faces of your friends, this isn’t some First Order trick. They aren’t trying to hurt you.

But… then… Why was Poe shouting when he got off the ship? Something was wrong. Something was very wrong. Maybe you really are losing your mind.

The door hisses open and you jerk upright, instantly grabbing your side. Bryce tosses his jacket onto the chair next to your bed and crosses his arms, turning slowly to glare at you.

“Was that fun for you? You made me look like an idiot out there.” He snaps and you want to hurl something heavy at his head.

“I don’t want to talk to you right now. I’m tired.” You say, wishing there was a more final way to say that, like shutting a door in his face.

“You just slept for three days!” He shouts, throwing his hands up.

“Get. Out!” You shove yourself off your bed, ignoring the screaming pain in your ribs and back. “Get the fucking fuck out! I told you I wasn’t kriffing ready but you didn’t fucking listen. You never fucking listen! I just want some peace. Maker!” You shove him backwards through the door, bouncing it off its track. You feel the pop in your wrist, burning hot pain flares up your arm. “For once in your life, try to see things from someone else’s perspective.” You snap, going back into your room.

“Whoa, hey. I’m sorry, okay?”

You pick up the heavy decoration on the side table and throw it as hard as you can. If he hadn’t moved his stupidly perfect head, it would have hit him right in the face. Unfortunately, he does move and it crashes into the floor behind him, breaking into pieces. Good, more ammo for next time.

“I don’t want to hear your apologies! I want. To be. Alone!”

He holds up his hands and backs down the hallway. You walk around to the other side of the bed, sinking to the floor so that no one will see you. Your hands are trembling as you try to breathe. Your sides begin to ache for another reason altogether, and you realize you aren’t even breathing because you’re trying not to cry.

You let out a ragged gasp, covering your face in humiliation. Rocking forward, you rest your face on the ground, letting yourself hurt with every silent sob. You deserve all the pain. A curious beep reaches your ears and you cover your mouth, forcing yourself to keep quiet. You know, somewhere in the back of your mind, you need to get your new injuries checked out. You definitely did damage to your wrist. You feel a droid roll to a stop next to you, but you're not under control yet.

They beep softly again and nudge you with their big round base. You lift your head to see the familiar orange and white pattern of Poe’s droid, BB8. He rotates his lens up to look at you, and somehow, despite being metal and made of parts, he shows sympathy, worry, concern. He wants to know if you’re okay, if his friend is okay. Your vision goes blurry as your eyes flood with tears all over and he rolls forward, nestling right against your chest. You grip his headpiece, lowering your forehead against it and resting there, shoulders shaking and stomach cramping from the uncomfortable position. But you can’t bring yourself to move just yet.

***

Your head slips to the side and you jerk up, hitting your head against the edge of your bed. BB8 looks up at you, bless his circuit board. He would have stayed there with you for hours if you hadn’t woken yourself up. You wipe your tears and drool off his head.

“Sorry, buddy.” You whisper, voice not wanting to go higher than that. “You should get back to Poe. I’m sure he’s looking for you.”

His head tilts, question unasked in the quiet air.

“I’ll be okay. Thank you, for checking on me, I mean.”

He beeps a rapid-fire and rolls away in search of his master, or is friend a better description at this point? You twist, pulling yourself up and seeing Bryce sitting on the floor in the hallway. His eyes are closed as he rests his head against the wall.

With a sigh, you page for a med droid to come in and check on you. You lay back on your bed, closing your eyes while you wait. You didn’t mean to fall asleep on the poor droid.

Your wrist is checked out and bound. Already on the edge of breaking, shoving your stupid boyfriend pushed it over the edge. The droid tsks about not getting it taken care of right away before wheeling away.

“Can I come in now?” Bryce asks from the hallway.

“No. I’m still mad.” You reply, rolling over. It’s cool in here, settling in your bones in an unfamiliar way. You reach towards the end of the bed for a blanket before you realize there isn’t one there. With a huff, you get up and look around for one with no success.

“What are you looking for?” He asks, pushing himself up with a quiet grunt.

“A blanket. I’m freezing.” You reply, digging through the supply locker in the room.

“I’ll go get you one.” He turns around and disappears, leaving you to settle back down. You can hear those familiar beeps coming down the hallway and that voice you’ve come to depend on since you were taken follows it.

“Yeah, buddy, I know. Always rubbing it in.” Poe sighs.

Bryce comes back, spreading a heavy blanket over you before stepping back awkwardly. “Thanks. I’m sure you have something you need to be doing, Bryce. I’ll be here.” You say, more gently this time and he presses a tender kiss to your forehead.

“I’ll come see you after my shift. We’ll talk then and you can yell at me all you want, okay?” He promises.

You nod, laying your head down on the pillow as he leaves. You can see his shoulders tense as he sees Poe coming towards him. You can hear the little droid beeping in outrage but Poe shushes him.

“Is she awake?” He asks.

“She’s resting. You shouldn’t be here, anyway. Haven’t you done enough, Dameron?” Bryce snaps.

What? No. He’s not to blame! You are!

“Bryce. Go to work.” You call and he looks over his shoulder at you, unable to get rid of the coldness completely before he turns on his heel and storms off.

Poe waits until he can’t see him anymore before coming into your room. “Hi.” He says after a minute and your lips twitch.

“Hi.”

“Have a good nap?” He asks as BB8 chirps next to him.

“Sorry, I didn’t mean to keep him here for so long.” You mumble.

Poe snorts. “He’s not sorry, bragged about it for at least ten minutes.” He rolls his eyes and you scoot over on the bed carefully. He eases himself down and takes your newly bandaged hand. “What happened?” He asks with a frown.

“I wasn’t careful. Typical me.” You scoff derisively.

He’s quiet for a long time, his handsome face going through a wide range of emotions as he traces the outline of your fingers. The feeling of it is relaxing, soothing you. Everything about him is comforting, just like he’s always been. Even though you don’t deserve his compassion, his forgiveness.

“Poe,” you start, capturing his hand, even though you could conceivably let him keep doing that forever.

“I have so many things I want to say to you.” He starts, his voice crumpled.

You take a deep breath and nod, steeling yourself for the inevitable. It’s going to hurt, it will break your heart, but he should say it. Tell you he hates you for kissing him, for distracting him, for getting him caught, and all the terrible things that came after it.

“You sa-said before that this is all your fault.” He starts, his eyes very firmly on your hands wrapped around his.

“Because it is.” You answer and his beautiful brown eyes squeeze shut.

“How can you even think that?” His voice cracks and you’ve never seen him so close to tears before. This is the man that’s perpetually in a good mood, everything is an opportunity to make you laugh. Even in the face of certain harm, he’s making jokes.

“Poe, I distracted you. I—“ you glance at the door to look for potential eavesdroppers. “In the river, I ki—“

He covers your mouth softly. You could easily pull his hand away, but you don’t. “We were on a planet where the most dangerous thing was supposed to be a giant butterfly. There was no way to know, no indication of anyone else being on the planet. You didn’t do anything wrong, sweetheart.” He says. You can hear the sincerity in his voice, but you can’t stop the feeling that he’s wrong. You did everything wrong. “And… we don’t have to… to talk about that thing in the river… if you don’t want to.” He stammers, scratching at the back of his neck.

You want to. You want to do it again. But you can’t. Your fingers flex in his before pulling them back against your torso, cutting off all touch with his warm body.

“Leia came to see me earlier.” You change the subject without giving him an answer. You’re not ready to close the book yet, but you can’t open it yet, either.

“Yeah. I gave my debrief.” He says, sounding a little deflated.

“You lied.” You correct and his head snaps up.

“What?”

“You told her I was brave. That was a big, fat lie.” You say and he rolls his eyes.

“You’re impossible.” He takes your hand again. His touch is feather-light, soft, and delicate as he strokes the back of your hand, following the length of your fingers.

“I don’t think she cried.” You say suddenly and he looks up at you.

“Come again?”

“You asked if I thought Leia sobbed uncontrollably while we were gone. I don’t think she even got a stuffy nose.” Your voice turns dark, your secret angry thought slipping out before you can stop it.

“You think she didn’t care?” Poe asks.

“Did you find out how long we were gone?”

“Yeah. Three weeks.” He says, practically choking on it.

“Two weeks over what we were supposed to be gone. You don’t think that’s odd? She didn’t send anyone after her best pilot?”

“Y/N, she has a lot of different responsibilities, to more than just us. We had no contact with anyone prior. How would they have found us? They didn’t have our information yet. They would have been just as lost as we were.” He reasons.

“Ground exploration on a new planet should have more than two people. No matter how good one of them is.” You pull your hand back, angry now.

You don’t want to be angry, not with Poe, of all people. But you can’t stop yourself. He’s rolling over and playing lapdog for his perfect princess, same as he always does. Your cheeks burn with anger.

Hurt crosses his face, his hands suspended where they were. “Both. She sent two of her best people. She sent you, and me because we work so well together. Because we could get it done much faster, quieter, better than anyone else on this base.” He says and your heart wavers.

You don’t want to cause him any more pain. You take a shaky breath. “I’m sorry, I think I just need sleep.” The words sound stiff, forced.

“Do you want me to stay?” He asks, but you shake your head.

“No. I’m just gonna catch a few hours and then get to work on the report for Leia.”

“No, I already did that.” He corrects.

“She asked me for one.”

“I debriefed so you wouldn’t have to go through it again.” He clenches his hands. “I’ll take care of it.” He promises.

“I don’t mind. It might give her a better idea of what a rotten liar you are.” You say, trying to joke.

“I didn’t lie.” He huffs, leaning down and pressing the softest kiss to your forehead. “I’ll leave BB8 with you if you need anything. Come find me when you wake up?”

“Promise.” Your voice cracks at just the wrong moment and he stills, looking down at you.

“I can stay. Just like in the cave.” He offers.

“Go away.”

He gives your hand a gentle squeeze and stands up. “What happened to the door?” He asks.

“I shoved Bryce through it.” You admit and he breaks out into a grin.

“That’s my girl.” He praises before walking through it.

You have to stop yourself from calling him back, from begging him to stay with you. It’s not that you don’t trust anyone else here, they are your friends. But, Poe would understand. He knows what you went through, he understands what it was like. He won’t judge you for being upset. When you lost your temper with him just now, he didn’t get mad, he talked you down.

No, Poe Dameron understands better than anyone what emotions you’re going through right now. He goes through them on a daily basis and has for a long time.

***

You can’t look at him. Every time you do, another wave of guilt threatens to drown you. You kissed him. You kissed him. You have a boyfriend back home, missing you and you went and kissed your best friend. And worse, got said best friend captured by the enemy.

Now, he’s furious with you. Hasn’t said a word in hours. You can’t remember the last thing he said. Did he shush you? Was it your name? You can’t remember. Tears blur your vision as you try to twist your face away from him.

“Shit. Y/N,” he starts. “Hey, it’s gonna be okay. I’ll get us out of this.” He promises.

And just the fact that he thinks that’s what you’re upset about is blindingly frustrating. And that he feels the need to fix your fuck up.

“Why don’t they just kill us?” You ask, forcing the tears not to fall.

“They probably want information on the Resistance.” He clenches his jaw. “Y/N, I never wanted to have to say this to you, but no matter what they do to you, you can’t talk. You can’t tell them anything.” He pleads.

You nod. “Okay. I won’t say anything.” You promise weakly. The idea of being tortured is so out of your realm, you don’t know what to expect. But Poe seems to know something at the very least.

He curses again and you look back at his face. “I promise. I promise I’ll get us out of this.” He thrashes against the metal restraints on the upright table and you worry he’s going to hurt himself.

“I’ll be okay, Poe.” You whisper, but he squeezes his eyes shut.

The door behind you opens and a StormTrooper walks in. You can’t tell if it’s one of the same ones from the forest, but it doesn’t matter. This one is carrying a tray with a cloth covering it.

“Ready to begin?” He asks, voice modulated to fit your nightmares. “Where is your base of rebel scum?” He asks, slowly removing the cloth and picking up a thin blade. He turns towards Poe, sliding the knife under the silver chain around your partner’s neck. His mother’s ring, beautiful as it glints in the light, slowly rotates into view. Poe struggles slightly, giving his restraints another hard yank, but he gets nowhere. The stormtrooper curls his fingers around it, tugging and popping the chain free. He tosses it into the dank corner and it disappears from view. Poe snarls until the trooper lifts the glittering knife again and turns his helmet towards you. You can feel him studying you, sizing you up.

“I said, where is your base of rebel scum?”

Poe looks over at you, and you can see the worry in his eyes. Will he start with you? Or with Poe? When neither of you answers, he turns and slashes out at your best friend. You cry out, thinking he cut his throat, but instead, there’s a small cut on his cheekbone.

“I haven’t got anywhere to be. Let’s begin again.” He says evenly and your stomach clenches uncomfortably.

***

You sit up with a ragged gasp, clutching at your face. Blindly, you find the medical droid and sign yourself out, grabbing the blanket and heading through the halls for the one person you want to see. BB8 rolls after you, chirping quietly. You feel for the chain in your pocket, the weight of it is comforting.

You knock quietly on the door. It’s so late, you shouldn’t be here. The door slides open and he's there in front of you, exhausted and very much alive. He holds out his arms and you step easily into them, heartbeat finally settling.

Poe.

He walks you back inside and lays down on his bed without a single word. No teasing, no jokes. Just him being there for you like always. You wait until he’s comfortable before crawling into bed next to him and laying down, your head resting against his chest.

“I’m sorry.” You mumble.

“Sh. Go to sleep. I’m here.” He says gently, his big, warm hands rubbing your back.

Chapter 7

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