#i tried rendering it and uh. no comment. so after sitting on it for a week im letting it go

[nastronde]

do you feel guilty?

#persona #persona 2 #tatsuya suou #nyarlathotep #my shit #i tried rendering it and uh. no comment. so after sitting on it for a week im letting it go #how do you think tatsuya feels knowing hes responsible for the suffering of so many including the people he loved too much to forget? #lol...

[everythingfan589]

A Work In Progress

Chapter 4: Don’t Make Me Regret This

Warnings: Canon-typical violence

Word Count: 6.6k

Masterlist

Not long after saying goodbye to Kuiil and informing the Mandalorian that you would be taking the job, you were boarding the Razor Crest, stepping off the sand of Arvala-7 for the last time. Before leaving, you had packed up a small rucksack with clothes and other items you would need that you doubted the Mandalorian had lying around.

With your rucksack and rifle, you followed him up to the cockpit and looked down through the window at Kuiil who waved farewell before you were being told to sit and fasten your seat belt.

As you sit behind Mando, strapped in and ready, you feel the nerves creep up your chest. This is really happening. You’re leaving Arvala-7 and you’re going to be travelling the galaxy. It’s terrifying and exhilarating at the same time.

The planet starts getting farther and farther away until finally you can look up and see the stars. They reflect in your eyes一wide with wonder一as they scatter across the black abyss.

“I assume you’ve never travelled in hyperspace.” Mando’s gruff voice says and you snap out of your trance, almost forgetting he was there.

“N-No.” Part of you starts to worry now that it’s becoming real. The thought of floating through space is daunting, nothing secure about it.

“If you feel sick一the fresher is down below.” You frown at his words, never having considered if travelling light speed would make you sick.

You don’t have a chance to ponder the thought as with the flick of a couple of switches and the push of a leaver, the ship jumps forward, stars racing past and extending across the window.

You’re pushed back into your seat during the acceleration, the wind completely knocked out of you and rendering you speechless. It’s only when Mando turns his head slightly to check on you do you remember you need to breathe.

Bad idea.

Well, a good idea because you need oxygen but the moment you breathe in you feel like you could throw up. You close your eyes, not wanting to embarrass yourself or ruin your first day in space一so you wait for it to pass.

Eventually一it does.

Breathing out shakily, you open your eyes and look up through the window of the cockpit. Long strings of light scatter above your head一completely still and yet moving a trillion miles an hour. It’s beautiful and you’re not sure how long you stare up at it before Mando breaks the silence.

“I’ll be gone for long periods of time.” His words confuse you at first一you look down from the stars to the back of his head一but you quickly realize he’s talking about his job. “You’ll be here on the ship. Keep it functional, make improvements where necessary. You have full jurisdiction一within reason.”

“Sounds fun.” You comment, noticing how the stars reflect on his helmet.

“If you plan on leaving the ship for whatever reason一you tell me.”

“Understood.”

“Can you pilot?” The question nearly makes you laugh but you quickly push it down.

“Uh...never tried.” You answer honestly and he nods once.

“You will.” His states surely and you’re glad he can’t see you right now一the idea of flying a spaceship is terrifying.

“I, uh, fix things一make them even一I don’t fly.” You try to keep your voice level, not wanting to sound pathetic.

“I’ll teach you.” His tone doesn't leave any room for objection so instead, you settle with silence, looking back up at the stars.

After flipping a couple of switches, he pushes back from the console in front of him, obviously he just put it into autopilot. He turns to look at you and you desperately hope your face isn't flushed.

“Where are we going first?” You ask optimistically, thrilled to be travelling to a new planet for the first time. You wonder if it has trees, or mountains, or waterfalls一you’ve only ever heard stories about waterfalls.

“Nevarro.” He says while looking from you over to the sleeping baby.

“Nevarro.” You repeat to yourself, unable to wipe the grin from your face.

You have no idea what's on Nevarro, but you can’t wait to see it. The helmet turns to face you again, tilting slightly as he watches the stars reflect in your eyes.

“You seem...excited.” He almost sounds confused at your eagerness, likely due to the fact that he’s been travelling the galaxy his whole life, there's no longer anything special about travelling at light speed and bouncing from planet to planet.

“I am. I’ve never seen the galaxy before.” He remains silent at your answer, but you feel his eyes lingering on you until a soft coo comes from the crib beside you two. Both of your heads turn at the same time to stare at the kid who slowly sits up, looking around in confusion.

“Hi, baby.” You whisper, unlocking your seatbelt now that the hyperspace is keeping the ship level. You lean towards him, holding your finger out for him to grab in comfort一Mando doesn't stop you. “Did you have a good sleep?”

The baby starts to blab nonsense as if he’s answering your question and you nod along一pretending to understand every word. You know that Mando is watching you, but you continue to indulge the baby who seems very determined in his gurgles.

“Well, it better have been一you were out for almost a week.” You respond, watching his ears turn up as you talk to him. “I know.”

“It’s probably hungry.” You look up at Mando, nodding once in agreement before suddenly, the console starts beeping. He turns around to face it, flipping a switch which results in a small blue hologram rising up on the dashboard.

“Mando! I’ve received your transmission. Wonderful news.” The hologram is of a quite intimidating-looking man with his hands on his hips. “Upon your return, deliver the quarry directly to the client. I have no idea if he wants to eat it or hang it on his wall, but he’s very antsy.”

As if an ice bath was just poured down your back一you freeze. The words of the mysterious man make you sicker than the jump into hyperspace and you turn to look at Mando who hasn't moved one inch since the words were spoken.

Is this the kind of man you agreed to work for?

“Safe passage! You know where to find me.” With that, the hologram disappears and the cockpit is reduced to a deafening silence.

“Who the hell was that?” Suddenly terrified for the little green baby, you ask the only question you can muster.

“Karga. He...works for the Guild.” Mando finally speaks, something different in his voice.

“You don’t think…” You trail off, composing yourself. “You don’t think they’re actually going to...eat him, right?” You whisper the last part, not wanting the baby to hear一even if he can’t understand.

When the Mandalorian doesn't answer you sit back in your chair with a huff, not believing your current situation.

“That’s not a toy.” You look up to see Mando taking a small silver ball the baby had unscrewed from the console.

You stand up, reaching forward and lifting the baby before it can make a fuss. You place him on your lap as you sit down, a sudden urge to protect it from what lies ahead, but you know you’re no match for the bounty hunter in front of you who plans on returning him to the highest bidder.

Instead of staying in the cockpit with the man you’re suddenly feeling thousands of miles away from, you hold the child in your arms, standing to leave the small room.

The door opens the moment you walk towards it, Mando doing nothing to stop you as you lower yourself into the hull of the ship.

Sitting yourself in the corner of the dark hull, you place the child on the floor in front of you, looking down at him curiously.

“You’ll be fine.” You say to him and his head turns up to look at you, ears perking up to your soft voice. “There is no way anyone could harm a hair on your wrinkly little head.”

He makes a quiet sound of reply as if agreeing with you before climbing into your lap and sitting down. You stay like that for a while, basking in the silence of the hull一hyperspace is intensely quiet you’re coming to realize一it’s quite peaceful.

“Are you hungry?” You ask him once he starts to fuss in your lap. Picking him up and holding him on your hip, you look around the hull, trying to figure out where Mando would keep his food.

You eventually find a crate with a couple of foil bags. You open one and realize they are each filled with a single portion of preserved dry sealed meat.

You sit yourself back on the floor, feeding him little bits of the meat until he’s satisfied一even trying a piece for yourself. It’s not as bad as you thought一nearly flavourless but decent enough.

Eventually, the ship slows down, rocking the hull slightly. The silence of hyperspace is replaced with the rumble of the outside world, indicating you’re approaching your destination. Part of you is thrilled to touch ground, but the other part dreads letting the child go.

You should've listened to Mando on day one一don’t get attached.

When the ship jerks to the side then goes completely still, you assume you’ve come to a land一the sound of Mando’s boots approaching the ladder to the hull confirming your guess. He climbs down a step or two before dropping the rest of the way, landing on his feet perfectly.

He turns to spot you in the corner with the satisfied baby before grabbing his rifle from the side of the hull, strapping it to his back.

“I won’t be long.” He says, emotionless, building that strong brick wall that you spent the last week trying to break down. You stand, placing the baby inside the crib following Mando.

“Bye for real this time.” You mumble, patting him on the head before looking up at Mando. “I was planning on looking around a bit.”

“Not here.” You frown at his dismissal, not understanding why he wouldn't want you on this planet.

“W-Why?”

“Nevarro is not the kind of planet I would be comfortable letting you wander alone.” He answers you and while you’re extremely disappointed, you agree一maybe it’s not a nice planet一you’d like your first new planet to be a nice one.

The only glimpse of the planet you get is when Mando opens the hatch to leave一it’s sandy like back home but darker, many stone buildings scattered around一much more populated than home. You watch as they descend the ramp, crossing your arms sadly as the green baby floats away for the last time.

You see Mando touch something on his arm before the hatch starts to close on itself, concealing you inside his ship.

Great.

Full jurisdiction. You roll the words over in your head, soaking in the daunting task. This whole ship lies in your two mechanics hands一you’ve never been responsible for something so big.

The fact that the Mandalorian was so quick to trust you with his ship almost surprises you. You guess after helping rebuild the entire thing for free, you proved yourself competent and trustworthy.

That doesn't stop you from snooping though.

It’s not like you’re going through his personal belongings, not that he really has anything personal on this ship. Everything here stands for a functional purpose, nothing appearing to be sentimental一granted, if he’s gone as often as he says he is, there's no reason for the ship to be particularly comfortable.

But now you live here too. This is going to be your home for the next...however long you have this job, and you plan on doing it well.

You start by looking through the hull一large but fairly empty. You walk to the back of the ship where two metal doors stand closed with a button panel in the middle.

Curious, you press one of the buttons一nothing happens一you press another一one of the doors hisses open to reveal the refresher Mando was talking about.

You stick your head in to see a simple toilet, sink, and shower. They’re small一part of you is surprised they’re functional at all for him as he’s nearly twice your size. You press the same button again, closing the door before pressing yet another.

This time, the door beside it opens, revealing what appears to be a bed inside the wall. It’s narrow and dark, a single thin blanket thrown on top but no pillow in sight一is this what he sleeps on? No wonder he’s so stiff all the time.

After closing it, you move on to the opposite wall that has metal double doors. Looking around, there’s no panel in sight. Not sure what else to do, you hit the door with your fist, you laugh to yourself at your stupidity, but一it opens.

It’s an armoury.

Dozens of weapons hang on the wall of the concealment, all of varying sizes and function. You’re not surprised a man of his profession and status would have so much一you remember seeing a couple of these being loaded when fixing his ship on Arvala-7, but you didn't really pay attention since you spent most of your time on the exterior of the ship.

You try to stop yourself from reaching out to touch one一but it’s too late.

Without a conscience to stop you, your fingers drift across the surface of one of the blasters gently, feeling the hard metal shape of the impressive weapon. Eventually, you draw back, closing the armoury and stepping away一it’s probably the most personal thing in this entire ship.

You spend the next few hours looking around lazily, just trying to pass the time and get used to your new surroundings. You also consider where you’ll be sleeping. There are not many options, but you settle on a corner of the ship at the back of the hull, placing your bag in the corner一claiming it as your spot.

You’re not exactly sure how long Mando has been gone. You tried to distract your mind, which proved easy considering there were so many thoughts present一the excitement of new worlds, the fear of the unknown...and the strange feeling you had around Mando back on Arvala-7.

You probably wouldn't have pondered it if you weren't given such time to do so. Even without eyes or a face to connect with, every time his visor turned to look at you一you felt something. When he asked about your arm, there was something different in his voice, something he didn't even understand either.

All of this is just so new.

The sound of metal on metal wakes you up. It comes from the side of the ship that harbours a large lowering door. You didn't mean to fall asleep, but after sitting in your chosen corner and waiting however many hours he was gone, it came against your will.

You stand up quickly, not wanting to be caught sleeping on the job on your first day一even though you just spent that past week fixing this ship and there's not much to do presently.

The heavy and familiar sound of Mando’s boots walks up the ramp and appears at the entrance of the ship.

The first thing you notice is his armour.

It’s shiny.

Not only is it incredibly shiny and silver一it’s not dented or misshapen in any way. There is no possible way that the armour he wears before you is the same he was wearing the last time he was on this ship. Even his helmet has been polished to match the shine of his new armour.

You quickly realize this must be a result of him being paid for giving up the child. The realization is partly saddening一he followed through with it一not that you had any hope that he wouldn't. Nothing about this Mandalorian screams unreliable when it comes to returning bounties.

“Hey.” You mutter, not sure how else to greet the man in front of you一partly intimidated by him with the new armour.

He only nods in response, barely giving you a look as he closes the hatch to the ship. You know he’s not a very talkative person, roughly bordering on unfriendly, but you still notice something different about him. It’s like he’s been rendered silent, instead of remaining stoic upon his own free will.

“Is everything okay?” You feel stupid asking but you’re not sure what else to say as he walks over to his armoury, opening it to put away his rifle. Once he finishes, he finally turns to face you for the first time, arm reaching down to pull something from his utility belt.

You're not exactly sure what it is一it being smaller than his hand and therefore hard to see as he pulls it out. But, as he holds his hand out for you to take it, you see that it’s two small pieces of rounded metal in oval shapes. You turn the pieces over in your hands curiously before he speaks.

“For your arms.” You frown at the vague explanation before he reaches forward and grabs the forearm of yours that wasn't injured. He takes one of the pieces from your hand and slips it in between the leather of your forearm bracers一you realize their function. “Think of it as your first payment.”

“Thank you.” He proceeds to help you by putting the second piece under the leather of your other arm gently.

You’re touched at the thought一he remembered you using your forearms to block, the simple leather not helping protect you.

“It’s beskar.” He says and you freeze, turning up to look at him in shock before your gaze shifts to his new armour一his armour which looks exactly the same as the two pieces of metal he just gave you.

“Really? I mean一are you sure? This is...too much.” You scramble to find the words to express how appreciative you are while also understanding the meaning behind the offer.

From the stories told to you by Kuiil, you know how important the metal is to Mandalorian culture, so for him to gift it to you一even as small a piece of it as he did is huge.

“You need to be able to defend yourself.” He says, offering you nothing more than that.

Confusion would be an understatement to describe how you’re feeling. How can this man be so distant and apathetic, and yet be so thoughtful the next second?

“Well...thank you.” You smile appreciatively, him giving a short nod in response before turning to head to the cockpit. Something tells you he wants to get far away from this planet, already expressing to you his distaste for it.

Feeling your improved bracers, you settle yourself back into the corner of the hull, knowing Mando is going to take off momentarily. You feel the engines rumble to life, the ground beneath you becoming distant. You think nothing of it, knowing it will be a couple of minutes before you’re far enough away from the planet to enter hyperspace.

But, suddenly, the entire hull rocks, knocking you back into the wall一hard.

Your hand shoots up to cradle the back of your head, flinching at the sudden action the ship made.

What the hell?

You move to stand and check on Mando but with another lurch, you’re knocked over, the ship coming to a very abrupt land.

“Ouch! Maker, what th一” You mumble to yourself, recovering from being thrown around the hull of the Razor Crest until you spot Mando lowering himself down the ladder. “What happened?” You ask frantically, hoping nothing is wrong with the ship一that would be bad on your part.

When he doesn't answer you一walking over to the armoury and grabbing his rifle again一you start to worry.

“Mando? What’s going on? What are you一”

“I’m going back.” His answer is brief, pressing something on his arm to open the door to the ship.

“Back? Back where?”

“To get the kid.” You’re not sure what you were expecting but it wasn’t that.

Hope blossoms in your chest at his words, a million questions rushing to the surface but instead of questioning his heroic actions, you step forward confidently.

“I’m coming with you.” You state and you almost miss the scoff that passes through the modulator.

“No.” He leaves no room for argument but you push anyway.

“Come on! I can help, like I did the first time we got him一” He cuts you off by turning to look at you, the quick action stealing the air right from your lungs.

“No.” His voice is firm, powerful. “These aren't some back-street nikto mercenaries anymore, he’s going to have imperial stormtroopers guarding him. This is outside your experience.”

“I could be a...a distraction.” You suggest, already knowing you’re going to fail but trying nonetheless.

“You want to be useful? Lock in the coordinates to Sorgan一we’re going to need to get out of here fast.” At the mention of the planet Sorgan you tense up, no longer a fight inside of you一Mando notices, but he doesn't push it. “Okay?”

“Y-Yeah...okay.” He nods at your compliance before heading out of the ship, determined to get the child back from the claws of whatever monster put a bounty on his head in the first place.

With a shaky breath, you make your way up the ladder and into the cockpit. Once sitting in the pilot’s chair, you look at the console in front of you and prepare to lock in your coordinates.

It’s not that you don’t like the idea of Sorgan, you know it’s supposed to be a beautiful planet, but you didn't think you’d ever see it. You weren't sure if you wanted to…

You push your deep thoughts away, working quickly一your first job is finally in motion.

Well...this is boring.

You’ve been sitting in the cockpit for what feels like an hour一it’s probably been about twenty minutes, but it makes no difference when you’re sitting in silence一knowing Mando is out there fighting to get the child back. It’s even become dark outside on the planet, the evening creeping into night.

You’ve resorted to lounging in the pilot’s seat, slumped over and resting your cheek on the palm of your hand. You were excited about this job but you’re coming to learn that it’s just a lot of hurry up and wait.

Then, out of nowhere, something on the console in front of you cracks to life, a staticy voice piercing its way into the small room, calling your name.

“Hey! Can you hear me?!” Mando’s voice slowly becomes more clear through the comm link in on the console一a red light flashing.

You jump forward, looking to where the sound is coming from and holding down a button you know will let you answer him.

“Yes! Mando? What’s going on?”

“The Guild, they have me cornered. I need you to come get the child. Get him out of here.” His voice is frantic and you can almost make out the sound of blaster fire in the background.

“What happened to me being inexperienced?!” In any other situation, your voice would be playful, trying to make a joke out of the situation一but not now. You’re panicking.

“Don’t make me regret this.” His voice is muffled before you hear him grunt一blaster fire so close to the monitor he must’ve just fired his.

“O-Okay. I’m coming, just, stay where you are.” You say, too beside yourself to hear the stupidity in your statement, only recognizing it when something between a scoff and an unamused chuckle can be heard through the comm before it clicks off.

You quickly spin in your seat, running to the ladder and practically jumping down, grabbing your cloak and rifle from their spot in the corner of the hull.

Part of you considers grabbing one of his blasters from the armoury, but you quickly push it aside, knowing that this is not the situation you should use a plasma blaster for the first time.

You hit the panel on the side of the ship, allowing the door to lower itself to the ground and let you out. So much for Nevarro not being your first new planet.

Mando was right, it’s nothing special, rocks and sand similar to Arvala-7, but you don't think about it, you just run towards the town a couple of yards away from where Mando parked the ship.

You can already see the red glowing from blaster fire in the center of the town一a clearing that all the buildings surround一perfect for a shoot out.

Fortunately, there's a large stone wall surrounding the town, allowing you to take cover before even setting foot into the rough environment. You take this opportunity to observe the situation一it’s not pretty.

Dozens of bounty hunters are spread across the town, all with evil intentions of capturing the child and probably killing Mando as an added bonus. Plasma shoots overhead, no one with any real aim or intention with there being so much commotion.

You desperately try and find Mando in the crowd, but he’s nowhere to be seen. It’s dark, the only light coming from street lamps, plasma, and explosions. Then, at the far left side of the town, a giant explosion hits an R2 unit, the light reflecting on familiar beskar.

Suddenly, Mando shoots his rifle, disintegrating one of the bounty hunters. This forces everyone to ease back, the blaster fire settling and everyone cowering一waiting for someone else to make the first move.

“That’s one impressive weapon.” You look for the loud booming voice to see the man you recognize from the transmission on the Razor Crest一you think his name was Karga.

“Here’s what I’m gonna do.” Mando’s voice can be heard from behind the R2 airspeeder. “I’m going to walk to my ship with the kid and you’re gonna let it happen.”

“No. How about this?” Karga counters, malicious undertones in his voice. “We take the kid, and if you try to stop us, we kill you and we strip your body for parts.”

As Karga explains his new, very unfair deal, you notice one of the bounty hunters silently making his way around the speeder一blaster raised. You know it’ll blow your cover, the silent calmness of the town will be broken the moment you shoot, but when Mando doesn't turn一you have no alternative.

You aim your rifle一only one shot to get this right.

Pulling the trigger, the shot lands itself directly in the bounty hunter’s head, knocking him down. You see Mando’s head snap around to see the body before looking around the town一knowing you’re the only person who would use regular metal bullets.

He spots you just as the entire town is forced into a bloodbath.

Everyone is pushing in, trying to trap Mando and take the child一Karge even yelling at the others not to damage the child. Before they can get close enough, Mando holds out his arm, fire shooting at an impressive distance, pushing everyone back before they can get to him一even pulling attention away from you after your mystery shot.

You run forward, hitting the first person you see in the back of the head with the butt of your rifle, knocking him to the ground. Shooting everyone you see, you race through the town一surprising yourself with your ability to not be shot.

When some of the bounty hunters turn to check out the unwanted commotion you’re making, you quickly duck behind some debris, multiple plasma shots being fired at you.

Shit.

But after what feels like an eternity being trapped一coming to terms with the fact that there is no way you and Mando can overpower an army of bounty hunting mercenaries一something far away from you explodes, drawing the attention of everyone to the far side of town.

You risk peeking out from behind your shield, everyone turned away from you to see the commotion.

Your jaw drops at the sight of dozens of Mandalorians, their jetpacks carrying them across the town as they kill bounty hunters with ease一achieving the upper hand. You had never seen one Mandalorian before you met Mando一now you’re staring at at least thirty.

The shock of the town is imminent, giving you an opportunity to slip away from the group that was previously attacking you.

You know where Mando is trapped一you need to get to him. You run around the town, trying to use the debris from the explosions to your advantage, your hooded cloak helping to keep you anonymous. It’s only as you pass by one of the buildings, does a hand pull it down一revealing you.

“What do we have here?” You spin around to see Karga with a blaster pointed at your chest. You take a couple of cautionary steps back, trying to put distance between you and the man. “Who might you be? You’re not from the Guild and I take special care to know everyone.”

“Shit一I’m, uh一” You stutter, realizing you’re trapped with no way to go.

“Mine.” A threatening voice booms from your left一barely giving you a chance to turn before Karga is shot in the collar, falling to the ground.

When you do turn, you see Mando standing with his rifle raised, but his helmet is looking at you一not Karga.

You barely have time to register what just happened before he’s running forward, grabbing your upper arm with one hand一you notice a bundle of fabric in his other一pulling you forward.

“We need to get back to the ship.” He states, wrapping an arm around you once you start moving, becoming your own personal shield. You can hear blaster fire bouncing off his beskar as you run, cowering into his chest.

Leaving the town walls, the bundle is passed to you so he can turn and fire a couple more shots, ensuring no one is following you. You quickly glance down to see the child's big eyes looking up at you, making you hold him to your chest tighter as you run.

You had left the door to the ship open, wanting the quick entrance you now need as you desperately try to get off the planet.

Stumbling into the ship, Mando doesn't waste any time climbing up to the cockpit, leaving you to comfort the baby in the hull. The door to the ship closes instantly and you sit in the corner, cradling the child that stares at you with wide eyes.

This poor kid cannot catch a break.

You bounce him gently, gently soothing him as the ship takes off一but your mind is elsewhere. One word tumbles around your brain as you try to make sense of it.

Mine.

What did he mean by that? Likely nothing considering you were about to be killed by a man you already know he has a distaste for, but you can’t help but sit with it. Mine as in my employee? No, that seems too cold. Mine as in my engineer? Better. Mine as in my一

Nope.

Definitely not that.

With a slight jump and a sudden feeling of throwing up一you know the ship just jumped into hyperspace. The feeling passes quickly, probably the fact that you’re not actively looking up at the stars moving helped to that effect.

When the baby lets out a strangled cry, you look down, gently pulling down the fabric to better expose his little face.

“Hey, hey, shhh. You’re okay.” You mumble softly, comforting him as best you can. “You’re stuck with us now, little one.”

Attempting to lull the child to sleep, you start absentmindedly humming to him, a simple song that’s been ingrained in your head since you can remember.

Part of you likes to think your mother would sing it to you, but with no real proof or memory一you can’t say for sure. Kuiil definitely never sang to you, so there really is no other alternative.

The lyrics come to you naturally, singing to him under your breath as his eyes drift shut.

Once you’re sure he’s fast asleep, you stand, making sure he’s completely level before carrying him to Mando’s bed, opening it and placing him down gently. Poor thing deserves some peaceful sleep.

You decide to go check on Mando up in the cockpit and silently climb the ladder after wiping a tear you realized was making its way down your cheek from the song.

The moment the doors to the cockpit hiss open, a strangled groan can be heard inside and you frown一it’s Mando.

At first, you think you should turn and leave, did you just invade a private moment? But, you quickly realize it wasn't a groan of pleasure but of pain.

You stand in the doorway awkwardly, not sure if you should stay or leave before he knows you’re even here.

“Just gonna stand there?”

Oh.

You make your way into the cockpit now that he’s acknowledged your arrival, sitting beside him in the co-pilot seat. Looking at him up close, you realize why he sounded hurt. His upper arm has a gnarly gash stretching across it, likely grazed by plasma.

“You’re hurt.” You shouldn't be worried一he’s tough and you’re aware of that, but you still sound concerned.

“I’m fine.” He tries to brush it off as if you didn't just hear him grunting in pain a couple of seconds earlier.

“Do you have...gauze? Something to wrap it?”

“I don’t need anything.” He brushes you off, continuing to fly the ship through hyperspace. You know he could easily put the thing into autopilot but he doesn't一attempting to distract himself.

“Please. It looks deep. Just一let me help.” You ask him and he doesn't answer. He doesn't turn to look at you either and you take it as silent permission to act. Before you can ask him where he keeps the gauze, he’s already answering.

“Behind the mirror in the refresher.” Giving him a nod he can’t see, you make your way down and into the refresher where you spot a tiny clouded mirror.

You skim your fingers across it, not seeing anything like a handle to pull it back with. Instead, your fingers sit at the side, pulling it open to reveal a tiny shelf with a few items. You don’t dwell in them, simply grabbing the gauze and a rag一which you run under the sink一and making your way back to him.

He’s still sitting just the same as he was when you left and you take your place beside him, looking at the injury. You pull back the fabric slightly, wincing as you reveal his tender red skin.

Skin.

You didn't think something so simple would spark something so strong in you. It’s the first evidence of humanity you’ve received from him. The area not affected by the injury pale and smooth一human.

The plasma hit directly under where his shoulder plate stopped一just an inch higher and he would've been fine.

“I-I’m going to take this off, okay?” You put a hand on the shoulder plate and he stiffens but doesn't make any move to stop you.

Clicking it upward, it disconnects from the rest of his armour and you put it to the side. You move closer to see the injury, taking the damp cloth and dabbing it on his skin.

He flinches away from you instantly, head turning to look at you一you’re not sure what he’s thinking but you continue after giving him a short apology. You wipe away the fresh blood and ash that dusts the surface of his skin一his shoulders slowly start to un-tense, easing into your touch.

Once his wound is clean, you take the gauze and start to wrap it around his arm, making sure it’s not too tight to cut off circulation一trying to ignore the fact that he’s staring at you.

Unwavering and unashamed, he stares at you, taking in every feature of your face now that he’s up close.

It’s only when you notice goosebumps prickle under his skin do you realize how close you are and that your breath is unintentionally fanning across his exposed skin.

The silence is deafening. The only sound coming from both of your breathing, his unnaturally heavy一not surprising given the situation.

“Why did you seem...upset when I said we were going to Sorgan.” His voice breaks the silence, surprising you with his words.

For a second, your fingers stop moving but you snap out of it, continue with what you’re doing.

“I-I lived there once.” You answer honestly, trying to keep the emotion to a minimum.

“I thought you had never left Arvala-7.” He sounds genuinely curious, a lightness to his tone that indicates he’s listening to every word you speak. Now with the kid in his possession and the security of hyperspace, he can relax.

“Not since I was a child.” You hesitate telling him more. You know he’s not asking一you’re under no obligation to share this part of you一but something about the way his helmet tilts as he stares at you and the gentleness in his tone makes you inclined to continue. “My parents were killed on Sorgan.”

You don’t look up at him when you say this, continuing to wrap his arm, but you feel him tense at your words.

“They were killed by the Galactic Empire for information when I was two...maybe three. Kuiil saved me一took me to Arvala-7 where he raised me as his own.” Before now, you had never said those words aloud and they knocked the wind out of you.

He pauses, not speaking one single word, his breathing stopped for so long you’re scared he’s just died in front of you.

“You were...a foundling.” His words are soft, not a question but a mutual understanding.

“Yeah, I guess I was.” You shrug, finally looking up at him一you both stare at each other until he takes a deep breath in.

“I was once a foundling.” His words strike something in you一a match to light up the dark part of you that was never truly understood.

For the first time, you feel like someone understands you, and he did it with just five simple words.

When you can’t seem to respond, the air caught somewhere in your chest, he puts his hand on your knee.

And, without words spoken, you know he’s telling you一it’s okay, you don’t need to say anything一a mutual understanding of each other. Not wanting to indulge in the prominent emotions you’re feeling, you blink them away, finishing the knot on his arm, securing it in place.

“I’ll clean it again tomorrow and re-wrap it...if you’d like.” You add the last part, not wanting to impose on him but he nods once.

“Thank you.”

With that, there’s nothing more to be said. You offer him a gentle smile before making your way down to the hull of the ship, finding your little corner and lying down for the night一thinking about the brief moments shared between you and the Mandalorian.

#din djarin x you #din djarin fanfiction #din djarin x reader #din djarin #the mandalorian x you #mandalorian x reader #mandalorian fanfic

[clairecrive]

can u make a nikolai x reader based on the song mr perfectly fine by taylor swift?

Mr Perfectly fine

A/n: Ahh, thank to you friend, I've been jamming to this song every day lmao Hope I've done it justice x Also, I've left out some parts of the lyrics to make it better fit the story.

(if you want, you can add yourself to my taglist here)

for my other masterlists, you can find them on my navigation page

Word count: more than 7K (ikik it took a life of his own, what can I say)

Warnings: bit of fluff, angst (like a lot), character's death, spoiler if you haven't read Siege and Storm

Tagging: @jupiterandbutterflies (Thank you so much for your comment! I saw it and it made my day✨)

(I don't remember where I took this from so if you know pls lmk)

Most people knew of Nikolai Lanstov. He was a prince, the second born and the most charming. Most people knew him thanks to the countless rumours that went around at court: supposedly he was not of royal blood. "Sobachka" was what they called him.

No matter how though, everyone knew of the last Lanstov prince. But very little knew him.

Meeting him wasn't difficult. Since he had been of age, Nikolai had always been out of the Grand Palace and among people. He’d also volunteered to enlist in the first army, refusing any kind of special treatment and fought beside his brothers in arms in the infantry. That was part of the reason why everyone outside the court loved him so much.

Being Grisha meant that fighting in the Second Army was mandatory. Not that you minded. There was nothing you wanted more for your people than to finally be free. Also, that Shadow Fold needed to go and as the Darkling has always said, all efforts are necessary.

That’s how you met Nikolai the first time. Generally, the First and the Second Army were stationed in different parts of the campsite. Numerous quarrels between oprichniki and Grisha had rendered the separation necessary. However, you never liked crowds much and living in the Little Palace meant that you were always surrounded by people. So, every chance you had to draw away and be by yourself for a while, you took it. Also, being a Healer meant that you’d spent more time in your assigned tent taking care of soldiers than among them.

Word had gone around that everyone in need could come to you. Usually, you had been instructed by the Darkling that your powers were reserved for Grisha. However, what good was it to have the ability to cure people and only take care of a selected few that very rarely got seriously injured? Meanwhile, soldiers of the First Army often suffered from severe injuries, fatal gunshots or knife wounds. You could help them and possibly save their lives so why shouldn’t you?

That was why Nikolai found you one night. Sure at that point it was just another nameless soldier to you. He had never been in your tent before so you had never seen his face before. The boy whose arm he had draped on his shoulders though, was a usual visitor of yours.

“Oh, Petyr, what happened this time?” gesturing to his blond friend to lay him down on the table, you started gathering everything you needed. Not that you needed much but you had found out that Petyr was absolutely incapable of bearing having his bones or injuries in general repaired without having some kind of pain reliever before.

After a few tries, you came up with a herbal composition that dulled the pain but didn’t make him unconscious. Using kvas would mean that Petyr would be knocked out for a couple of hours. That would put him in trouble with his superiors.

“He’s a fool, that’s what happened.” The explanation came from his friend after he put him down gently. Despite his words, you could hear in his tone worry and guilt?

“If saving your life makes me a fool then go ahead and call me one,” Petyr huffed in pain.

“Who knew you were so brave, uh?” After quickly shredding the herbs you needed, you poured hot water on it and brought the cup to Petyr’s lips while helping him keep his head up.

“He’s the bravest of us all,”

“If I knew it took a bullet wound to make you hand out compliments so easily, I would have done it sooner.” Scoffed Petyr after sending you a thankful look.

“See? What did I tell you? A fool,” his friend said dramatically and you smiled amused at their playful banter.

“Let’s see what we’re dealing with, shall we?” You said out loud to warn both Petyr and his friend. Letting them know what was about to happen was best, your experience taught you. Both for the person on the table that could brace themselves for what was about to happen and for the person with him that was filled with worry and cautiousness. Oprichniki didn’t trust Grisha that much.

After assessing the damage, you let out a relieved sigh as the bullet had gotten through and it had not hit any major artery. It had already got infected though, so you knew it would be a painful one to treat.

“So, did you receive any letters lately, Pety?” You ask, suggestively wiggling your eyebrows while your hands cover the wound. You had your eyes closed to better focus but you were sure that he had rolled his eyes.

“Only from my mum.”

“Don’t tell me you didn’t write her back,” you said, opening your eye just in time to send him a glare.

“Ugh, not this again, y/n, please. Have mercy on me, I’m bleeding all over the table.” Petyr moaned making his friend snicker.

“You’re not bleeding all over the table and if you didn’t notice, I’m already taking care of you, am I not? That doesn’t excuse you for being an idiot, though.”

“Are you two in cahoots or something? It’s not fair. Wounded man over here.”

“Oh shut up.” Both you and his blond friend said at the same time. Petyr moaned once again and you sent a little amused smile to the blondie.

“Should I leave you with a cool battle scar? Maybe acting like a war hero will give you the balls to write to her.” You harmlessly threatened him but your hands were already reconnecting the tissue of his skin without letting it scar.

“I’ve told you, y/n. She deserves better than what I can give her. I am, who knows if I even make it home? I’d be only stringing her along.” Now Petyr was dead serious. It was true, you had talked about this often since he was a regular you got to know him better and he had soon told you about his sweet Katia.

While his friend chanted “fool” like a mantra in the background, you took his bloodied hand in yours, his wound fully healed.

“Petyr, how do you think she’s gonna react when she learns that there hasn’t been any delay to her letters but you’re just ignoring her? Besides, you should let her make this decision too. Who knows, she’ll surprise you.” Squeezing his hand you turned to let your words settle and to put away your utensils. You knew you had given him so much food for thought so you didn’t address the subject anymore. His friend helped him off the table and that’s when you noticed that he was injured too. He had a pretty nasty cut on his lower lip and there was already a bruise forming on his temple.

“Petyr, you can sit on my chair while I take care of your friend. You should be fine but for at least a while don’t stress your body.”

Mentally making a list of the things you need to tend to this kind of wound and where you kept them, you started collecting before heading back to them.

Petyr had sat down but his friend was still standing.

“You don’t have to lie down if you don’t want to, but unless you don’t want me to go take a ladder or something, it would be best if you sat on the table.” You gave him your best reassuring smile as you mixed the healing paste. Sometimes, men didn’t like to put themselves in a vulnerable position with someone they didn’t know and had learned to fear. He wasn’t that badly hurt and it would only take a couple of seconds to fix but not every oprichniki was comfortable with being healed by Grisha power. So the paste would do your job for you. It would take longer, sure and it would also sting a lot more but at least he’d be healed at last.

After looking at you for a little while, the blond man did as you instructed, giving you a dazzling smile in return when you settled between his legs to fix his cut.

“The name is Nikolai or handsome if you prefer.” It was not the first time a wounded soldier tried to flirt with you. IT didn’t bother you, you found them amusing more than anything and you knew it was the allure of someone taking care of them speaking more than any real interest.

“Let’s hope you won’t be around here much for me to learn your name.”

“I’ll have to find another way to make myself unforgettable then.” He winked at you before hopping off the table.

You didn’t address his words, only gave them the paste you had prepared. It would prevent any wound from being infected and would be able to cure small cuts and bruises if applied for a couple of days. With that, you sent them both on their way. Petyr waving you goodbye while Nikolai sent you another wink.

And so this was how it all started.

Mr. "Perfect face"

Mr. "Here to stay"

Mr. "Looked me in the eye and told me you would never go away"

Everything was right

Despite your fellow Grisha, military life could be a bit alienating. Which sounded like a paradox, sure, but everyone had their own way of processing trauma and emotions and of course there were plenty of those during the war. If the best way to come to terms with everything that happened was to distance yourself from others and try to find the solution in solitude, it could get to the point where you’d feel alone in a room full of people.

To get a little respite, you’d usually go on a long walk or resort to stargaze. Sometimes, depending on where you were posted, it wasn’t safe to leave the campsite. So, that’s how Nikolai found you one night. Even he had to take a breather once in a while. Being a different version of yourself based on who you’re interlocutor was must be exhausting. Of course, you didn’t know this. You knew nothing about Nikolai at that point if not that he was Petyr’s friend and a socialite, according to other soldiers.

He seemed to be at the centre of gossip no matter what group of people you found yourself with and there also seemed to be a consensus about him. Everyone liked him. Even if it was rare for some Grisha to appreciate oprichniki, you knew they somewhat respected him because if they didn’t praise him out loud, they didn’t speak ill of him either.

“Not a fan of crowds, are you?” he announced his presence before sitting down beside you.

“I love them, I really do. It’s just that sometimes it gets too much.”

“Yeah, I know how you feel.”

“You do? Everyone seems to think you’re a socialite.”

“It’s what I want them to think but alas, I enjoy being more complex and multifaceted than that.” He lightly bumped your shoulder with his, eyes aflame with mischief.

“I bet.” you simply smirked. Despite how everyone seemed to think they knew him, you got the peculiar vibe from him, like there was a lot more to him than what he let everyone see.

“No one seems to know much about you.”

“Maybe you’ve talked to the wrong people.”

“Well, then I guess it’s better if I got straight to the source, don’t you think?”

“That will surely be a better start. Not sure you’ll find what you’re looking for though.”

“We’ll see.”

That night had been the first of many. It had become a sort of an unspoken arrangement between the two of you. While it didn’t last long, you sensed that you got to know him better than everyone. There was something about late nights meetings under the stars that prompted deep and meaningful conversations. It wasn’t hard to form a solid bond with him after a few nights.

The conversations weren’t always personal in the conventional sense. You’d often stray and talk about the most bizarre things. Like why something had the name it had or how cool it’d be if it was possible to pass through surfaces, which led to imagine all the uncomfortable situations one could find themselves in if they were to simply go into a room through its wall.

Nikolai was witty, overly confident and ambitious and he knew a lot of things. You always wondered how he had learned them since he was so young and been in the army for a couple of years already. But Nikolai was never too forward on certain topics, his family and childhood being some of those. You understood, those were sore subjects for you too. So you never insisted. It was much more interesting to listen to him rumble about impossible future projects of his, like a flying ship.

"When people say impossible, they usually mean improbable." He’d say whenever you’d point it out to him. Somehow, despite the absolute absurdity of them, the sheer confidence that he seemed to constantly exude, made you consider the possibility of his success.

You got the distinct feeling that there was nothing this man couldn’t do.

But that was when I got to know Mr. "Change of heart"

Mr. "Leaves me all alone," I fall apart

It takes everything in me just to get up each day

But it's wonderful to see that you're okay

But, alas, as all things do, these encounters of yours also got to an end. You knew it would happen, you were both soldiers so your lives were both heavily characterised by uncertainty after all. However, you were not prepared for it to end so abruptly though. And without an apparent reason. Because Nikolai’s unit hadn’t been posted elsewhere and he hadn’t been fatally wounded. You would have heard of it were that the case. But it wasn’t.

You thought that he had come to cherish your nightly encounters too. Some of those had been full of his promises. How he’d love for you to be around when he’d eventually find the time to work on his ideas. How you had been a nice surprise, a most interesting person among so many dull idiots you were surrounded by every day. How he’d come to value your opinions and presence in his life and that he was going to find a way to make sure that that would never change. Promises that turned to be empty.

You had never allowed yourself to fully believe him. It wasn’t the first time that a boy had made the same kind of promises but Nikolai looked sincere. Honest enough to be believable. But, of course, you had been wrong.

You didn’t realise just how much you had come to rely on him until he was gone. You tried to keep your mind off him and luckily the perfect distraction came your way. The Darkling had scheduled an attack on the enemy’s army and had posted you to be on the field to take care of everyone promptly. You had never been more grateful to the man, even after he had given her a home and a purpose.

Ever since your first encounter with Nikolai, you had thought it had been a blessing. However, you had soon changed your mind and now considered a curse more than anything. Why? Because as soon as you got to the field you couldn’t help but scour the troops for a familiar mop of blond hair. Many looked like him and being this far you couldn’t be sure that he wasn’t one of them but you certainly despised the leap your heart made every time though. That was a distraction you couldn’t afford. Besides, it wasn’t smart to let your heart get involved in times of war.

The battle began, Inferni and Squallers were working together to impair the enemy’s visual so they couldn’t shoot or use their cannons while the First Army marched after them to swap in as soon as the air cleared to catch the enemy by surprise. While your role wasn’t active per se, you were a Corporalki after all, and even if you had been specifically trained as Healer, you had also got one of your friends to teach you the basics of an Heartrender’s work. You weren’t a powerful one but you could hold your ground in a fight. Especially since they weren’t expecting you. And you were still far from any real threat.

The battle dragged on and soon there were wounded soldiers that needed your attention. You hated this kind of work, it was messy and dirty and had to be quick because spending too much time on one soldier could mean dooming another to death. You were accustomed to it by now and soon found a rhythm focusing on ensuring everyone’s survival and not bothering with the aesthetic side of healing. That could be taken care of later if they wanted to.

As soon as your eyes fell onto a crouched figure you sprinted towards them. It was dirty and you didn’t recognize them but you got the feeling it was a life or death situation. Oh, how you wanted to be wrong.

The person crouching turned out to be Nikolai and he wasn’t alone. He was kneeling beside someone, Petyr.

“Where are you hurt?” you hurriedly asked as you tried to assess the damage. His uniform was dirty and full of blood but you couldn’t figure out where it was coming from. Trying to answer you, Petyr opened his mouth only to let out the most gruesome gurgling sound as his respiratory tract was flooded by blood.

“He got shot in the gut.” Nikolai offered.

“Is the bullet still inside?” Opening his uniform jacket you tore a piece from his shirt to use it to put pressure on the wound.

“It’s too late,” Nikolai uttered.

“No.” You strongly refused as you removed the cloth and focused on the wound. His heart was straightening and he had already lost a lot of blood. If the bullet was still inside that it was going to be a problem, if it wasn’t then you still had a fighting chance.

“I removed it earlier.” So that was why he had lost so much blood. Nodding your head to show that you had heard him, you set out to stop the internal bleeding. Slowing his heartbeat so that it was pumping less blood and thus eased your endeavour. You were still in the middle of the field and while you were keeping up with the warfare but in the back of your mind, you registered the sounds of screaming and of gunshots getting closer. A bullet hit you in the shoulder propelling you forward over Petyr’s body. Grisha’s kefta were bulletproof so you weren’t worried for your incolumity but for the harsh movement you had made.

Leaning back, you heard Nikolai calling for you but your eyes were trained on Petyr. You tried to listen for his heartbeat but could only hear two instead of three. Nikolai, who had never left your side, immediately understood what had happened by the fall of your shoulders and the tensing of your hands.

He kept calling for you but the only thing you could focus on was that you had let your friend down. Now there will be one more family crying for a loss, another girl mourning a lost loved one. And it was all your fault. It was because of you that Petyr wouldn’t live to see another day, to write another letter or to fight another battle. It was on you.

The details of what happened next were a bit blurred. Someway you must have found your way back to the campsite. Whether you did on your own after tending to everyone else, you didn’t know. Your memories picked up after you woke up in your tent. Someone was calling your name, saying that the Darkling wanted to see you.

Mechanically you raised and made your way to the Darkling’s tent but your mind was elsewhere. Your thoughts were plagued by Petyr’s face, by that godforsaken sound he made when he tried to speak. The realisation that he was gone hit you like a wall of brick that would have made you stumble if you weren't’ sat in front of the Darkling’s desk. Whether he was speaking and stopped after seeing the forlorn look in your eyes or he hadn’t been speaking at all, you didn’t realize. You did hear him say that you were going to be posted somewhere. Under different circumstances you have said something, anything to not let him send you away. Your mind immediately went to Nikolai. You’d be leaving him behind along with the campsite.

However, you now realised that you had already lost him. Losing Petyr had been the last thing that had completely severed your bond. There was no turning back now and part of you was grateful.

Hello Mr. "Perfectly fine"

How's your heart after breaking mine?

I've been Miss "Misery" since your goodbye

And you're Mr. "Perfectly fine"

You couldn’t know, of course, but Nikolai had left not long after you did. Albeit for a different reason. He had finally earned the Major rank and as such, he took a step back from military life deciding that his skill would be better suited for a life on the sea. Assuring Ravka the supply she needed but in ways that weren’t exactly suitable for a prince but worked just fine for a privateer. And thus Sturmhond came to life.

As for you, you kept doing your job at your new post but were relieved when a letter came from the Darkling instructing that you were needed at the Little Palace. Part of you had relegated Nikolai to that part of your mind where the unmentionable was, however, a traitor thought whispered that maybe there was a chance that you could see him at the royal grounds. Sure, the possibilities were close to zero but it was still possible, right?

No.

You already were ashamed of the fact that you’re still suffering because of him. And yes, you missed him but you weren’t going to indulge the pathetic hope of seeing him again.

He doesn’t want to see you. If he did, he would have already found you. Or write you a letter if he couldn’t, but he didn’t.

You were right. You knew you were, nonetheless, the thought only brought you a bittersweet feeling.

You found the Little Palace just how you’d left it and yet it seemed changed in a way. The insane amount of work you found there waiting for you helped you drown the feeling that it was you that had changed.

Months passed this way, sometimes the Darkling would post you with him or outside the Little Palace. All in all, you’ve kept busy. When news of the little prince leaving the Palace reached you, you let it wash over you. It wasn’t like it mattered much, whether he was a few feet away or in another nation, Nikolai wasn’t part of your life either way.

When the whole expansion of the Fold happened, you were stationed at the Little Palace. Chaos and terror ensued as soon as the news reached the capital making most of the Grisha flee. Most of them went looking for the Darkling while others simply ran away and hid. You were amongst the first group.

Soon, your life was radically changed. The shift in the Darkling was palpable and it didn’t have anything to do with the scars on his face. You had tried your best to heal them and Genya to tailor them away but somehow, they could not be removed. It was an unsettling thing to realize that they didn’t take away his beauty. One could even say that they enhanced his attractiveness.

He was certainly more powerful. None of you knew what had happened in the Fold that day, just that the Sun Summoner had fled and that there were no survivors apart from him. However, as your journey in pursuit of Alina dragged on, you were soon witnesses of his newfound power.

The nichevo’ya, he called them.

He had always been immensely powerful. One of a kind. But this- this was different. And as dread settled among your group as you watched them in action, realisation sat heavily on your shoulders.

He soon found a trail and traced Alina in Novyi Zem and set out to reach the island by hiring Sturmhond’s crew. He was a famous pirate after all and despite his unreliability, the Darkling was sure that as long as he got his money, he wouldn't be a problem.

In the round trip, you didn’t see much of the captain anyway. Some members of his crew were amiable enough, particularly the Yul-Baatar twins. You had even asked Tamar to spar with you from time to time. Your lessons with Botnik were a distant memory and you knew that mastering combat training skills could increase your chance at survival.

When Alina and Mal were held captive though, that’s when Sturmhond made an appearance. He looked younger than you’d thought and there was something oddly familiar in the way he held himself. Still, you didn't talk with him much. Your job was to take care of Alina and so you spent most of your time in her room.

It wasn’t until the Darkling asked Mal to track Rusalye and consequently spent more time with Alina that you had a chance to talk with him. It was during one of your night shifts when he approached you, the Darkling had wanted some of his to always be patrolling the ship.

“What could possibly make a little thing like you be amidst this wretched company?”

“It’s all a matter of perspective, I guess.”

“The thrill of adventure?”

“There’s plenty of it everywhere you go if you’re Grisha, even if you just go on a stroll.”

“Is that why you follow him?”

“I owe everything to him.”

“I’m sure you realize your role in this.”

“Of course I do. I’m not some naive girl who has a crush on her general.”

“Ah, so who, pray tell, do you have a crush on then, beautiful lady?”

“You’re certainly noisy for a pirate.”

“Privateer,” he corrected you, “there’s not much to do around here is it?”

“Not if you have everyone taking care of it, no.”

“Amuse me.”

“It isn’t wise to let the heart get involved in times of war.” That was all you were willing to share. Yes, he was handsome. Yes, the twinkle in his eyes was oddly familiar but he was a stranger. A dangerous one.

“Those sound like words spoken from experience.”

“Maybe.”

“Well, I’d say it’s no fun to only think about war. Life is so much more.”

“Believe me, if I could, it’d be the last thing on my mind. But, alas, l don’t have the privilege to do so.”

You had already lost too much time speaking with him. If someone were to see you or tell the Darkling you’d be in trouble. And you had made it your goal to never put yourself on the path of the Darkling’s anger. So you excused yourself and went back to your rounds.

If only you had stayed and talked to him more maybe you would have understood what was about to happen. Maybe you would have had an enkindling of Sturmhond’s plans. Instead, you were taken by surprise, just like everyone in your group, when Rusalye was spot and a shot was fired. You had found yourself in the uncomfortable position of having to fight against people you had grown to like.

“I don’t want to hurt you, y/n,” Tamar warned you as you stood face to face on the sinking ship dock. Her trusted axes in her hands while your hands were raised ready to attack.

“I don’t want to hurt you either.”

“Then you don’t have to. Come with us.” Her proposition made you gasp.

“That would be treason,” you whispered hoping that the Darkling wasn’t around to hear you. A shiver ran through you as you thought of the punishment he’d give you for even thinking about leaving his side.

“Then you leave me no choice.” She said lowering her arms. Was that guilt you heard in her voice?

Before you could voice your question though, she shouted for her brother and not even a second later, you felt your body grow still. Your eyebrows faltered as you felt your heartbeat slow down.

They were Grisha.

They must have seen you realise because you heard Tamar apologize before everything went black.

Mr. "Never told me why"

He goes about his day

Forgets he ever even heard my name

Well, I thought you might be different than the rest, I guess you're all the same

You didn’t stay out for long though. As soon as Sturmhond’s crew had left the Darkling’s ship and had safely made it onto the Volkvolny, the privateer had asked for you to be awakened.

There wasn’t enough light for you to realize you were on another ship, what alerted you of your new situation were your hands. They had bound them behind your back. Immediately you started to struggle, hoping to wiggle out of the restraints. To no avail though. Huffing out in frustration, you settled for looking around you and see if there was something you could use. That’s when you noticed him.

“Release me- this instant, or else-”

“Or what? You’re a Healer. Not exactly a violent job, is it?” Sturmhond interrupted you, a smirk on his face since he had the upper hand.

“I don’t need my powers to kick you in the ass, do I?” He laughed but didn’t look remotely threatened. Rather amused, actually.

“Please, you have to let me go. He’ll kill me if-” Panic started to build as you realized that there was no way you could successfully escape.

“He won’t touch you.” A solemn glow took over his eyes. “He won’t ever hurt you again, you have my word.” He promised, looking subtly at your left shoulder. You winced as you realized that he must have seen your scars. The ones left by the Darkling’s niche’voya.

“How can I know if you’re trustworthy? You don’t exactly have a good score, you know?”

“You’re going to find out soon enough. Don’t worry.”

Of course, he didn’t bother offering further explanations. He’d left it at that. You weren’t a captive per se but he left your hands bound, only freeing them when you needed to eat or relieve yourself.

Fruitless were your efforts in making you tell more. He often ate with you and would check in at least twice a day but that was it.

It wasn’t until after you had landed after that forsaken vehicle of his had gotten you through the Fold that you understood. His coming out as Nikolai Lanstov, prince and second in line for the Ravkan throne, had shaken you all to your core. However, you doubted that it had sent a pang to the others’ hearts as it did with yours.

Nikolai Lantsov. The man you had been dreaming about, the one that had left you behind without any sort of explanations, the one you missed so dearly, had been by your side all this time.

You weren’t sure how you felt. It made sense now why his eyes looked familiar and his posture. You then connected that the vehicle you had used in the Fold had been one of the many projects he used to geek about with you. It tasted a lot like betrayal. Not because he had lied to you about his name but because he had tried to get close to you again and had managed to somehow break that growing bond again.

'Cause I hear he's got his arm 'round a brand-new girl

I've been pickin' up my heart, he's been pickin' up her

So dignified in your well-pressed suit

So strategized, all the eyes on you

Oh, he's so smug, Mr. "Always wins"

So far above me in every sense

So far above feeling anything

Even if his secret had been outed thus causing some shift in the dynamics between Nikolai and the two new members of his crew - you suspected Mal was closer to punching him every second that passed- not much had changed for you.

On the outside, you pretty much looked like a prisoner. Albeit a very clean one. You rode with them, hands still bound, scowl ever-present on your face.

Nikolai had not come to see you ever since that night after the Fold. And now it had been almost a week since you had started your journey back to the capital. Whether this was all part of his plan to make you look the part of the captive even more or he was just gutless, you didn't know. It was working either way though.

You liked to think that his reason was simply that he didn't care. He had far too much on his plate right now as it was. Going back to court after years of absence while also making claims to the throne and trying to sway the Sun Summoner your way. It was no easy feat. But hadn't he always liked to say that impossible often meant improbable? A lot of things had changed since that night but even so, you'd still pose your bet on him that he'd be able to achieve anything he set his mind to.

It wasn't exactly that thinking this way brought you actual comfort. Of course, not. But it was better than foolishly hoping for him to still care about you the way you did for him. After all, he had sent plenty of signals that pointed in the other direction.

But then why did he kidnap you? Why take you with him? You weren't that close to the Darkling to be of any use to Nikolai in that way. And, as a matter of fact, no one had come to interrogate you regarding his plans or whereabouts. Then why?

You still couldn't figure it out.

Some days your anger shifted more to frustration and you were ounces away from asking for him yourself. Almost as if he had heard you though, he gave you the final push.

It was the usual day, Nikolai and Alina were riding in the carriage, stopping in every village we passed to meet with the locals. However, this time, before climbing back into the carriage, they kissed.

You were too far to figure out who started it and the details. The gist of it was enough though.

You most certainly were a fool. Still thinking about a guy who didn't give two shits about you, who had kidnapped you putting you in a dangerous situation and you were still wondering whether he felt something for you or not? Pathetic.

You had to do something about your situation and quickly too. Officially, you were a traitor. You had fled and joined the Darkling, that wouldn't make you look good in front of the king. He was a lousy bastard anyway and will probably sentence you to death to set an example. You hadn't survived so much shit to end up at the end of a rope.

So, even though you had initially thought against it since you were so close to home, you decided to escape. You were already headed towards certain death so what was the worst that could happen?

Your hands were left unbound when you were in your tent. One less problem to solve. Closing your eyes, you focused on listening for any nearby heartbeats. You heard two, those of the guards posted outside your tent. Maybe you could find an excuse to call them inside, put them to sleep and then slip away.

That was not exactly what your powers were for but you were desperate. You had to at least try.

And so you did. You called them in and immediately set out to slow their heartbeats. You had almost succeeded in putting them under when someone else slipped in. The last person you wanted to see.

"Am I that bad of a host?"

You didn't meet his ruse though, you knew it would make you lose focus.

"I'm afraid I have to ask you to release my soldiers." As soon as he said it though, they fell unconscious at last. Your chest was heaving by now, using so much power in such a different way was costing you. But you couldn't back down now. It was one on one and you were Grisha and a woman scorned. He stood no chance.

"Move out of my way, your highness."

"I'm afraid I can't do that."

"You can or I can make you. Your choice." The venom in your voice was unmistakable and it took him by surprise. He gave you a curious look tilting his head to the side like he was seeing you for the first time over again.

"I didn't realize ruthlessness was one of your personality traits."

"You know nothing about me," you seethed. The tip of your fingers flexed, the tension in the room could be cut with a knife and you were already weary.

"It may have been a while y/n, but I like to think I know a good deal about you."

"And I would like to completely erase this last year but you don't hear me yap about how shitty it has been, do you?"

"You never did like opening up much."

"I'm well past the point of sentimentalism, Nikolai. It is coming far too late anyway. And whatever my feelings for you may be, I won't let you put my life on the line." Your posture straightened, stance ready for battle.

His eyes flashed, jaw clenched. His hands closed in fists and he almost looked hurt. But why would he?

"Is that what you think all of this is?" Nikolai always acted aloof. He was always composed and dignified. You had thought it was for his insane amount of self-confidence but now you understood it was for how he was raised. But you recognised the pout on his lips. It was the expression he’d always have whenever he tried to get something from getting to him. To prevent himself from showing emotions.

"You're holding me captive while you go around Ravka parading your latest conquest, flashing your return everywhere. I don't know why you're doing this but I don't care. I've stopped waiting around for you and I certainly won't let your father put me to death."

"You think I'd let him?"

"So you want to do this?" you threw your hands up in exasperation, "Fine. You really want to know what I think?"

"Be my guest."

"I think that the Nikolai I knew would have left out of the blue without so much as a letter. I think that the Nikolai I knew was ready to go to any length to achieve what he believed in. However, I thought that the Nikolai I knew cared about me and what we had but look at me now. So maybe, I know nothing at all."

"You certainly do seem to know a lot of things. But you’re not wrong."

"If this is the way you care about me," I gesture to my tent, "then I'm not sure I want this Nikolai to care for me."

“This,” he said, emulating your gesture, “is to keep you safe. This is my way to ensure that if the Darkling got news of your whereabouts, he’d be sure not to think you willingly left his side and betrayed him.”

“That’s because I didn’t!” You raised your voice in outrage. The nerve of this man.

“Spare me your indignation. I know you hate being at his beck and call, to do his dirty work and be constantly surrounded by warfare.”

“Do not presume to speak for me.” You snapped. You knew it was best to keep a cool head but his cockiness was getting on your nerves.

“Didn’t you? Hate it, I mean.”

“We’re at war, Nikolai. Being away or close to the Darkling won’t change that. At least with him, I was safe.”

“You can’t be that delusional to think that he was protecting you.” He scoffed at your words as if they were the most absurd thing he had ever heard.

“And you can’t be that delusional to think that bringing me back won’t result in your father killing me.” You fired back shifting on your feet. He winced as if you had physically hurt him.

“You have so little faith in me?” His voice was just above a whisper and you knew that your words had struck a chord.

“How can I have any, Nikolai?” your voice softened a bit. “One day you’re telling me how much you value my opinion, you promise me a future where I’d be the first to see your project come to life and then you left. You just left, Nikolai.” And when I was starting to make my peace with it that’s when you come back? Also, let’s not forget about my abduction and your flirting with Alina.”

“So yes, I don’t trust you.” You concluded, crossing your arms on your chest with finality. He just stared at you for the longest time. If someone would come in now, they’d think you were in the middle of a staring contest. Then he sighed and started talking.

“I had to go away. I had already pushed my parents’ limits when I said I wanted to be part of the infantry. So, one day I got a letter written by my father personally and I knew that my time was up. I had been Nikolai for too long, now I had to start being a Lantsov prince.” His eyes were on the ground now, shame making her way in his words.

“So that’s what I did,” he went as he started pacing,”I went to Kerch to study, just like my father wanted. I did what he asked, he couldn’t reproach me anything now. I could never stay too still though, a life of adventure was calling me and I could not ignore it. It was only then that I realized that I could do so much more than sitting in a class, to realistically help Ravka.”

“I couldn’t take you with me. You had such a larger role to play in the army and besides, there wasn’t much I could offer you. So yes, I left. I left thinking that I would find my way back to you eventually.” He had stopped by now, regret was swirling in his shining orbs as he looked at you.

“You could have told me.” You contestated, taken back by all the information he gave you. “I would have waited for you.” A whispered promise for something that would never be now.

“I was afraid, y/n. That’s not my best moment, I know and no number of apologies could ever make it right. But I was afraid of your answer. I knew I’d be asking for a lot and let’s be honest-” the desperation in his tone was evident now, he had unconsciously started to lean towards you but you knew what he was about to say.

“You weren’t sure if the future you were offering me would just end up with me being your mistress, am I right?” Your tone hardened but despite the insulting implication of what you said, you weren’t made at him.

“I’m a prince, y/n. We do not marry for love and this country cannot afford to disregard the advantages that a political union could bring.”

His honesty was as refreshing as it was unsettling. He was right. As soon as you had learned he was a prince, you realized just what kind of future you could have with him. But then he left and that problem did not exist anymore. Neither of you spoke, both of you were seizing the other. You had laid it all out, defences were down putting you both in a vulnerable position.

And someday maybe you'll miss me

“You should have talked to me, Nikolai. We could have figured it out together. If it came to being your mistress to stay with you, then that was my decision to make.” You said softly after a while. It pained for you to say this, you would have never thought that getting closure would hurt this much.

Tears streamed on both of your faces, in front of you had been laid what your future could have looked like. It was everything you had wanted, you could still do your job and have the man of your dreams. You were surprised to find that you wouldn’t mind sharing him with his supposed wife. You had been at court for enough time to know how most marriages went. If he assured you it was only a diplomatic affair but that his heart was yours, that would have been enough. Who knows, maybe she’ll get a lover too.

But now… now you didn’t know if you could ignore everything that happened. You did not trust him nor could you ignore how hurt you were by his lack of communication and thus of trust in you.

But by then, you'll be Mr. "Too late"

#nikolai lantsov #nikolai lantsov x reader #nikolai lantsov imagine #nikolai lantsov imagines #nikolai lanstov one shot #nikolai lanstov fic #nikolai lanstov x you #nikolai lanstov x y/n #shadow and bone #grishaverse #nikolai lanstov angst #nikolai lanstov fluff #nikolai lanstov blurb

[anashins]

If You're Willing to Kiss || Taeyong

“If you’re willing to kiss, then let’s show him what he’s missing out on.”

During a stupid round of spin the bottle, your crush kisses someone else, but you make sure that he'll regret it very soon.

_____

“Kiss, kiss, kiss, kiss, kiss, kiss!” the people in the circle chanted and clapped their hands simultaneously to the rhythm of their voices.

You watched in rigidity as your female best friend and your crush Jaehyun were about to kiss each other.

Reluctantly, they crawled to the middle of the circle as the chants only increased in their volume the closer they approached the spot until they were awkwardly sitting in front of each other, almost not daring to look into the opposite’s eyes, their cheeks visibly flushed.

At the same time, your heart broke into a thousand pieces.

You hadn’t signed up voluntarily to play this stupid game of spin the bottle as you sure had better things to do on a friday night, like reading or sleeping.

But you couldn’t have said no when Jaehyun had tagged you along to this party as all your friends were coming as well.

At first, you had been excited about it, because wherever Jaehyun went, you would willingly join him as you always wanted to spend as much time with your crush as possible.

After years of having hidden your feelings, tonight you had gathered enough courage to finally make a move.

But now he was about to kiss your best friend, and you felt utterly devastated as you watched how they slowly pressed their lips onto each other.

The people before had only shared light pecks without even touching one another at other parts, but Jaehyun and your best friend did not only kiss longer than required, they also started to put their hands on each other’s bodies, not minding the cheering crowd at all as though they had drifted off to their own world.

You felt sick in your stomach, murmured something along the lines of a hurried apology and excused yourself to the bathroom.

Splashing water into your face, you looked into the mirror while your fingers gripped so tightly onto the sink that your knuckles turned white in the process.

No wonder, you had always felt like that your best friend was a hundred times more beautiful and intelligent than you. Every guy wanted to go out with her, then why not Jaehyun as well?

You had seen the way they turned shy, the way they flushed at each other, and then the way they shared a chaste, yet deep first kiss with 20 other people as witnesses. You may be in love, but you weren’t naive.

If one kiss could change everything, then this had been the kiss.

The kiss he had been supposed to share with you. The kiss you had wanted to save up until it was now too late.

And before the first tears started running, you wanted to go home. Nobody would care anyway.

“Y/n, are you in there?” you suddenly heard from the other side of the closed bathroom door.

It was Taeyong, Jaehyun’s close friend, and the only one who knew about your secret crush.

“Yes, I’ll come out soon, no worries!”

You had forgotten that he was also here, but he hadn’t participated in this round of spin the bottle anyway.

Taeyong only knew about your crush because you had once poured out your heart to him when you were drunk, and until this day, you regretted it deeply as he never failed to miss a chance to tease you about this.

But always, he had kept his lips sealed in front of Jaehyun, and for this, you were grateful.

So of course he would now be the only one knowing about your true feelings after having witnessed your best friend and crush kissing each other.

Yet, you tried not to let any of your true emotions slip as you opened the door and faced him with the brightest fake smile you could pull off.

“Sorry, I just wasn’t feeling well. I think I’m going home.”

“Uh-huu…”

Taeyong inspected you from head to toe, and then decided that he wasn’t satisfied with this answer.

“You sure about this or are you just affected by the clownery Jaehyun has just pulled off?”

It had been a given that you couldn’t lie to him about this topic. Somehow, he must have gotten wind of what had happened. Perhaps, he had also purposely followed you to the bathroom.

You were just asking yourself why.

“Look, Taeyong, I don’t want to talk about it, okay?”

“Lately,” he started, “he has been talking about her a lot.”

You hesitated and gulped. “About… my best friend…?”

Silently, he nodded, confirming your fears and making your stomach churn. It hurt you more than anything ever before, and you were rendered motionless.

“I want to go home,” you then said in the same robotic manner.

At home, you could pour all your feelings out and finally started crying instead of staying at this place where you had to watch them getting closer and your best friend taking the place at your crush’s side that was supposed to be yours.

“Either that or you could stay,” Taeyong suggested.

You frowned. “Why would I want to stay?”

“Jaehyun is an extremely jealous person. If he sees you with someone else, he might regret it and realize that it’s you that he wants.”

“That’s stupid,” you judged and crossed your arms.

“How long have we been knowing each other, y/n?” Taeyong asked. “Long enough for me to know that if you don’t do something now, you will whine about it for ten years, and - no offence - I don’t have the time and patience to hear about your unrequited love for much longer. Either you do something now or you let go of him.”

“It’s already too late,” you commented dryly and wanted to pass by him, but he grabbed you by your arm, making you stop.

“Are these the words of a young woman who had fought her way through the crowd to the first row to see her favorite band up close, elbowing people to the left and right? They’re not! They’re also not the words of someone who had threatened an online seller with an imaginary consumer advice centre when they didn’t want to return her money! And you want to let him go just like that? If there was anything you have taught me, y/n, then it’s the fact that it’s never too late.”

Turning keen-eared, you asked, “So what do you suggest?”

--

Shortly after, you found yourself being part of the spin the bottle circle again.

Of course your eyes hadn’t missed out on the longing gazes Jaehyun and your best friend were throwing at each other while more and more people gathered in the middle of the circle to amuse the crowd with their kisses.

You were angry on the inside, but also full of nervousness as the bottle spun again and Taeyong jumped up, paused, and then reached out his hand to make it stop at the right time.

And the bottleneck was pointing directly at you. You inhaled deeply.

“Hey Taeyong, you wanna kiss her so badly or what?” someone shouted.

Another one added with a laughter, “He’s finally shooting his shot.”

“Shut up, the bottle is pointing at her, so that’s the rules.”

No one complained though as he crawled to the middle and you did the same. It was as though the crowd, your fellow students, actually had been wanting to see you two kiss for a long time, and you wondered whether you were right with your suggestion and why they would think that way.

Taeyong… he had always been there by Jaehyun’s side. He was Jaehyun’s friend, not yours.

Even though he always helped you with homework when you forgot yours. Even though he always handed you water at parties to keep you sobered. Even though he always gave you a ride when you missed the bus. Even though he always made you laugh when you were sad about Jaehyun again.

Even though, in a situation like this, he wanted to help you again.

There were many things Lee Taeyong did for you, yet you had never considered him your friend.

You wondered whether he felt the same way when he leaned in to you.

“If you’re willing to kiss, then let's show him what he’s missing out on,” he whispered only for you to hear. “If you’re willing to kiss, then close your eyes.”

But before you did as you had been told, you threw a last gaze at Jaehyun who looked at you with a mouth slightly agape.

Surprised that it might work, you grinned inwardly as Taeyong’s lips brushed over yours.

It had been so long that you last kissed someone, but from the first moment on, he proved to you that he was indeed a very good kisser.

Taeyong’s lips moved with yours in a very chaste way that had even something romantic to it, and it surprised you, to say the least. It was not even the manner in which Taeyong kissed you that gave you this feeling, but the way he made you feel, the emotion he delivered.

So comfortable, so warm, and raw, and you wondered whether this had been his intention all along or whether this was the usual manner in which he kissed.

So you didn’t wonder when you suddenly noticed him leaning in to you and bending your body to the point of you having to wrap your arms around his neck to look for support so as to not fall backwards, yet you didn’t stop.

Before, you had agreed on fake kissing passionately to rub it under Jaehyun’s nose, but truth to be told, the line between faking and reality slowly started to blur as you genuinely began to enjoy kissing Taeyong.

With his hands now holding onto either side of your waist, he parted your lips to deepen the kiss, and you gladly let him do so.

Even when he started using his tongue, you didn’t make him stop like he had asked you to before in case it would get too much, but you didn’t want him to just yet and pulled him even closer.

You only stopped in the moment Jaehyun interfered with an, “Enough now, it’s only a game!”

But when you pulled away and looked into Taeyong’s sparkling eyes that radiated so much fondness, you wondered how you could have missed the affection he had been holding towards you all this time.

You didn’t care much about Jaehyun’s opinion anymore. Or who he was kissing.

Because if one kiss could change everything, then this had been the kiss for you.

#taeyong #lee taeyong #taeyong imagines #taeyong scenarios #taeyong fluff #taeyong x you #taeyong x reader #nct imagines #nct scenarios #nct fluff #nct x you #nct x reader #kpop scenarios #kpop imagines #kpop x you #my writing #imagine #ah it's soft hours again

[prose-for-hire]

Face your demon

Pairing: Spike x reader

Request: Could you do A Spike x reader where the reader is in love with him, but doesn't show her emotions (except for getting easily flustered around him), but Spike overhears hears her talking to willow about it and he confronts her, ending in them being together?

Requested by: @wiccanindigo​

Requested tags: @fictionalhoomanofnowhere @artsymaddie​ @shy-ginger-in-the-graveyard​ @cameo-greaves​

​You were pretty neutral in public. Your face rarely shifted other than to a polite smile or perhaps a confused frown should the moment take you by surprise. Other than this human reaction, you would usually maintain a resting face. One that appeared to most as if you didn’t wish to be in their company. Or anywhere at all really.

You felt a lot. You really cared about your friends, the people you loved. It was just near-impossible to express this. At least, in a way that you were comfortable. It was much easier to hold people at a distance. That way, you didn’t risk rejection. Or painful, bitter emotions that you didn’t enjoy.

So, you tended to hide your emotional side completely. Rather than wrestle with articulating the way you felt. It wasn’t necessarily a conscious decision, just one that you lived with. You struggled expressing your emotions – not only on your face but also verbally. Any way, really. It could be so hard.

Luckily for you though, you had some very caring and empathetic friends. The Scoobies. They understood and gave you the time you needed – between fighting apocalypses of course.

You were sat in the Magic box with all of your friends around you. Buffy, Willow, Xander, Anya, Tara and Giles. You were characteristically just staring into the centre of the room as the usual antics played out around you.

You contributed now and again although not as passionately as the others, it must be said. You tended to bounce off of someone else’s point and repeat it if you agreed with it with a shrug. As if you would rather be anywhere but there.

You weren’t shy. In fact you came across as the complete opposite. Cool, collected. Near apathetic should your friends not understand how deeply you truly did care – you just didn’t express it as much as most. There was no need to gush in your book. You weren’t one to keep your heart on your sleeve and make the entire room look at it.

Well, that was until him.

Spike ran in, slamming the door shut behind him. It slammed so hard the entire store shook and he sauntered in as if it was nothing. It made the corners of your mouth tug into an almost-smile but you looked down to avoid anyone seeing.

There he was, your weakness. The one that could render you speechless. A flustered mess. A heat would rise in your cheeks and your voice would appear weak and just wholly unlike yourself.

You had it bad. He always did this, walking in with that swagger. Those cheekbones. That look…

His eyes were straight on you. As they always were. You were a mystery to him, one he was so desperate to figure out. You had noticed the way he always made his way to you. The way he dropped his voice and made comments about the others in the room in the hopes of you cracking a smile.

You spoke to him as much as you could, but often your words failed you. You didn’t want to give anything away. Couldn’t. You didn’t want him to tease you, reject you in such a painful way.

He was Spike, after all. He could have anyone he wanted you were sure of it.

The point was, though, that he wanted you. And you were too wrapped up in focusing on how to breath properly when he was around that you didn’t notice.

Spike found your resting face beautifully morbid. He found you to be strong-willed and the very little he sensed or heard from you he found himself clinging to. You would be stamped onto his brain for the rest of his un-life, he was sure of it.

He was in so deep. Thought about you constantly. Wanted to know what you were doing, what you were thinking. Imagined himself by your side. Taking you into his bed… oh, and I won’t even start on the dreams. They left him aching. Such deep, unending desire. For you. God, it could only ever be you.

“Alright, pet? Don’t rush to say you missed me, written on your face already” He smouldered in that way he did. Hoping for any kind of reaction.

You looked up at him before immediately looking away. A ghost of a smile on your face as you shifted in your seat. He took this as an invitation to sit beside you and so he did.

“Hi Spike” You just about managed before your voice wavered. You didn’t like the way he rendered you this flustered mess. But, at the same time you couldn’t help but completely love it.

Your usual cool demeanour gone. Lost in those beautiful eyes of his. You could happily live in his eyes for the rest of your life.

You managed to position yourself in your seat in such a way that meant he made up most of you vision, without it looking glaringly obvious to anyone else. He lived in your peripheral vision. At least this way a little part of him was yours.

You became a little brave and moved your eyes to look at him properly, no longer just from the side. He was beautiful. The way that t-shirt clung perfectly to his torso. The way his leather duster managed to land in such a relaxed way on his shoulders. Effortless cool. Or, that’s what you assumed.

You loved him. His looks. His personality. Just everything. You couldn’t escape it.

Something snapped you out of staring. Everyone’s eyes were suddenly on you. Staring.

“Huh?” You asked, feeling a heat rise in your cheeks as he turned to face you properly too. You had apparently managed to miss the entire meeting. Not one scrap of the plan had entered your head. You were consumed by him instead.

“Y/n? You sure that’s okay?”

“We’ll be fine on patrol, right love?” Spike smirked at the rest of the room and raised an eyebrow which made everyone reconsider.

“We can switch if evil dead makes you uncomfortable” Xander offered kindly which made spike glare. He wanted you to himself.

“No that’s good- uh, fine. It’s fine. I’ll patrol with Spike” you rushed out at a completely different pace than anyone was used to hearing you speak.

What you were supposed to be looking for, you didn’t know. You hadn’t been listening just focusing on regulating your breathing. Wiping the sweat from your palms at the proximity. He was sat so close to you. You wanted to just lean against him. Whisper how you felt.

You and Spike walked out into the cool night air. Mostly in silence, although you could almost hear the cogs in his mind whirring to come up with something to say. You didn’t realise but he was trying to impress you. Trying to get you to smile. He loved it when you smiled. Near melted.

He then finally asked something he had so wanted to say to you. For such a long time.

“We could, uh, blow this off, go for a drink?” He let the proposition hang in the air.

You didn’t even begin to consider this had been something more than a teasing joke because he didn’t want to be stuck patrolling anymore. Just wanted to rebel against Buffy’s sudden authority in his life.

“Yeah, because I’ve always thought you’d look great with a redwood through your chest” You spoke, referring to what Buffy would do to him should he leave you or the demon to run through the streets.

“Pet-”

“It’d make a pretty accessory. Bring out your eyes” You deadpanned and he just stared. Why were you like this? Why did your flirting so quickly descend into just being rude?

It was like a disease. You were riddled with it. Any sense that your mouth would spill the contents of your mind and something took over. Possessed you, began to say the very opposite of what you wished to say.

You wanted him to ask you out for a drink. Tell you that you looked nice, that he felt lucky to have someone like you to take out. Have on his arm. Show off. You wanted to loop your arms around him and embrace him. Kiss his lips. Have him in your bed. His body yours and only yours.

But, instead, you had just told him he would look better dead. Or, well, more dead. He had taken this as a firm no, you didn’t want to go out with him. He looked upwards, trying to stop the stinging at the back of his eyes before he nodded firmly and just shrugged.

“Whatever, let’s find this vamp”

Oh, right. It was a vampire. You were supposed to be looking for a vampire. That at least narrowed it down… kind of.

Both of you took turns in glancing at the person beside them. So desperately wishing to touch them. Have some kind of intimacy. It was hard having the one that you loved so close and yet emotionally so far away.

There was a distance. A canyon between you that you both wished to cross. But it was so hard. There would be no turning back.

You never caught up with the vampire you were meant to find and Spike walked you home instead when it got too late. You tried to thank him for the gesture but he had turned and walked away. Licking his wound at the rejection you had inflicted upon him without realising.

Despite the fact you had hurt him though, he had needed to make sure you got in safe. Protecting you from harm meant everything even if you wouldn’t give him the time of day.

It had been a couple of days since this unwitting rejection and you and Willow had arrived early waiting to meet with the others at the Magic Box. Giles had gone to pick up some order sat the back. Which left just you and your friend. Well, that’s what you thought anyway.

She was the only one that knew how you felt for Spike. She had seen you watching him, a new expression unlocked on your face. As if she had won a quest or something in a video game and been allowed to see it.

Conversation had quickly turned to this man that you were so in love with it managed to fluster even you. You near hid your face from your friend at even the implication you liked him. But you were comfortable that Willow was being supportive.

You discussed that you liked him. Truly admitted it out loud for the first time. Not realising that the man himself was stood around the corner listening. He loved to hear your voice and so had stayed back because you seemed to speak less in his company.

Spike’s jaw tensed as he heard you talking about this mystery man though. He had never heard you gush this way before. Stumbling over your words to describe such longing. You usually appeared so calm, collected. He wished to be the one that sent you weak at the knees in the way that this nameless idiot did. He guessed it was probably Xander.

Stupid bloody Xander. Gormless nit.

“Maybe, uh, you should tell him? You can’t know his feelings unless you try” Willow offered.

Spike guiltily hoped that you would have to face rejection so that he could comfort you instead. Spend more time with you, prove to you that you could trust him with your emotions. He so longed to have your attention. Your trust.

“I can’t… I-it’s too hard” You sighed and his spirits lifted, maybe this would be his chance instead. While you tried to build up your courage, he could show you how much you meant to him. How much he wanted you.

Nothing could have prepared him for what came out of your mouth next. There had been only a slight pause while you sifted through your emotions.

“He’s so- he’s… he’s Spike” You had no other description other than this spike-ness was all that you wanted. You near craved it. But also these words explained how hard it was. How trying to speak to him was near impossible. Willow nodded in understanding and patted your shoulder sympathetically.

“It could be good for you, y’know? Facing your, uh, demon…” Willow’s voice dried up. Turned into a little squeak. You looked up, confused.

There he was, as if your longing had been a magnet to the man himself. Your eyes bulged and your mouth opened in shock. The most your face had ever given away.

Willow stumbled over some excuse that neither Spike nor you heard before she left for the exit. Allowing you to both speak.

“I’m the bloke you’ve been harpin’ on about?” He said slowly. He did this only because he wanted to hear it from your mouth again. As if he wasn’t entirely sure if he had dreamed it or not.

“We don’t have to make it into a big deal… I’m sure I’ll, uh, get over it” You tried, avoiding the rejection you could feel coming.

“Don’t” He said quickly, “God, please bloody don’t get over it. You’d break a poor dead man’s heart if you did”

“What?” You asked, frowning in confusion. He couldn’t possibly feel the same way… could he?

“Don’t be daft, love. Asked you for a drink didn’t I? Trailed after you despite you not even pretending to take an interest. Been there just in the nick of time before somethin’ nasty ate you?” He reeled off things he had pretty much done in the last fourty-eight hours. It made you gasp with surprise. How had you missed this? “Tell me I haven’t bent over bloody backwards for even a shred of your affection,”

“Spike…” You looked away, it was so hard. You didn’t even know how to begin to say what you needed to.

“Please, don’t shy away. Can’t stand it when your eyes wander…”

“Spike, I…” He took your hand, nodding subtly to show that he was there. That he liked you, that he needed to hear it. Whatever it may be, “I love you”

Spike pulled you into him immediately, knowing this must have bee hard for you. He was beginning to understand. You were like him, petrified of the rejection. The idea that the one that held such promise and stirred such feeling could ruin everything. You restored his faith in love. Rekindled his affections for the notion as well as confirming that he loved you too.

He crashed his lips to yours, his reply to your words communicated in this way. And you understood completely. Lips moving against yours, a display of affection only for you. he was firm in his love but so very tender. He embraced you close, a hand along the small of your back that made you shiver and lean further into him. Deepening this perfect kiss.

You parted, somewhat reluctantly and just gazed at the other for a moment before he spoke.

“I’m just glad you don’t have eyes for the whelp” Spike grinned and it made your face brighten. A smile. One that he savoured as you rolled your eyes at him being so pleased you liked him more than Xander.

He took your hand in his and sauntered beside you. Chest puffed out and proud to have you by his side. As if you had just gifted him the entire world.

Now you just had to break it to your friends. There was no way you would be hiding this.

#Spike btvs #Spike x reader #Spike imagine #Spike x you #Spike #btvs #btvs x reader #btvs imagine #btvs x you #Buffy The Vampire Slayer #buffy the vampire slayer imagines #spike fic #buffyverse #btvs fic #x reader #gn #gender neutral reader #gender not mentioned

[bookishofalder]

Night Changes [Five]

Series Masterlist

Summary: Poe and the reader eagerly focus on their friendship. Unfortunately for them, life isn’t that easy.

Warnings: Language, mentions of smut, violence, injuries. WC: 11.1K

A/N: Please enjoy this failed attempt at fluff. Also, thank you to @hoeforthefictional for inspiring a scene in this chapter (see: Charlie’s shirts)

Your hand smacked against the cool steel of the dining table as you snorted, “That is not true!” You exclaimed, watching Poe run his hand over his mouth to try and hide his smile, though you could still see him shaking with laughter. “Poe that was Charlie, it was NOT me!”

“Sure Sweetheart,” He drawled through his chuckles, quirking a brow at you, “Charlie convinced your dad that we could all be trusted on our own for the weekend. ‘Cause, he was the one with the big sad eyes your dad fell for every time.”

You groaned, knowing Poe was right, your giggles confirming it to him even though you didn’t outright admit it. “Well you were the one who suggested we try to nab some booze at Eddard’s,” You pointed at him accusingly as memories of you, Charlie and Poe as preteens trying to break into a closed cantina to steal spotchka replayed in your mind. “I was the only one the old man didn’t hit.”

“My ass smarted for a week after that,” Poe frowned at the memory and you giggled again. He grinned over at you, and you felt a flush of delight at the early morning banter, each of you sipping your caf as the golden sun streamed in through the high windows and the room steadily grew busier around you.

It had been a few weeks since your return from the classified mission, the data collected on the outpost proving to be immeasurably useful, earning you both a very pleased smile from the General. A larger secondary team was already there; though they were outfitted with greater protective equipment and a lot more manpower to clear back some of the overgrown jungle from the base and work to bring it back up and running.

While it was a severe break in protocol, neither you nor Poe included the exposure to the red flower pollen in your mission reports. You described the sighting of the plant, cautioned approached and advised the settlement team to wear protective gear, but that was all. Though a mild amount of guilt settled in your stomach for the breach, the idea of writing down what had happened, of being hauled for questioning and medically assessed, was more than enough to make you feel it was the right decision.

It had taken three days to return to base from the mission. Even after your long conversation with Poe assuring him you were alright and that you didn’t blame him for what happened, he still walked around you like he was afraid any moment you would crack and reveal your anger or mistrust. He’d pointedly refused to touch you or come too close after the initial embrace you shared, and although you disagreed with his reasoning, you couldn’t help the relief that you felt because something about being close to him, touching him, stirred feelings inside you that you didn’t want to address.

It made it easier to focus on repairing your friendship if you maintained a slight distance from the man you’d known your entire life. Better to set aside any feelings or thoughts and work to find your way back to the version of yourself you missed. The one who had been happy. You wanted to be her again because the lonely woman you’d become was less than ideal. And you had missed Poe more than you’d admit.

You just wished you could stop the dreams.

“You know,” You spoke slowly, your eyes losing focus as you thought back to those younger years, “I’m pretty sure that was the weekend I became obsessed with learning about Mandalore. I saw that picture of the really famous one up in the cantina and wanted to know everything about it all.” You shook your head at your youthful silliness, the crush you’d developed for the faceless bounty hunter simply from hearing the tales of his heroics. You’d even had a-

“Remember the picture you had?” Poe cut into your thoughts and you refocused on him, “You had that up for years, on the back of your door, a street artist's painting of the rogue Mandolorian, Charlie teased you all the time for having it.” He was smiling at the memory, his eyes crinkling slightly.

You stared at Poe in surprise as warmth swept through you. “You remember that?” He shrugged, his eyes flicking away to glance at the table as if he was suddenly self-conscious, surprised at himself.

“Yeah, I...” You watched as he appeared to steal himself, his cheeks dusted with colour. “I remember everything. It was always us three, wasn’t it? I’d never forget Charlie or y-you.”

When he looked up again his eyes were burning with bright intensity. You couldn’t bring yourself to look away, even as your heartbeat tripled and emotion swelled inside you. Everything else-the noise of the caf, the sounds of others laughter and conversations-it all faded into the background as Poe and you regarded one another across the table.

A hand coming down onto your shoulder jolted you from your thoughts. You glanced up to find Temmin grinning at you both as he moved to take a seat next to you. “Morning, morning,” He glanced over mischievously at Poe, then back to you, “Sorry to interrupt your eye-fuck session, just wondering if you saw our surveillance got moved up?”

Poe was quicker to recover, pulling Temmin’s attention from you as heat flooded your face and you gaped wordlessly. “Uh, to now, I’m assuming?” Poe spared you a glance, his eyes unreadable as you swallowed, embarrassed at your reaction.

You’d anticipated those close to you or Poe to tease you both about the renewed friendship, entirely unsurprised that Temmin was the leading comedian about the entire thing. He’d happily jumped on any excuse to tease, but even though you were never one to flinch away from adult banter, the occasional sexually suggestive comments brought you straight back to the memories from your mission and rendered you speechless each time.

Pursing your lips, you took the last sip of your caf and stood up, your hands automatically sweeping down the front of your flight suit to straighten any wrinkles. You tried to give a half-hearted smile, hoping Temmin didn’t start to think you had a shitty sense of humour.

“I’m going to get started on pre-flight, in that case.”

You glanced at Poe and found he was already watching you, his lips quirking up in a way that made your insides bubble confusingly. Before you could turn away, however, Temmin was gently grabbing your forearm.

“Don’t uh, go that way, use the longer route. For your sanity.” He suggested, grimacing as you groaned in frustration.

“Kriff. Thanks, Snap.” You spun and stalked in the opposite direction, your eyes still scanning to ensure that you didn’t accidentally run into Rush despite Temmin’s warning.

The Healer had not taken kindly to your outright disinterest, apparently taking Poe’s interference at the cantina before your mission as a challenge. You felt you had enough on your plate now to justify not telling him point-blank to fuck off. You’d instead found yourself actively avoiding him, going so far as to duck into storage closets to hide, or in the case of two days ago, hide behind the broader frame of your Captain when you’d spotted the Rush walk into the hangar and look around for you.

Temmin had started to goad you after Rush had departed, stopping when he saw the look on your face and you’d resigned yourself to explain the situation. When you’d finished, he’d offered to talk to the Healer for you, suggested the Poe could and would step in as well, but you had been very clear that you didn’t want either of them to deal with your issues and told Temmin in no uncertain terms to keep the situation from Poe. He had been going out of his way in previous weeks to be kind to you. His continued (and entirely unnecessary) attempts to make up for everything that had happened, both on the mission and before. Having him do another favour for you when you had yet to figure out how to give back to Poe, didn’t sit right with you.

So you snuck out of the back of the dining hall and hoped you’d bought yourself more time to figure your shit out.

Earlier that morning

His curls were softer than you’d remembered, you loved sinking your hands into them and gripping. Your head felt so heavy that you felt yourself drop it into his neck, your heart swelling at how right it felt to nuzzle into Poe as he held you.

Fuck, it felt so good to straddle him this way, not just for how close your bodies were, how easily you could kiss him, but because his thick, long cock hit the best spots inside you at this angle. It was bliss, delicious, something you should have been doing for years. You rolled your hips as you came, crying out when he slammed you onto him and held you there as he came undone as well, feeling close to passing out when he cried out for you.

“Sweetheart, oh fuck, (y/n)!”

“FUCK!”

You gasped as you woke from your dream, trying to sit up even as your body continued to convulse from your orgasm and small moans tore from you. You gripped the sheets, panting as you floated down from your high, again. Another dream, the same memory replayed over and over every night until you eventually woke up like this, shaking and sweating and cumming.

You sobbed, sitting forward and drawing your knees up to your chest, wrapping your arms around yourself as you dropped your head. This needed to stop and you didn’t understand why it wouldn’t. It had started up the first night you were back on D’Qar, always the same; the memory of those finals moments wrapped around Poe, the last orgasms you each had as the pollen had worn off, and then you’d wake up as you came. You’d tried masturbating before bed just to try and curb the need, but that hadn’t helped in the least. You were desperate now, confused and exhausted from waking up day after day filled with an intense need for something you shouldn’t want.

A good part of you thought your sleeping brain was just cruel, taunting you for what had occurred. But the logical side of your brain noted that it could very well be an aftereffect of the exposure to the pollen, perhaps the last dregs of it working its way from your system when you were most vulnerable. But since you hadn’t reported the exposure, there was no way to find out. It wasn’t like you were going to ask Poe if he was experiencing anything similar-either response he could give was equally as mortifying just to imagine.

Kicking your sheets away, you glanced at your clock and noted the early hour before stalking angrily into your fresher to take a shower. A cold one, because despite the daily orgasms you were waking up from, you were constantly on edge, hornier than you’d been in a long time.

It didn’t help that you were a touch-starved, lonely and unattached woman. Aside from what had happened with Poe on the mission, you hadn’t had sex in a long time and even the last few times you did, it wasn’t anything spectacular. Which was why you’d been almost ready to let Rush take you to bed before, just to feel something pleasurable.

And now...now you wanted to run away from all pleasure.

+

Poe watched as you hurried out of the room, your shoulders stiff and he frowned when you glanced hastily toward the other doorway before slipping out of view. He looked at Temmin, who was giving him a knowing, guilty kind of smile from across the table. “What the hell was that about?”

Temmin considered his words for a long moment, rapping his knuckles on the table. Finally, he said, “Major hasn’t told you?” As if hoping Poe might suddenly realize what was going on with you and let him off the hook. At the same time, his friend appeared unsurprised of the direction the conversation had gone since your odd departure.

Raising a brow at his friend, Poe leaned forward. “No,” He replied slowly, shaking his head, “Told me what?”

“Let me preface this by telling you she asked me not to make you aware of the situation. Healer Derrin has been cornering her around base every day since you’ve been back, trying to convince her to give him another chance,” Temmin paused as Poe shifted from curious to downright outraged, “Don’t look at me like that, I just found out myself like two days ago.”

“But-I-” Poe stammered, half rising from his seat, “What the fuck has he been doing?”

Temmin waved a hand in a calming manner, “Popping up all over, trying to catch her for a conversation. Only reason I found out was that he came into the hangar the other day and she practically climbed on my back hiding behind me from him.”

Beside himself with fury, Poe took several deep breaths to relax. “Fuck,” He growled, running his hands over his face.

A distant part of his mind wondered why he was so physically worked up, ready to seek out the Healer and lay into him. When he glanced up, Temmin was casting an obvious glance to the time and Poe relented, releasing his anger to focus on the task at hand. “Sorry, thank you for telling me. Let’s go.”

With a curt nod, Temmin jumped to his feet and fell into step with Poe as they made their way to the hangar. It didn’t go unnoticed by Poe that his friend cast a wary eye around, no doubt concerned they would run into Rush and he would be required to break up a fight.

Quietly sighing to himself, Poe rationalized that he could focus on patrol, then return to base and seek out Rush for a civil conversation, nothing more. Flying would calm him, help him to clear his head, and despite your request to keep Poe out of it, he wasn’t about to let you down by allowing some dick head to harass you.

-

Patrolling the Resistance base was a duty that fell upon every squadron, regardless of status. Poe knew he could probably convince Leia to let Black team off the hook, considering the number of high-status, incredibly dangerous missions she entrusted them with, however he felt it was good for his team to pull their weight when it came to the less exciting tasks.

It was also a good opportunity for some team building, as you all kept your comms open to have idle chit-chat throughout the shift. “Listen, Poe, Tommy was a lot taller than you. You know it, I know it, hell Temmin knows it! He knew Tommy!” You were giggling now, which was the only reason why Poe had continued to argue that Tommy wasn’t all that much taller than him.

“She’s right, Commander.” Temmin supplied with a chuckle.

Kare’s voice joined in, “I’ve never met this Tommy but he sure sounds a lot taller. Did you date him, Major?”

At the question, Poe felt himself stiffen slightly, suddenly extremely curious to hear your response. You didn’t hesitate, “Oh, maker, no. Never.”

“Wow,” Poe chirped with a laugh, “I’m kind offended for Tommy with how passionately you just said that!”

You laughed, “Tommy wasn’t my type, Kare. We were just friends.”

“But he did ask you out,” Temmin suddenly supplied, unknowingly causing Poe to frown. Tommy had asked you out...when? It can’t have been during Gold team days, because then he’d know about it, if not from you then certainly from Charlie, who was close with Tommy. Which meant that you had seen Tommy at some point after you left and spent enough time with him for the handsome pilot to ask you out. Jealously silenced Poe and he opted to listen only.

“Oh,” You sounded surprised that Temmin knew about it, “Yes, well we were stationed together for a while at an outpost a few years ago.” Though your voice had tightened somewhat, Temmin had apparently not picked up on it and continued speaking, teasing you.

“Huh well, Major, from what I heard via our mutual friend Rico, you two had a 'friends with benefits' thing going on during that assignment.”

You laughed in embarrassment, “Fuck off, Temmin.”

Realizing that his silence was both telling and uncalled for, Poe decided to join back in. “What, sweetheart, embarrassed to admit you liked his man-bun?” He joked, happily drawing further laughs from you and the rest of Black team. Inwardly, however, Poe was spinning and he tuned out of the remainder of the conversation as he fell into deep thought.

It was incredibly wonderful having you back. Despite everything that happened during the mission, the resulting change between Poe and you had exponentially increased his overall happiness. It felt, in some ways, like old times. The void that was Charlie was there, ever-present but not always overwhelming, sometimes it was just a hum of grief in the background as you walked next to Poe, your shoulder occasionally brushing his arm, or when you laughed fully and your eyes crinkled the same way Charlie’s had.

And stars, you were funny-Poe had always thought you had a great sense of humour, but the past few years had given you a slightly harsher perspective, something that most Resistance fighters developed in time. It meant your wit was a little drier, your sarcasm in great abundance. He’d laughed more these past few weeks than he had in years, something that didn’t escape Temmin’s notice, his friend often shooting him a knowing wink when you weren’t looking.

Professionally, not a whole lot had changed, though conversation and directives were less chopped, he was proud to know that despite the tension and anger that had been between you before the mission, you had both worked immensely well together.

He had been terrified that you would leave again, despite your assurances on the contrary. He wouldn’t even have blamed you if you had; he remembered everything that happened, the way he’d touched you, the dark bruises and marks he’d littered across your soft skin, and the things he said. The harsh, cruel words still twisted in the back of his mind, surging to the forefront at random to taunt him, force him to relive the way he’d demeaned you. But you hadn’t left, in fact, Poe was pretty certain that the first few days back you had barely left his side just to prove to him that you wouldn’t, and he was grateful for that more than he could tell you.

He was grateful to have you back, to banter and tease, to see your smile brighten the room every day, usually because of something he had said. His old feelings were stirring, never really having faded altogether, but he was eager to push them down again and focus on the friendship. He needed to reign in his jealousy over something that had happened years ago between you and Tommy.

There was no reason good enough to admit how he had felt before Charlie died, and certainly, nothing in the galaxy could convince him to confess to you how he was starting to feel now.

It was better, he thought, to just be friends. Safer.

Earlier that morning

Your skin was soft, delightfully silky and smooth under his rough fingers, and he enjoyed gripping you harder, pulling your hips to his as he filled you, over and over. Your warm body pressed against his as you straddled his lap, your moans weak and head lolling from the pleasure.

The feel of your head falling to his neck, your body curling into him as your orgasm hit.

“Oh Poe, don’t stop!” The way you said his name. How you clenched around him, pulling him to his own peak. The feeling that was coming inside of you, bliss and rightness of the action intensely overwhelming as you shivered in his arms.

With a start, Poe woke up, his dream-induced orgasm ripping from him. He was unable to do more than groan in pleasure, his hips rutting against the mattress as his cum spurted, hands gripping his pillow. Biting his lip, the shame washed over him before he’d fully finished cumming, his groan morphing into a pitiful sound of desperation.

Every fucking day he woke up much the same, his dream-memories of those final moments under the grip of the pollen replaying over and over until he woke up mid-orgasm. He hadn’t had wet dreams since he hit puberty, for Maker’s sake. He thought it must be an aftereffect of the pollen, further proof the intensity and potency of the red flower was beyond anything he’d ever heard of.

Grunting in frustration, Poe climbed out of bed and retrieved a towel to clean up his mess. Turning on the shower, he glanced at the time, happy that he had enough time to rinse off before meeting you for what was becoming a routine morning caf.

He kept the water cold, punishing himself for his dreams and wishing like hell he could erase the images of you, so beautiful and soft around him, from his mind.

+

It was ideal that the man essentially stalking you was a Healer because it meant that he was relatively easy to track down on base. Healers had long shifts in the med-bay and usually didn’t stray far from base in case something major happened that required additional medical support. Poe was walking to the med bay now, leaving you with Temmin and your funny friend Ana back in the dining hall, to confront Rush.

He’d come up with a simple excuse to step away, stating he required a few essentials from the commissary and wanting to get there before they closed. You were eating slowly tonight and he had taken advantage of that and Ana’s rare presence-something that would keep you in the dining hall much longer, conversation flowing, so that he could slip off to the med-bay.

He’d felt your eyes watching him as he excused himself, burning into the back of his neck as he tried to walk as casually as possible out of the room. As soon as he was clear, he sped up in case you decided to follow him, but a glance over his shoulder before he turned the corner a few minutes later proved he was right that you would linger with Ana instead.

As he walked along the halls, nodding and smiling at anyone he passed, Poe attempted to steady and control his emotions. He would ask Rush to leave you be; be nice but incredibly firm. Advise the healer that it was in his own best interest to keep things professional unless you did indicate you were interested. As he argued with himself on the best way to word the request, Charlie’s image floated around in his head, reminding him that if he was still alive and some dick head was bothering you, he would be the one to calmly protect you. Poe was the less than calm protector, but he needed to channel your brother here because he hoped to prevent you from finding out he’d cornered Rush.

As he approached the final stretch of the hallway that led into the med-bay, a nurse just coming off duty came walking along in the opposite direction. Poe recognized the older woman, brightening when she glanced up and saw him. “Evening, Rosie, how are you?” He flashed her his best grin.

With an affectionate roll of her eyes, Rosie calm to a halt in front of Poe, “Good evening Commander, what brings you to our neck of the woods? You don’t look injured unless your big head is giving you a headache.”

This was why Poe liked her, she was the type to catch on to bullshit and funny as hell. He couldn’t help his bark of a laugh, “No, I’ve gotten pretty good at lugging it around,” He replied, “Listen, can I ask you a quick question before you head off for a night of dancing with a lucky guy?”

“Lucky lady,” She corrected with a wink, and Poe smiled apologetically with a nod, “And go ahead, what’s up?”

“Right, my mistake, although now that I think of it I don’t think any of us men could survive your charms,” He joked, pulling a laugh from the deadpan nurse, “I’m looking for Healer Derrin, do you happen to know where I could find him?”

Something close to a knowing look flashed in her eyes then, but Rosie didn’t comment. “His shift just ended, actually. He left for the hangar roughly, oh, ten minutes ago.” She glanced at her wrist comm for the time, nodding to herself at her estimation.

Poe frowned, realizing that it was routine for you to have left dinner already to go to the hangar to input your mission report for the day and perform your check of his and your own ships. Because you were dining with Ana, however, you hadn’t left yet. “Thank you, Rosie.” He gently clasped her shoulder as she smiled at him with that look still in her eyes, but she merely bid him farewell before he spun around a hurried away, taking the quickest route to the hangar.

When he arrived, the hangar was fairly quiet, only a few lingering mechanics wandering about, several service droids cleaning the large space and performing nighttime checks. Still wearing his medical clothing, Rush was easy to spot as he stood near your ship across the room, eyes staring off at nothing as he waited to see if you’d turn up.

When he heard Poe’s footsteps approaching, he turned with a hopeful look before spotting him and shifting to a placating smile. “Evening, Commander!”

Poe stopped a few feet short Rush and tried his best to return the smile, “Healer,” His voice was clipped, and he took a careful breath in an attempt to keep calm and channel Charlie. Friendly, to the point, no need to get worked up. “What brings you here so late?”

Rush shrugged, “Hoping to catch the little bird that keeps flying off,” He admitted, gesturing at your ship, “Can’t seem to get any face-to-face time with her, but I’m hoping to clear things up and start fresh. Think I moved too quickly before.”

Poe plastered his face with a neutral expression as his insides burned upon hearing Rush refer to you as ‘little bird’. “Listen, man, I’ve known (y/n) my whole life and I don’t think she’s interested, I mean, it’s been weeks since your date and she’s been avoiding you since.” Poe kept his voice as steady as possible, not wanting his tone to convey anything other than mild interest.

Rush bristled immediately, however, “That your objective opinion, Dameron?”

His voice was pointedly not steady and his tone was anything but mild. Still, Poe held up his hands in a placating gesture, “It is, and it’s kind of...uh, obvious, I guess.”

Poe watched as Rush took a measured step closer to him, though this didn’t serve to intimidate as the Healer stood an easy couple of inches shorter than him. “You’re full of shit. You’re telling me this because you want to fuck her,” He glared up at Poe, who was frowning as he fought his internal battle to remain calm. “Actually, noticed you two are buddy-buddy all of a sudden; so that’s it, isn’t it? You went off together for nearly two weeks and she spread her pretty legs for you-“

Well, no one could say Poe didn’t try. His fist was connecting with Rush’s smug face before the Healer could continue his vulgar accusation, falling back a few steps before regaining his balance and shooting a glare that did nothing to intimidate Poe.

Forcing himself not to move in for another punch, Poe pointed his finger at Rush, “Shut the fuck up, asshole. I never want to hear you talk about her that way again, got it?”

Rush scoffed, his hand rubbing along his reddening jaw, “You’re only proving me right, reacting like that. Either you want her so you’re trying to prevent me from having a chance, or you already had her,” The Healer was seething mad, clearly not thinking straight. He didn’t seem to see the tension rolling over Poe’s body, anger coiling within and ready to burst forth in more than just a single punch. Or maybe a handsome guy like Rush Derrin couldn’t stand the idea of having a competitor, as he seemed to view Poe, and it clouded his usual ‘nice guy’ personality entirely, made him mean, made him say things that he really, really shouldn’t. “Tell me, what is she like when you’re balls deep-does she moan as loud as I-“

This time, Poe didn’t hold his anger back into a single punch, he opted instead to launch himself at Rush, whose eyes flashed in fear just before he was taken to the ground. Fistfights weren’t something that Poe usually got himself into anymore, though he’d had more than his share growing up. He held himself to higher standards now, especially considering his high rank within the Resistance, the respect he had from his fellow fighters.

All of that was out the window though as he wrestled on the hangar floor with Rush, who gave a yell of anger as he tried to out fist Poe. He was strong, a decent enough match physically despite being shorter than Poe, who twisted his hips to roll Rush in a flurry of movement, eager not to end up bested by being pinned under the man. He did feel the punches he gained in return, particularly a stinging blow to his cheek that seemed to hit directly on the apple, skin splitting on contact. Rush was wasting energy on cursing and yelling insults, most of which didn’t register with Poe as blood rushed loudly in his ears, rage only intensifying.

It was only a few moments of fighting at this point, not long enough for anyone who had been on the other side of the hangar to have made it over already to break them up. This was why Poe stiffened in complete surprise when he saw a figure approaching quickly in his peripheral vision, which distracted him just enough for Rush to take advantage and roll heavily, slamming Poe into the floor. He felt his head hit the concrete, though it wasn’t too hard of a blow it was disorienting. Before he could even begin to attempt to get Rush off of him, however, the figure that had first distracted him now came directly into view over Poe.

It was you.

But you weren’t yelling for them to stop like he would have imagined you would do. Instead, from his vantage on the ground, Poe witnessed your fury first hand, so much more intense than he’d seen in years. But the night of Charlie’s funeral that fury had been lined with grief and heartbreak. Now, you looked shockingly terrifying as you swiftly launched yourself at Rush, tackling him off of Poe in one motion before rolling with ease and jumping back to your feet.

When you pointed your blaster down at the Healer, who lay flat on his back in complete shock, even Poe flinched at the look on your face.

“Don’t you fucking touch him,” You hissed, your voice cold and low. There were a few people nearby, all who’d frozen upon seeing the Major asserting her authority over the lower level Healer. Though he partially flushed with pride and equal parts surprise, Poe was quick to scramble to his feet and hurry to your side. “I forbid you to enter this hangar again unless it’s for medical purposes, got it?”

Poe could see that your finger wasn’t on the trigger of your blaster, the safety clicked on still. All the same, your reaction was completely out of character and he wanted to stop that cold, harsh look on your face in its tracks, even if it wasn’t directed at him.

“Sweetheart,” He murmured, quiet enough that only Rush could discern his words, “Let’s take a walk, let Healer Derrin go and lick his wounds.”

The moment you dropped the blaster, Rush was on his feet and hurrying out of the hangar, blissfully silent, entirely amusing. Poe glanced around to the others nearby and gave a friendly nod of release, and they broke away to finish their work. Placing a hand carefully on your lower back, he put a slight pressure and started to walk, relieved when you complied and holstered your blaster.

Though he’d suggested the walk, you seemed to take control of the direction and somehow Poe found himself stepping through the door of your room minutes later. He barely had a moment to glance around at the minimally decorated space, his eyes again finding your pinned copy of his favourite photo on the corkboard, before you rounded on him.

You weren’t as furious as you had been before, but he still took a measured step away from under the heat of your gaze, flinching as he waited for you to begin yelling at him for interfering in your life, for embarrassing you, bracing himself for your wrath.

Instead, your angry gaze met his own and you faltered, your eyes flicking over his face and Poe watched the anger melt away, your expression softening into concern. “Oh, Poe,” You sighed, closing the distance between you both to reach up and carefully grab his jaw with one hand, turning his head to peer up at the cheek he’d taken the worst punch to, “Are you alright?”

You dropped your hand, not completely as he would have expected but to rest on his chest, just over his heart. Poe felt himself stiffen again, the casual way you touched him driving him almost into a frenzy of confusion and hope and fear.

“I’m fine, I can take a punch,” He grinned, cringing when his cheek stung from the movement. “Might need to pop a bacta-patch over this, though.” He reached up and carefully prodded the split skin, hissing at the pain.

You stepped away, tugging Poe by the arm, “Sit,” You ordered, pushing him toward your bed. He perched himself on the edge and watched as you went to the med-kit you kept in your fresher to pull out bacta-patches. “I knew you weren’t going to the commissary.” You added when you walked back toward Poe, grabbing your desk chair and setting it in front of him before taking a seat.

“In my defence, I was being nice at first,” Poe said as you wiped away the blood on his face before gently placing the patch, your eyes focused on your work. “He uh, turned out to be a bit more hot-headed than I’d have thought.”

You snorted, “I came in too late to know who hit who first, but you don’t need to defend yourself,” Picking up another wipe, you cleaned around the patch and some spots along the rest of his face that must have had blood splatter. “I made Temmin tell me if he told you about Rush. I know you were fighting with him because of me. And that’s...that’s why I hadn't mentioned it, actually.”

Poe stared at you for a beat, “What do you mean?”

“I just,” You sighed, your eyes searching his face before you tossed the wipe in the trash and you sat back in your seat. He already missed the feel of your hands on his skin. “I knew you would want to talk to him, and that could lead to a fistfight or whatever on my behalf, and I didn’t want you to put yourself in that position just for me.”

“Just for you?” Poe repeated in surprise, leaning forward, his arms resting on his knees, to look at you closely, “Sweetheart, come on, you know I’d do anything for you.”

You nodded, but Poe wondered if you understood how serious he was, how he wouldn’t hesitate, wouldn’t question. Or maybe you did understand and that was why you looked slightly afraid, your face flushed as Poe gazed at you intently.

“Poe, you’ve been going out of your way for me since we’ve been back. You know it’s all...we’re good, I trust you,” You leaned forward, your face mere inches from Poe’s, and took his hands into yours, “So you don’t need to keep proving yourself, I promise.”

Poe felt himself nodding as he looked at you, gazed into your bright eyes and saw the sincerity in them, the emotion. He was still, afraid to move now that there was nothing between either of you, fully aware that you were alone together in a locked room and nothing could interrupt you. He felt himself blush, heat crawling up his neck, and Poe wanted to lean away and clear his throat and push back everything he was feeling but you were making it too difficult, sitting there with wide eyes and plump lips and a look so earnest, so trusting that he was transported straight back to the first time he’d wanted to kiss you.

But the thing was, he was a skinny teenager back then, and it had been easy to talk himself back and resist the urge because of Charlie. Because he didn’t want to offend you. Because your mom was just down the hall and could walk in at any moment.

But here, Poe wasn’t a teenager anymore, and for that matter neither were you. No, you were both fully grown adults, a fact he was keenly aware of as his eyes moved from yours, slowly, and he saw the way your lips were parted, the flush up your neck, the way your chest was heaving slightly.

He’d never wanted to be braver in his entire life.

Just as he thought of closing the gap, though, an image surfaced. The memory of you, trembling on the table after the pollen had worn off, just before he could give you the bacta shot, your body littered with marks he’d put there, the marks that were in the nightmares he kept having. Bile rose in his throat and he was sure you sensed the shift then because you were pulling away even before Poe broke the connection of your gazes and eased his hands from your grasp.

It was quiet for a minute, each of you looking determinedly away from the other. You stood, and Poe glanced up, fearing you were going to ask him to leave. You had a thoughtful look on your face, however, and moved over to your dresser instead. He watched as you opened the lowest drawer, flipping through the contents.

“I realized the other day that you didn’t have any of Charlie’s clothing because of course, I’d taken it all,” You straightened, turning around with a small stack of shirts clutched in your hands, “But I shouldn’t have done that, so here, take these.” And you held the stack out to him, biting your lip as you did.

Poe’s heart stuttered in his chest and he had to blink a few times to clear the sting of tears threatening the corners of his eyes. “These were...Charlies’?” You nodded, your eyes swimming with similar emotion. He took them from you and looked down at the familiar, worn fabric in a variety of colours, each shirt soft and well cared for. “Sweetheart, I don’t know what to say.”

He stood up, gripping the clothes in one hand before carefully reaching out and wrapping his arm around your head, pulling you close and kissing your hair. You were stiff in his arms, but he felt you patting his mid-back. “You don’t have to say anything, flyboy.”

—

It was very rare that you found yourself in your current position, crouched outside of Poe Dameron’s window late at night, grateful that his father slept on the lower floor of their home because he found it cooler. And even though you knew Mr. Dameron wouldn’t be mad if he found you sneaking into his son’s room, because you and Poe were together most of the time anyway since forever, you didn’t want him to interrupt your attempt to apologize to your friend.

You carefully slid the window open, your eyes attempting to adjust to the darkened room within but there was no light this evening, even the stars were hidden by clouds that threatened rain you knew wouldn’t come for another day at least. You were gazing in the direction of where you knew his bed was, so when hands shot out to grab you from almost right in front of you, you couldn’t help the squeak you let out, still desperate to be quiet, before promptly falling backwards. You wondered if you were about to break your arm again, and it had only just healed the month before. Kriff.

Thankfully Poe had already grabbed your waist, his hands gripping tighter when you lost your balance before he pulled you through his window with a grunt, both of you tumbling down due to the force he’d used to ensure you didn’t fall. Landing clumsily on top of him with a thud, you both froze in the dark, listening for any sounds from downstairs.

You waited a few minutes, heart pounding in your ears, wishing you could at least see Poe’s face but it was too dark, you could only make out the faint outline of him. You could tell he was looking up at you, but that was about it. Feeling confident Mr. Dameron was still fast asleep, you shuffled off of Poe, only his hands were still gripping your waist, so you ended up kneeling right next to him.

“Poe?” You whispered, moving a hand down to pat the back of one of his, “I think we’re good-sorry, I wanted to-“

Poe’s angry sigh halted your words in their tracks, and you felt his fingers flex before he released you and moved away. After a pause, light from a small lamp bathed the room in a low, golden glow and your best friend came into view, standing a few feet away with his arms crossed over his chest.

“I heard your apology the first time, (y/n),” He hissed, and you hated the way he said your name, that he even said it at all when you were used to him only referring to you as ‘sweetheart’. “Breaking in to say it again doesn’t really-“

You had climbed to your feet, dusting off your knees before glaring up at Poe, “Fine, I won’t apologize again. But I’m not leaving until you talk to me, tell me how I can fix this.”

Poe ran a hand wearily over his face, not meeting your eyes. Guilt and shame and sadness were all that you felt these past several days as Poe actively avoided you, refused to even look at you, because of what you’d said. And you hadn’t meant it, you really didn’t, it just slipped out in a moment of heated disagreement and you wished you could eat the words back up before you’d fully finished speaking. The look he’d given you...

“I don’t know, I just need some time,” He grumbled, still not looking at you. You took a half step closer, hoping to draw his gaze. Disappointed when he only frowned harder and kept his eyes on the wall. “I know you’re sorry, but you still fucking said it.”

“And I have no excuse for it, Poe, I was out of line. I was angry and I wanted to just...”

“You wanted to hurt me.” He finished, and you were shaking your head violently because that wasn’t it, it really wasn’t.

“No, no that’s not why,” You breathed, tears threatening but you swallowed them back, blinking, “You’ve just been so weird lately, and you wouldn’t tell me why so I lost myself and wanted a...a reaction, something, from you.”

Poe’s eyes locked on yours then and you felt yourself shrink inward at the coldness within them, “You said my mother would be ashamed of me. Out loud, to my face. Because I wasn’t explaining why I’ve been moody-which by the way, if you thought about it you’d fucking realize why-so that was your solution?”

His voice had raised only a fraction, a whisper yell in the dim room, yet he might as well have been screaming at you. You deserved for him to rage and yell because you had said that. In a stupid, selfish moment, after weeks of odd behaviour from Poe and another fruitless attempt to ask him what was going on, you’d said his mother would be ashamed of him for shutting you out. You hated yourself for saying it.

You grappled with yourself, struggling to find words and Poe jumped on your silence to continue speaking. “I forget sometimes that you’re just a kid, a silly, spoiled little girl who gets her way all the time,” His words cut through the air like little knives, driving straight into your chest, “But in the real world, when you say mean shit like that you can’t always just bat your pretty lashes and say you’re sorry. Words have consequences, you fucking brat.”

You bristled, despite having known when you decided to come here tonight and beg for forgiveness that he might lash out, you weren’t prepared for Poe to talk down to you like this. Little girl. Spoiled. Brat. Was that really how he saw you?

Was he really going to leave to join the Resistance and you’d never see him again?

“Fuck you,” You gasped, pain lancing your heart as you glared up at your best friend, “You don’t talk to me like that, Poe Dameron. I said a shitty, horrible thing to you and I didn’t mean it and I’ve been trying to apologize, that doesn’t give you the right to speak to me like this. You’re calling me the kid when you-you’re acting like an angry little boy?”

Poe dropped his crossed arms, his mouth opening in fury as he stepped toward you, and you were ready for the fight, for the words to start flowing between you both as whatever the fuck was going on lately seemed to bubble up and over. But the dim lighting of the room left a lot of shadows and darkness, and his sudden movement toward you startled you. You couldn’t help it, you flinched, visibly and almost bone jarringly. You flinched away from Poe, one hand half raising in front of yourself defensively.

And the fight in Poe, that fire and passion, it was out in an instant. Like you had flipped a switch and all the power was sucked from the room. For a moment, he stood frozen in mid-motion, gaping at you as you straightened from your defensive stance, and you shook your head to organize your thoughts, wanting to just apologize again and leave. But he was looking at you so intensely now that you felt like you couldn’t move; like he’d pinned you with his horrified expression.

“Are you-?” His voice almost broke, and he didn’t try to clear it, merely lowered the pitch, “Are you scared of me?”

You wanted to shake your head, but your brain was still processing the shocked look he was giving you, the colour rising to his cheeks as emotion seemed to overwhelm him. Poe looked utterly wrecked at that moment, and even though you knew he needed to hear you speak, to assure him that of course, you weren’t scared of him, the sudden movement and looming shadow on the wall had simply caught you off guard, you couldn’t bring yourself to fucking speak.

“Sweetheart, fuck, I’m so sorry, please don’t be afraid,” He gasped out, holding up both hands slowly, palms facing you, “I would never-shit, sweet, beautiful girl, please don’t be afraid of me, please I’m sorry, I’m so so-“

You cut him off as he started to nearly sob, convinced you were scared of him, that you thought he might hurt you. “Poe, no, I’m not scared!” Regaining the use of your brain, you stumbled forward and threw yourself against Poe’s chest, gripping the soft tee he’d worn to bed, your face pressed over his heart. “I was just startled, I’m not scared of you, I could never be scared of you.”

You could hear his heart hammering away in his chest, feel how tense he was, his hands hovering in the air behind you. His voice was so quiet when he spoke that if you hadn’t had your head so close against him, you wouldn’t have heard.

“I would never hurt you, fuck, I wouldn’t try to intimidate you. I’m sorry I was going to stand closer so I-I could yell without waking dad up, so stupid...” The sob that had been threatening him tore out, crushing your heart a little.

He was ridiculous because you’d know him your whole life and you knew he wasn’t the type of man to physically harm or scare anyone. Sure, he’d been in his share of fistfights, but even you knew he was usually throwing a punch in response, and these last few months he’d been relatively cool-headed, a sign of his maturity.

You pressed your body closer to his before lifting your head to look up at him. Poe was still not touching you, and he was looking across the room unseeingly as he blinked back tears, his expression tense and upset. With slow movements, you reached up to stroke along his jaw, your hand pausing when you first touched him, your heart rate picking up a little when his eyes closed at your touch. You stroked more than the usual three times, repeating the action until his body relaxed against yours, continuing until his hands tentatively moved, one settling on your waist and the other raising to cup your face.

You stood like that for a long moment, your fingers still trailing the familiar path of his stubble, drinking in the way his expression, eyes still closed, softened for you.

“I know you wouldn’t ever hurt me, Poe,” You whispered, “That’s why I’m fucking wrecked that I hurt you. If you don’t want to see me anymore...I understand, I crossed the line like an idiot. Our friendship has always been the most important thing to me and I overstepped and I’m sorry, you’re right that I’m just a stupid little-“

“Stop,” Though it was low, whispered into the room, the command behind the word was enough to silence you and you gazed at Poe in surprise. He looked at you then, and you delighted at the expression he had, so filled with love and care. “I forgive you, I know you didn’t mean it. I saw your face right as you said it...we just, we both got too worked up. We keep doing that, I think because we know Charlie and I leave in less than a year.”

You nodded in agreement, the small movement making you suddenly very aware of how tightly pressed against Poe you were. He was still holding your face gently, but the hand on your waist was gripping you in a way the suggested he felt the proximity as well. You took a shuddering breath, “I love you, Poe. I’m sorry.”

He dropped his head to rest his forehead against yours, his eyes fluttering half shut, and the weirdest thought suddenly cropped up in your head. The most absurd notion that you could easily tilt your head and press your lips to his. You remained still, but couldn’t help but stare at his soft lips as he spoke.

“I love you too, sweetheart,” The hand on your waist clutched you closer, which you hadn't thought was possible, “And I promise I would never hurt you, never lay a finger on you or say something awful that I meant, never. Nothing could ever, ever make me hurt you, sweet, lovely girl.”

You closed your eyes, unable to trust yourself to resist kissing him when he spoke to you like that, his words coated in the deep, suddenly husky tone of voice. And you couldn’t rid those thoughts as he led you over to his bed and you cuddled against him, ready to sleep but your heart thrumming away as you imagined what it would be like to kiss him, your Poe.

What would it be like to be with him, to touch him, to-and you really blushed now, grateful he’d shut the light back off and his light snores were filling the room-feel him hard for you...you’d never been with a guy before, not like that. You’d had some steamy make-out sessions, groped and fondled with cute guys...but the idea of your Poe coming undone for you...

Well, that was suddenly an idea that you were completely unaware would have such an intense impact on you. You let the images play out in your mind for a moment before taking a deep breath and pushing them back and down, convincing yourself it was just a reaction to the adrenaline, the high emotions. Poe’s grip on you tightened in his sleep, and you snuggled closer to lay your head over his heart and listen to the steady beat.

—

Word travelled quickly around base that Rush Derrin had been beaten up by a pilot; the surprising thing was, at least to you, that the pilot in question was you and not Poe. Apparently, Poe scrapping on the floor with Rush wasn’t nearly as interesting or exciting as the story of how you’d tackled Rush, moved to your feet and drawn your blaster on him in one swift motion.

You had grown used to the quiet greetings over the months you’d been on D’Qar, and enjoyed the last few weeks of friendlier hello’s that cropped up in response to your rekindled friendship with Poe, but the tale of your no-nonsense, ego stripping attack on the rude Healer seemed to blast you into the same orbit Poe had been in as the ever-popular poster boy for the Resistance.

Everyone said hello, no matter where you went or the time of day. Ana sought you out the afternoon after to tell you that all the mechanics were raving about how they thought you were snobbish, and now realized you were, in fact, a silent badass. As embarrassing as it all was, it was nothing compared to Poe’s response to your new status.

He was insatiable, eagerly and proudly telling anyone who would listen-and it seemed everyone did want to listen-his first-hand account of watching you tackle Rush. Of how you’d coldly told him off as you followed your professional directive-protect your Commander, no matter the threat. Your shoulders were starting to ache from the number of times he’d clapped his hands over them, rooting you to the spot so that you couldn’t escape the latest admirers, gripping you because he really was proud, really meant everything he said.

“Okay, seriously,” You breathed when you finally broke free from a group of younger pilots, Poe laughing at your side in amusement at your reaction. “Commander, I may have protected you but I can just as easily go ahead and kick you in the-"

“Ah, come on now sweetheart, you wouldn’t do that,” He laughed, a playful arm dropping around your shoulder. Your insides had started reacting to every single touch, lingering or not, that Poe gave you. Which had been happening a lot lately. And it didn’t help matter that he’d look at you the night of his fight with Rush like you had told him you’d hung the moon just for him. You couldn’t shake the memory of the way he’d gazed at you as you sat frozen, inches away.

“Don’t be so sure,” You grumbled, allowing him to lead you to the hangar, “I now have to hope that if either of us gets seriously injured Rush isn’t the Healer on call, because I doubt he’d be much help now.” You noticed then that even though you were still passing people, and those people were smiling at you, no one had stopped you or spoken to either you or Poe.

Confused, you frowned up at Poe, intending to ask him, but the words died on your tongue.

No one was stopping you because they didn’t want to interrupt Commander Dameron and Major Horn, happily wrapped around each other, looking exactly like a love-struck couple. You were sure that a previous version of yourself, the one who existed years and years ago, would have quickly sprung out of Poe’s reach and laughed awkwardly, made an excuse to run to the fresher. Instead, a feeling grew inside of you that felt a lot like...

Possession. But that wasn’t right, was it?

Poe wasn’t yours, not like that. It was almost like there were two parts of you reacting to the increasing touches; the part that enjoyed the familiarity of his affection, and a part that starved for more and grew hungrier every time it was fed. It made it hard, impossible even, to sort through your real feelings for Poe. Because you did love him, you did feel yourself flush at the idea that others were viewing you as a couple, and yet...the path of your thoughts seemed to reroute itself constantly, focusing on the physical and craving more of it.

Maybe this was your problem before, you couldn’t admit to yourself how you felt toward Poe and it ended up being twisted up until Charlie died. You’d admitted to yourself that the biggest reason you’d fled was that you had realized, all those years ago, that you were in love with Poe. Was that what this was now? Old feelings slamming back home with startling intensity?

Then why could you only focus on his hands on you, if that was the case?

He’d noticed you’d gone quiet and came to a sudden halt in the empty hall, glancing down at you curiously, his eyes darker than normal. You felt his arm hold you a little tighter, the hand on your shoulder gripping almost too hard.

It felt really good.

Fuck, what the fuck.

“Sweetheart?” He searched your face, brows pinching in confusion.

Feeling a little dazed, you shook your head to clear your mind, keenly aware that there was no space between your bodies, that you could press up against him easily. And you were warm, actually. Really, really warm.

“Sorry,” You murmured, forcing yourself to give him a placating little grin, “Just...a little overwhelmed, I think.” You admitted, conceding a partial truth that you knew would suffice.

Instantly, his expression softened and he was backing up, pulling you with him until he was leaning against the wall. He spread his feet apart and pulled you to stand between them, his hands moving to cup your face gently as he looked down at you with kind eyes. You think you stopped breathing. You think he did too. He seemed surprised at his actions.

“I’m sorry, I’ve been teasing you for days,” He sighed after a pause, one thumb absentmindedly stroking your cheek. You were going to combust or pass out, or maybe just evaporate on the spot. “Good news is, I’m pretty sure the General has another mission that’ll take us out of this parsec for a day or two. Should give everyone enough time to move on.” His other hand moved from your face to brush back a few stray hairs, his eyes following the movement hungrily. They were darker still.

There was a familiarity in that darkness.

“That-that’s uh, good,” You stammered, your eyes moving everywhere except to meet his. You were afraid of what he’d see if he looked directly at you. Of what you’d see...but you didn’t understand why you were afraid.

You just got Poe back, you weren’t fucking this up. Get it together, get it together, breathe...

“I know I don’t need to ask,” His voice was low, the timbre shooting straight to your core, “But are you okay to fly, because you seem a little out of it.” His voice sounded wrecked, like it was painful to be speaking.

You nodded hastily, pressing your hands into his abdomen for some unknown reason. You could feel the muscle under his shirt, hell you could remember what it felt like to touch those muscles, to drag your tongue along the surprisingly soft skin, before...before...

Oh fuck.

You think you realized what was happening a moment before it was too late to react, your brain opting to shut down as pleasure ripped through your body with a ferocity that knocked you clean over. With a shuddering moan, you collapsed into Poe as your orgasm rocked through you, unable to speak now as wave after wave turned you into a whimpering mess. He caught you, his face confused even as he unknowingly rutted his hips against you and started trembling.

“What-?” He got a good look at your face then and realization dawned, his expression twisting in horror. “Oh shit, shit,” He groaned, clutching you harder against him and you heard him breathe out your name, equal parts fear and desire colouring his tone before he sunk to his knees, bringing you down with him, and his body stilled.

His orgasm tore through him just as violently, the only thing he could think to do was nuzzle his head into your neck and hide his face as he came. You were limp, your body jerking and convulsing as the high never ended, it seemed to hold at its peak and just drag you along for the ride, unwillingly. In the very back of your mind, you recognized that what was happening was, undoubtedly, an aftereffect to the pollen you’d been exposed to weeks prior. The nightly dreams, subsequent orgasms, the way fire licked up your spine at every touch from Poe...it made sense, and if you weren’t currently trying to keep yourself and Poe quiet as you each came, you’d probably be feeling like a first-class idiot for not reporting the exposure.

“Fuck,” You whimpered pitifully, clinging to Poe for life. You felt another hand on your shoulder suddenly and registered a voice saying your name. It took a few moments to find enough clarity to look up, blinking through the haze to find Temmin standing over you both, his expression frantic with concern.

“Major, (y/n), tell me what’s happening, talk to me here!”

“T-Temmin...we, we were exposed on our, shit,” You had to pause as your orgasm seemed to notch up another level, dropping your head to hide your face against Poe’s. “Mission. Red fertility plant, help, oh maker please help!” You cried out, the burning and heat threatening to undo you completely, no longer overwhelmed with lust but now a high that seemed too far for humans, your heart hammering in your chest like it wanted to break out, run away from you and abandon your trembling body as you burned.

You slumped over, distantly aware of Temmin roaring for medics, but determined to bring your focus to Poe, who was now holding you too tightly. You realized he was speaking into your neck, and you had to tilt your head awkwardly to hear. Your vision was narrowing now, but you could hear him perfectly.

“I can’t hurt you again, don’t let me hurt her, please make it stop.” He repeated this plea over and over, and it was the only thing you could hear as your eyes began to close, as other hands were on you, pulling him away and you fought to keep him close until the heat became too much and a sudden stinging cool hit your arm and you were falling, down and into an unknown abyss, your last thoughts swirling in your head louder than any voice around you.

‘Don’t let me hurt him again, please don’t let me hurt Poe again...’

—

Temmin paced the med-bay waiting area frantically, waiting for an update from the Healers on both the Commander and Major’s statuses. He’d been leaving the hangar when he found them in the hallway, clinging to one another as they seemed to convulse with pain, and it had fucking terrified him. It had made some sense when you’d be able to gasp out an explanation that you’d each been exposed to a fertility plant during your mission. But he didn’t have any room to be embarrassed that you were both essentially having orgasms in front of him because you looked so scared and confused and Poe’s words were stuck in his brain now.

“Please don’t let me hurt her again, make it stop, I can’t hurt her, she’s everything to me, please make it stop...”

While he knew he was a less emotional sort of man, Temmin wasn’t an idiot. He knew that Poe and you were soulmates who’d been through some seriously dark shit. That you just needed to work through it all to find your way back to one another. And apparently, you had started the process-finally-during your classified mission. He had been overjoyed at the change in your interactions with one another, that you seemed to be friends again, at least.

But he’d also noticed the weird reactions you both had to some of his more inappropriate teasing, seen how you would both flush and change the subject and he thought at first that maybe you had started dating again, only something seemed off. You had become increasingly more wound up over the weeks, and Poe had appeared to turn inward more and more, as though his thoughts were so intense he was trying to conceal them with every fibre of his being from everyone.

You had only mentioned a suspicious plant in your reports from your mission. It had been with dawning horror, as he screamed for Healers, that Temmin understood you’d mentioned the flowers because you’d been exposed. That whatever had happened upon exposure had been so bad that neither you nor Poe wanted to include it in your reports.

“Captain?” A Healer came out from the back, a soothing expression on her face that told him you at least weren’t dead.

He hurried forward nonetheless, “Maker, Healer Brooks, please tell me they’re going to be alright!”

Did you enjoy this chapter? Consider leaving a comment or reblogging to ease my inner turmoil as a writer. Thank you 🤍

@mermaidxatxheart @foxilayde @eleinemk @paintballkid711 @mylifeisactuallyamess @20th-centu-fairy-girl @deitysnips @cannedsoupsucks @ubri812 @poedameronloverx @hoeforthefictional @astrological-bitch @itsnottilly @its-djarin @alex-sulli

#reader insert #poe dameron x reader #night changes series #fanfic #angst #fluff #poe dameron #multichapter #friends to lovers #star wars #poe x reader #oscar isaac #poe dameron fanfic #poe dameron x female reader #poe smut

[whump-a-la-mode]

Villainsicle - Part 14

Thanks to everyone for all the comments on the last part, and especially to @the-polari-person for the memes they made. Everyone really wants to punch Medic, and I think this part will reinforce that. I hope you enjoy!

Taglist:

@whatwhumpcomments

@sola-whumping

@professional-idiocy

@trappedgoose-in-a-writblr-room

@literally-just-kirby​

@the-polari-person

@teachunks

@daydreamed-snippets-2nd-blog

@sunflower1000

@lightdrinker-blog

@regalwritten

CW//Whumpee liking whumper, pet whump, dehumanization, conditioned whumpee, orders, implied past torture, mentions of death, mentions of execution, arguing, conspiracy

Traitor ran their fingers affectionately through Villain’s hair.

“An Asset can be far greater than any weapon you may have ever yielded in the past. I am sure you have all heard of the incident suffered by our late former Asset Coordinator, but any equipment can malfunction.

I assure you, the risk is worth it. May they rest in peace. But, a well-trained Asset is just as dangerous as a well-maintained gun. With the right care, it will only harm those who must be harmed.”

The somewhat sorrowful expression that had begun to show through disappeared, replaced by a sharp smirk.

“But words can only do so much. Demonstration is much better. Cadet!”

Villain drew back, nodding firmly their acknowledgement. There was a notable strangeness to their gait, a refusal to put weight on their leg.

“Circumspicio.”

Another firm nod, before they closed their eyes. For a few moments, tense and quiet as they were, their hair rose about their head, writhing like an inferno of serpents. When they at last opened their eyes, their hair did not calm.

“Eight soldier on deck, move left. Two plane on deck. Most soldier sleeping, in dorm. Supervillain talk to Department Head. Assets in kennel.”

“Where is Ali Silica?”

“Ali Silica, in kitchen, drink water.”

“Maximilian Kesim.”

“Maximilian Kesim, in dorm. Sleep.”

“Ella Jacklin.”

“Ella Jacklin, on deck. Has weapon. Guard door 24.”

“Good.” Traitor’s gaze returned to stare forth. “My Asset may not be particularly useful in situations of combat, but it is invaluable for recon and scouting. They can see through our cameras, our computers, all of it. And in an enemy base? Every enemy movement can be mapped. I can’t count how many times it has saved my life.

It is the most valuable Asset we have. Usually, we would not be doing something like this. But, my Asset is currently off duty due to an injury. And thus, welcome to the course.”

Again, they laid their hand atop Villain’s head.

They smiled.

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Villain looked at the camera.

That was all Counselor could look at, all they could notice. The other action on screen was immediately rendered irrelevant to them.

No. They could only see those eyes.

The same eyes they’d spent the last weeks gazing back at, in person and picture alike. At the very least, they were the same eyes, on the same person. In every physical sense, Villain was the same.

But...

They were happy. Maybe they weren’t, maybe it was just a trick of the light... But, no, no matter how Counselor squinted, what they told themself, they could not ignore that fact. Villain’s eyes glimmered with contentment, pressing their head into Traitor’s hand, who stroked their hair affectionately. 

There was nothing fake, nothing practiced, about that warmth. It was just as real as the sorrowful or fearful expressions that Counselor had seen on Villain’s face so often. The only ones they ever seemed to show.

They were happy. Why were they happy? Ordered about, spoken about like an object... And why were they talking like that? They were generally rather quiet, but they never seemed to struggle with their speech.

It wasn’t until Hero spoke up that Counselor realized their mouth had been hanging ajar.

“I...”

Hero was at just as much of a loss for words as they were.

“I don’t know.” Counselor shook their head, frowning. “P-Pause it. Please. I don’t want to see it.”

They did so.

For a long, tense moment, the two sat there, one in the computer chair, the other with their legs dangling off the bed. It was Counselor, who managed to clear their throat first.

“Where did you get this?”

“The flashdrive?”

“Mhm.”

“Leader. Leader gave it to me.”

“Leader?”

“I didn’t... I don’t know. I guess it makes sense?”

“It does, but...” Counselor gripped a clump of blanket in their fist, knuckles quickly turning white. “I, Hero, what the fuck! I don’t know what I expected. Some sort of backstory, certainly, but... What did Traitor do to them?”

It wasn’t the type of explosive tone that they often took, but they couldn’t help it. Couldn’t help but release the furious flame burning in their chest, its smoke scratching their throat.

“I don’t know.” Hero shook their head. “What is the, the Asset program? That wasn’t a thing when we worked for them, was it?”

“No. No, I don’t think so. I certainly never heard of it.”

“Me neither.”

“You think...”

“Do I think that’s why Leader looks like they’re about to faint whenever you so much as mention Villain? Absolutely! You’d think they would have told us.”

“I- I guess. What is there even to say? What was that even about?”

“It certainly wasn’t meant for an uninformed audience. Something about... training? Training assets?”

“That’s what Villain was, weren’t they? An... Asset.”

“I think so. A... A forced soldier. Traitor was treating they like a fucking dog.”

“Yeah.” Hero nodded.

“And...”

“An incident. What were they saying about an incident?”

“Someone died. The way they were talking about it, I think. Someone died. Whoever tried to make videos about this beforehand? An... Asset Coordinator?”

“That’s certainly what it sounded like.”

Counselor tried to release the grip they held on the blanket, but found themself unable. Tension and fury kept their muscles clenched, blood pounding their ears, even as they did little more than sit.

“Were they ever really a villain at all?” They finally whispered. “In the video, it was all orders. They were just following orders. We’ve been treating them like a villain this whole time, but-”

“I think we need to see more.” Hero interrupted. “We need to- We need to know. How long until this flashdrive mysteriously goes missing?”

“I don’t know.” Counselor bit the inside of their cheek. “I can’t. I’m sorry. I can’t. I need to-”

“You really should. We should.”

“I know. I know. But I need to see Villain.”

“Oh.”

“You watch, okay? I’m going to talk to them.”

“About... it?”

“Yeah.” They nodded, before frowning, their gaze becoming downcast. “How long until they mysteriously go missing?”

“Fair enough.”

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“Are you hungry?”

The Asset- no, dammit, Villain looked up as Counselor entered the hospital room. The thoughts, the words of the video refused to stop swirling in their mind, twisting even their inner monologue, now.

The blankets on their bed were turned and tossed about-- either they had tried to get up, or they had not slept well. Neither option was good.

But they were awake now.

“Are you hungry, Villain?” Counselor repeated themself, approaching the bedside. An impulse to straighten the bed linens ran through them, but their hands were full-- they placed the platter down on the table beside the hospital bed.

They took a moment to reply, as if they were unsure whether or not they were expected to speak. They decided upon the former.

“Yes.”

“That’s good. I made you some lunch.”

“Lunch?”

“Y’know, when you eat at noon.”

“I- I know. Sorry. Don’t usually eat lunch.”

“You don’t?”

“Medic says I only need dinner.”

“Oh.” Another wave of furious warmth ran through them, but they let it burn out. It wasn’t the time. “Well, if you’re hungry, I have food for you.”

“Y-Yes. Sorry. Thank you, uh, thank you.”

“Of course.”

Villain sat up, taking the platter from their bedside table. It was a simple arrangement-- with little to no knowledge of what exactly Medic was up to, Counselor had decided to play it safe, making whatever was least likely to upset Villain’s stomach. A sandwich, some yogurt, and some carrots. Simple and small, but food.

Yet, as the former Asset gazed at the plate, they looked almost confused. Genuinely perplexed, staring at an abstract painting.

“Is everything okay?”

“Yes! Sorry, I’m sorry.”

“You have nothing to be sorry for. What’s wrong?”

“It’s just... This doesn’t look like what Medic has me eat.”

Counselor frowned.

“What does Medic have you eat?”

“Um... Don’t, um.” They furrowed their brow, looking for all the world to be trying to do mental calculus. “Don’t know word, um, I don’t know what it is called. It’s white, and dry. Tastes like chalk.”

At that point, Counselor would have believed it if Villain had told them that Medic was making them eat actual chalk.

“Well... This is something different, for today.”

“Okay.”

Still, the food before them put a confused expression on their face. Eventually, after considering it for a long moment, Villain began to tear pieces off the sandwich, eating them in that manner.

“Villain?”

“Yes?”

“Can I ask you a question?”

“Y-Yeah. Yeah. Of course.”

“Do you know someone named Traitor?”

Villain’s hand stopped, halfway through bringing a piece of food to their mouth. They put it back down.

They nodded.

“They didn’t call them that.”

“What did they call them?”

“Trainer.”

“And they called you Cadet.”

Villain’s teeth snapped together, gritting hard enough that they seemed about to crack.

“Yes. I didn’t... I didn’t think you knew.”

“I...” There was no reason to lie. “I didn’t. Not until just a minute ago.”

“Oh.”

“I’m sorry.”

“Don’t be sorry.” Villain shook their head. “It’s okay.”

“Is it okay if I... Is it okay if I ask you about it?”

Villain frowned for a moment-- looking as though they were actually considering the question. Even as much as Counselor wanted to hear a yes, even the fact that they were thinking it through made them swell with hope.

“Yes. Yes, it’s okay.”

“Okay.” They weren’t sure when their voice had grown so quiet, so placating. As though they were whispering in a far larger room. “They called you an Asset. What is that?”

“Um... We were weapons, I think.”

“There were multiple?”

“Mhm.” They nodded, ever so slightly, like their head was locked in place. “Not many made it... They kept us prisoner, for a long time. Before the collapse. Before your rebellion. Said we were useful only as lab rats. Then... Something changed. They decided we were useful. Started training.”

“Training?”

“We didn’t want to fight for them. So we weren’t given a choice.”

“You were... You were there, all that time?”

“When you rebelled, I guess- You didn’t know about us, did you?”

“No.”

“No one did.”

“And then they wanted your help.”

“They didn’t give a choice. I guess there was a choice. You could obey, or...”

“Or?”

“Or kill your handler.”

“What did they-”

“They shot the ones that acted up like that. Said it wasn’t worth losing soldiers over.”

“But you...”

“I-” Their voice hiccuped, catching in their throat. “I didn’t want to. Not at first.”

“They hurt you?”

“Some. I guess. Trainer had a whip. But that wasn’t their style. They needed us intact. They had other ways.”

“Oh.”

Villain turned the conversation about.

“How did you find out?”

“A video.”

“A video?”

More cautiously, this time, Villain ate another piece of sandwich.

“Some kind of training video. We found it on a computer. We took it, from Organization.”

“Oh.”

“You...”

“The one I was in.”

“Yeah.”

Villain’s lips pursed into a thin line. They picked up their plate, putting it back on the nightstand, before throwing aside their blanket.

Their hospital gown was thin and wispy-- they moved aside the fabric covering their lower leg.

A hole. That was the only word that would be in any way appropriate to describe the wound-- a hole, dug out of flesh. Healed and faded, so much so that the scar tissue had turned white, but it was still there. Still horrid enough to make Counselor’s stomach twist with nausea.

“What is...”

“A gunshot.”

“A gun did that?”

“Yeah. Really close up.”

“Oh.”

“Mhm.”

“You were hurt, in the video.”

“Yeah.”

“It was...”

“It was this. I got hurt. Got shot. I couldn’t walk for a long time, couldn’t fight for a lot longer than that. Was stuck in the med bay. But I could walk, so they figured I could do the videos.”

Counselor nodded their understanding, as best as they could manage. Villain recovered the wound.

“Villain?”

“Yeah?”

“You left. Did you leave? On your own?”

“Um... It was more complicated than that.”

“You were rescued?”

They seemed to consider for a moment, before nodding.

“Leader.”

For a split second, Counselor thought they had imagined the word.

“Leader?”

“They saved me. By, um, by shooting me.”

“They...”

“They shot me in the leg.”

“I’m not sure I understand.”

“I don’t know if you can.” Villain diverted their gaze quickly. “Sorry, that was mean. It’s just, I mean, things were different back then. You have a choice. You left because you wanted to. Because you didn’t believe in what you were doing.”

“Yeah.”

“I didn’t know what I was doing. I guess I had some idea, but, not really. I just did what Train- Traitor said.” Their head lurched upward. “They’re okay, right?”

“What?”

“Trainer. They’re okay, right?”

“I- I guess I don’t know. We haven’t done anything to harm them.”

“Okay. Okay.”

“You... You liked them?”

“I miss them.” They drew their legs to their chest, hugging them. “A lot.”

“You miss them?”

“Mhm.” There was somehow a terribly sorrowful tone to the humming. “I left them. But I miss them.”

“Did you... Did you escape? On your own?”

“I guess.” They straightened their legs back out. “The longer I was in the med bay, the less security there was. After a while, I think they forgot I was there. They just left me there, in that bed. Leader... Did they ever tell you?”

“About what?”

“About what they told me.”

“No. They didn’t even tell us they shot you.”

“They said it, right before they shot me. It was, um, it was an address. They said if I went there, I could get help. Then they shot me.”

“An address?”

“In Oregon. It was the first anyone had spoken to me in, I guess in years, at that point. They spoke around me, but never in English?”

“They didn’t speak English? They did when I was there.”

“Yeah, before they went all evil. Decided they wanted to speak Latin. I didn’t even know that that’s what it was, at the time. I never understood a word of it, still don’t. Then Leader came along, and spoke to me. In a language I knew. And it made me think, think like I hadn’t in such a long time.”

“In the video, in the video they were speaking English.”

“Mhm.” Villain nodded. “That was the second time I’d heard a language I understood. It’s like I woke up, like I’d been sleeping for forever. Like I remembered I was human. And, when the ship got close enough to the West coast...”

“You jumped ship.”

“I almost drowned doing it, too. But I didn’t. And I made it to the address.”

“And that was six months ago.”

“A year ago. I collapsed on a stranger’s doorstep, and they took me in. And... that’s it.”

“That’s it.”

“Mhm.”

They again took the platter, beginning to again pick at their food. Counselor let them eat in silence.

In the end, it was Villain who spoke up.

“Counselor?”

“Yeah?”

“I know Leader wanted to do good. I know they wanted to help. But... if I had the choice. If i could do it all again, I never would have left.”

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“Of course they wouldn’t have. They’re an Asset.”

Medic spoke the words before the door was even fully open, yet Counselor heard them loud and clear, looking up and spinning around.

“Cadet, sedeo.”

The Asset fell without resistance. Medic could not help but clench their fists as they closed the door behind them, approaching their patient’s bed.

The smell of food permeated the room. Real food. Unregulated and unweighted and breaking the rules, breaking the pattern.

“What the actual hell do you think you’re doing?” They spat, turning to Counselor, sitting at Villain’s bedside like some kind of grieving idiot.

“They were hungry.” The response was firm, their adversary’s eyes narrowed. “So I fed them.”

“Did I not tell you that they have very specific feeding requirements?”

“You did.”

“And you don’t care?”

“Not really, no.”

Medic gritted their teeth.

No matter what this idiot excuse for a therapist thought, they weren’t stupid. Allowing them to see Medic’s patient had been a gesture of good will.

They should never have allowed it. They should have known this would happen.

Their plan had been going so goddamn well. Their patient responding to stimuli, to altered variables, as had been expected. As had been planned. As had been rigorously calculated.

And this piece of shit had ruined it. They had thrown off the experiment, the results, all of it!

The symptoms were showing as expected. Every single one of them. They were so damn close to starting the final phase, and now...

“What are you trying to do, Counselor...”

“They were hungry, so I fed them.”

“No, not that. I know you did that. But... all of this. Trying to help them. Trying to fight me. Why?”

“Because you’re hurting them.”

“We already went over this.”

“Well, at the very least, you aren’t helping them.”

“I’m treating them.”

“You’re keeping them alive. That’s it.”

“And what are you trying to do, pray tell?’

“What?”

“Counselor, what the hell is your end goal, here?”

There was no way this excuse for a social worker would see the right side of things, see the same way Medic did. But, at the very least, they could try to make them open their eyes, for once in their goddamn life.

“My end goal is making them better.”

“And then what?”

“What?”

“Say Villain gets better. One hundred percent healed. Then what?”

“Whatever they want.” Counselor drew back their upper lip. “You called them an Asset.”

“Yes, I did.”

“You knew.”

“And I see you do now, as well.”

“You should have told me.”

“You never asked.”

“You still should have told me! How could you have known and not done anything about it?”

Medic clenched their hands into fists.

“Because I was part of Organization. So were you. And Hero, and Leader, and everyone. Remember that were a rebellion. A splinter group.”

“I was part of Organization, and I didn’t know.”

“Well, I did.”

“And you didn’t do anything.”

“Is that what you’re going to bemoan me for, now? Because I didn’t leave as quickly as you? Because I was a department head? Because I didn’t have a chance? Because-”

“Shut up.”

“If this is what you’re going to get on my case about, now?”

“Maybe I am.”

“What about Leader, then? What about-”

“This isn’t about them!”

“They were married to Supervillain!”

“We all got over that a long time ago. If you want a fight, let’s at least do it over something that matters. When Villain is better, and I mean when, I will let them choose what they want to do.”

“Will you?”

“Yes.”

“You said it yourself, they’re a villain. When they were free, on their own, they were hurting people.”

“We can talk about it. Find out why. Help them.”

“And if they don’t want to stop? Are you really planning on just letting them go back out there? Because, what, it makes you feel better about yourself?”

“N- No. I wouldn’t.”

“Then you’d keep them prisoner.”

“Maybe.”

“And they’d stay sick.”

“How do you know that?”

“Because they’re an Asset. How often do you use your powers?”

“I- I don’t know. Once or twice a week?”

“Exactly. They spent months of their life going on daily missions, using their powers. Now they aren’t using them. Now they’re sick.”

“You’re saying...”

“What we’re doing, it’s like trying to keep a Border Collie as a lap dog. They need to use their powers, because they were an Asset. It’s what their brain has gotten used to. We can’t change that. We can’t change the past.”

“They aren’t going to be an Asset again. We aren’t like that. We aren’t Organization.”

Of course, the soft one would say that.

“That’s not what I’m saying. But it’s the only theory that makes sense to me, at this point. And if they have to use their powers anyways, they may as well be helping us.”

“Shut up.”

“I haven’t-”

“Just shut up, okay? You’re talking about them like they’re not even there.”

“They can’t hear us.”

“Wake them up.”

“I will in a moment.” Medic sighed. “Look. I can’t see the future. I don’t know what’s going to happen. But I do know that their training starts tomorrow.”

Counselor gritted their teeth.

“So.” Medic slumped their shoulders. “From tomorrow onwards, you may feed them as you wish.”

It was a sacrifice. Another gesture of good will, of trying to gain trust. They were giving up one variable in their experiment, turning it from a control to something wild, something they couldn’t control.

But, maybe, that was a good thing.

Handing over the experiment to another scientist-- as much as Counselor could be considered a scientist. Passing on the blame. Turning the causation into correlation.

Counselor nodded.

“Okay.”

#villainsicle #villain whumpee #hero villain whump #whump community #whump

[lesbianlotties]

Comfort Food - Dani/Grace - Terminator: Dark Fate

Chapters: 1/1 Fandom: Terminator (Movies) Rating: General Audiences Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply Relationships: Grace Harper/Dani Ramos Characters: Dani Ramos, Grace Harper, Sarah Connor, Carl (Terminator) Additional Tags: Not Canon Compliant, Alternate Universe - Everyone Lives/Nobody Dies, Post-Canon, Missing Scene, McDonald's, Fast Food, Comfort Food, Fluff, basically grace survives and they stop by mcdonalds after they escape Words: 2870

The Rev-9 is destroyed. The four of them are barely alive after the fight. The first thing they need is to find a safe place to go.

That's when they step into McDonald's.

Sarah didn’t have time to say it, and she couldn’t exactly remember where she heard it first, but there was something oddly comforting about McDonald’s. That’s not to say she loved the place. A most likely despicable company, sure. But it was just so goddamned… big. It was available in most of the globe, and in every stupid country Sarah found herself in she could turn a corner and there it was, like a fucking mirage. The ridiculous “M”, the lights, the colors, the food, and the bathroom too. They were all mostly the same everywhere. The most childish spot for feeling like stepping into a sort of time loop. Somehow the most appropriate place to stop by after destroying the Rev-9.

The four of them were in various degrees of falling apart, some of them quite literally. “Wait here,” Sarah instructed Carl, not any more gently even after everything. He diligently hung back at the door, missing arm and all, while the three women entered the fast-food restaurant. “You two, sit,” Sarah pointed at one of the tables and confidently walked to the register. Dani and Grace hesitated at the door, but eventually gave in and followed the instructions.

Their little group probably looked beyond suspicious and out of place. They walked a long way until they found this place, and they were still covered in blood, dirt, and ashes. At least Dani’s long hair was the only thing still dripping water. Surprisingly, the employees of McDonald’s barely bat an eyelash at the new clients. It fascinated and worried Grace to think they weren’t the strangest thing these people had seen walk into the establishment in the middle of the night. Thankfully, there weren’t any other patrons.

“Are you alright?” Dani asked, as soon as the two were comfortably seated in one of the booths.

“Hm. Yeah, I think so,” Grace mumbled. She lowered her head, realizing Dani had noticed the way she had ungracefully fallen onto her seat, wincing and bleeding. “What about you?”

“Well, I’m alive.”

Dani’s answer came in a whisper. Her voice was trembling just slightly. This still wasn’t the time and place to think about the events that lead her here. However, this place, the bright lights above her, the clean floors, the smell of food, it was enough of a taste at normalcy to make her feel like she could take a break, like chaos was solved and she had made it out alive, for now. Which was enough, surprisingly. The best part? Seeing the moment that the words she just spoke fully registered in Grace’s mind as well. 

Dani had survived. The Rev-9 didn’t make it through the second explosion they had pushed it into. It was definitely gone. More and possibly worse problems could be waiting for them. But, for now, all that mattered was this, Dani’s little smile from the other side of the table. Dani was alive and Grace had completed her mission, “You know,” Grace started to speak, “I didn’t think…”

“Dig in,” Sarah interrupted them, dropping two trays of food on the table and sitting down beside Dani.

The following seconds were a quick flash of very different approaches to their meals from the three women. Sarah didn’t waste a second to get started on her burger. They needed food to stay alive, they had a chance to eat a warm meal, no time to waste. Dani, on the other hand, took a deep breath then turned her head away from the food. How could they eat after everything that just happened? Her stomach churned just thinking of all the violence she’d had to stomach since the previous days. Then there was Grace. For a second, she frowned at the food. Offended about the interruption, about the way it seemed to upset Dani, and… and then there was the smell of the fries. She took a handful of them, slowly chewed them, and then there was no turning back. She got started on her meal as if her life- as if Dani’s life depended on her eating that burger.

“Let’s get to the point,” Sarah announced after a few bites and a long sip of her drink. “Grace. The terminator was a hundred percent dead, correct?” Her question was met with silence and thumbs up, considering the augment soldier was halfway done with her burger. “And you? Will you live?” She ignored the look Dani her sent her way. Sarah was used to being blunt in worse scenarios, she wasn’t about to change things now. If anything, change within her was barely noticeable. But there was just something uncharacteristically earnest in her tone as she made her question. She cared about the answer, more than she was ready to admit.

They had to wait until Grace was done chewing, but finally, she got her appetite to slow down for a moment enough to give an answer. “There was a lot of damage,” she said, quickly scanning through the systems in her body, a series of unsatisfactory percentages showing up in her vision, but nothing too alarming. “Nothing I can’t fix,” Grace stated with finally, diving right back into her food. This would hold her up for a short while, but she would need to raid a pharmacy soon.

“Good,” Sarah nodded. After a few more moments of eating in silence, she turned toward Dani. “What about you? How, uh, how’re you holding up?”

Dani, almost without noticing, had started to slowly go through her set of fries. Eating them slowly, enjoying the warmth and the distraction. However, instead of answering, she ended up blurting out the first thing on her mind. “How are you so calm right now?”

“It isn’t my first rodeo. Hell, it isn’t even the second time I go through this shit,” Sarah replied, finishing her meal. “No time to dwell on it. We have to move to safety. Plus, we got that monster as a bodyguard waiting outside.” She nodded her head to the window, where they could glance at Carl, calmly waiting outside for them. Dani almost made a comment about Sarah forgetting her promise to destroy him if they managed to survive, but she decided against it. “I’m going to the bathroom,” Sarah continued, “you two finish up, get cleaned up. I’ll get us a phone and a vehicle. Then we need a pharmacy and a safe house. Don’t take too long.”

A moment later, she was done. Up and moving again. Dani was thinking about how much she would have to learn from Sarah, how much she would like to learn from her. Grace was thinking… “Dani,” she whispered, “Do you think I could get another one of these?”

“You can have mine,” Dani chuckled. She pushed the burger toward Grace. After taking notice of Grace’s frown and already knowing that was a sign for an upcoming speech about her protection and importance, she added, “Please, Grace. I can’t stomach it right now.”

Grace was reassured by the fact that Dani at least was steadily eating her fries. Encouraged by her deep hunger, she accepted the burger. “Thank you,” she smiled. After taking the first bite she made a sound of appreciation. If her attention wasn’t all taken by Dani and her meal, she would have attempted to think about how profundly human she felt. It was a comfort to eat this incredibly ordinary food and pretend everything was perfectly normal about her, her life, and the world around her.

“What were you going to say,” Dani asked her without preamble, “before the food arrived?”

“It doesn’t matter,” Grace shook her head softly.

It wasn’t convincing in the slightest. Even less so to Dani, whose stubbornness could easily match Sarah’s and Grace’s. But then again, there was something mesmerizing, comforting, but also so simple and easy about watching Grace have the time of her life eating ridiculous McDonald’s food. It rendered Dani speechless. It got her thinking a little. About the way Grace had gone through so many years without these simple pleasures. About the way Grace’s body worked differently, but the bigger part of her was always so endearingly human. About Grace in general, fascinating even under the worst conditions. Done with what little food she could tolerate and soothed by the space and the company around her, Dani allowed herself to close her eyes for just one moment…

“Dani… Dani?”

Grace’s voice eased her out of that unlikely sleep she had fallen into. The soldier sounded concerned enough to still sound like Grace. But it was undeniable the hint of amusement and fondness in her tone. Was she used to waking up her Commander from accidental naps like that? Was that a spark of jealousy that Dani was feeling for her own self of the future?

“Sorry,” she attempted an awkward laugh. “Let’s stop by the bathroom. We don’t want Sarah causing a scene because we’re taking too long.”

“Take your time,” Grace said. Her words were soft, her frown was unforgiving. The fondness between her and Sarah was reciprocated, but still complicated. Grace wouldn’t hesitate to stand her ground against anyone that tried to disturb Dani’s brief moments of peace.

The bathroom was another unlikely little piece of heaven. It was clean, empty, functional, quiet. Most importantly, it looked like Sarah had acquired a first aid kit from the employees and left it behind for the two of them. What followed was a slow and steady process of dealing with the most pressing issues both of them had. First, a visit to the toilet, sure. Then, washing faces, hands, and arms. Grace wet her hair, and was almost completely unaware of Dani's appreciative stares at the whole process. They didn’t have a lot to work with, and there were a lot of bandages and healing in their near future. But, at the very least, they had a small bottle of alcohol, and they did what they could with it.

Cut clean and bodies slightly refreshed, Dani had time to openly stare at Grace. “You’re incredible,” she sighed. She hadn’t meant to just blurt it out, but at the same time she couldn’t figure out a reason not to. Grace turned to look at her with genuine wonder in her eyes. “It already looks better,” Dani added, pointing at the wound on Grace’s neck. Back at the dam, it had looked beyond deadly. It would have been, to anyone who wasn’t an augmented soldier, apparently. Now the wound appeared to be closed, at least. Though there was still a long road of healing ahead.

“See? I still got it,” Grace replied. Technically, the smile she wore at that moment was small. But it was so… new, to Dani, that she found it to be the brightest most beautiful thing in the world. For a moment she felt like the luckiest person on Earth knowing that now she would have time to really get to know Grace, her sense of humor, her personality beyond being a soldier, all of her. She didn’t even have time to think about all the upcoming smiles from Grace that would soon come to lovingly blind her. For an instant, Dani opened her mouth to reply, but then she closed it and turned away to stare at the mirror again. “What?” Grace gently prompted her.

Dani took a deep breath, and started washing her hands again, quite unnecessarily too, but it was better than staring at the other woman as she said, “It’s just that… not running for our lives? Looks good on you.”

Grace stayed silent. She took her time processing the information. The look on her face was complicated. A small arch in her eyebrows showed she was at least a little impressed by the compliment. Then there was that absolutely gorgeous pair of expressive blue eyes. They were delighted, caught off guard, for sure, and very appreciative for Dani’s matching ease, the first time she saw her relaxed and awake since they met. But there was an unmistakable hint of grief, nostalgia for something impossible to recover, even if what was in front of her was just as good.

Dani took the opportunity to ask something that she hasn’t been able to shake off her mind. “What were you going to say,” she slowly asked Grace a second time, “before the food arrived?”

The expression on Grace’s face instantly dimmed, but she didn’t look too bothered about it either. “I just didn’t think I would survive this far,” she gave a small shrug, “that’s all.”

That’s all, she said. As if that wasn’t a pretty significant thing, Dani thought. “I can’t imagine,” Dani frowned and spoke in whispers, while Grace tilted her head and listened intently. “I can’t imagine… ever, you know, being the person that gives the order to send you, Grace, in a suicide mission.”

“It’s not like that,” Grace shook her head softly. She was leaning against the sink, staring at Dani with all the devotion she couldn’t seem to shake off her eyes whenever they locked eyes. “I volunteered,” Grace said, “I, you and I, we both knew I’d be the best one to protect you.”

“Why is that?” Dani asked, considerably more breathless than she meant to. Then she took a hesitant step forward, and nearly started shaking when Grace mimicked her move.

“Can’t you tell?”

In the back of her mind, Dani was thinking about how she could probably spend the rest of her life analyzing that question, and the way Grace said those three words. She was genuinely asking, she was hopeful, she was afraid, she was sad, she was… She was placing a hand on Dani’s cheek. Grace was cradling Dani’s jaw with a delicacy and gentleness that most likely shouldn’t be possible in a soldier like her, wounded, traumatized, transformed, and scarred. But Dani felt like the two of them were standing on top of a cloud, leaning forward, looking up into crystal clear blue eyes…

“A car is here,” Grace announced, sharply turning her head to the right and schooling her expression back into deadly professionalism.

“Righ,” Dani exhaled a heavy sigh, took an extra moment to recover herself, and added, “Let’s go.” Then, without allowing herself to think too hard about it, grabbed Grace’s hand and led her outside. She didn’t look back to see Grace’s reaction to her taking the lead like that, but she could have made a pretty good guess.

Outside McDonald’s, they met Carl. The retired Terminator looked at them with his familiar but stoic stare and said, “I hope your meals were satisfactory.”

“Yeah,” Dani nodded, “Thanks.”

“Is that safe?” Grace asked, nodding toward the car parking a few feet away from them.

“Stay put,” Sarah ordered as an answer.

Carl couldn’t help but take a couple of steps forward, to be closer to the stranger, to protect Sarah if necessary and possibly even against her will.

Hearing Sarah’s curt response, mutual fondness or not, Grace nearly groaned out loud in annoyance. She did tighten her hold on Dani’s hand. Which brought to Dani’s attention the fact that their fingers were still comfortably interlocked and how natural it felt to just continue to hold on.

“Hey, Grace,” she said softly, tugging a little on the hand she was holding.

With her attention back on Dani, Grace instantly relaxed. Irritation vanished from her face, and the pressure of her hand loosened a little too. “Yes?” she asked. Looking at her with that same exact spark of adoration from before. 

“Can I kiss you now?”

First, Grace just smiled at her. It was an honest grin. She genuinely looked elated. Not at all like she had expected this outcome based on experiences from a future that hadn’t happened. She looked overjoyed and relieved as if she was experiencing the completion of a dream she’d had her entire life. 

“Of course,” Grace replied, in the middle of taking a deep breath and exhaling a soft sigh.

Grace stepped closer, Dani placed a hand on the back of her neck, they met in the middle. At first, it felt like a spark, an explosion of all the action, the adrenaline, the terror, and the thrills they had experienced during nearly every second since they met. Then, the feeling melted into a slow and steady flame, it was comfort, relief, triumph, safety. It was an action of complete love, and hope, and the promise of a future together.

A moment of such levels of perfection, of course, could only be interrupted by the loud and tremendously inopportune sound of a car horn.

“Let’s go, lovebirds!” Sarah yelled from the window of the driver’s seat. She sounded like her usual self, even if she couldn’t hold back her smirk.

“Please,” Carl added, “excuse her for the interruption. Would you like to have an additional moment of privacy?”

“No, Carl, uh, thanks,” Dani replied, a giggle stuck in her throat. “We’re, um, we’re good. Yeah. Let’s… let’s go.” She could hardly keep her composure, not with Grace standing behind her, arm wrapped around her middle and holding her close, her lips smiling and pressing a kiss on the top of her head.

#me juggling 5 fandoms at the same time: i'm okay :) #please validate me it's my first fic for this fandom #terminator: dark fate #dani x grace #tdf #dani ramos #grace harper #sarah connor #carl #terminator dark fate #tdf fanfic #my fic

[harrysweasleys]

speechless // h.p

Summary: Can you do a Harry Potter x reader where reader is exactly like Richie Tozier and she defends him from Draco and his Slytherins? And Harry falls in love with her from then and everyone is teasing him?

Warnings: language ofc!!!

Word Count: 6k 

A/N: ok first off I cannot express my love for Richie Tozier enough. he’s a precious baby and I love him. also I’m so close to my next hundred! thank you all! (gif isn’t mine) xxxx

—

“Oi, mum sent me a package!”

Ron peeled open the box in front of him, repeatedly hitting Hermione in the ribs as he ripped the paper off the box, his face lighting up like a child on Christmas morning.

“I hope it’s a wig,” you piped up, “Because something really has to change about your hair.”

Ron glared at you, tossing the wrapping paper to the floor and kicking it under the table, “Ha, hilarious.”

He continued to rip at the box, eventually managing to tear it open. His eyes widened, his smile falling shortly after.

“Oh, is it a picture of yourself?” you pursed your lips and nodded condescendingly, “That’s the only thing that could have made you look so depressed.”

Hermione and Harry burst out laughing, however Ron kept a solemn expression as he took out the contents of the box, which happened to be a very old pair of dress robes — the collar was off-white and frilly and the thick sleeves were clearly moth-eaten. You put a hand over your mouth to hide your laughter, not wanting to make Ron’s mood any more sour than it was at that moment.

“Mum sent me...a dress?” Ron’s voice was defeated as he stood up, holding the dress robes at their full length.

“Wow,” you struggled to hold your laughter back, “I didn’t think anything could get worse than your hair but that’s awful.”

“Is there a bonnet?” Harry joined in on the teasing and reached into the package, taking out what appeared to just be a frilly mess, “Aha!” You grinned at Harry’s pleaser reaction.

Ron scowled at the two of you, walking away from the table and approaching his younger sister, “Ginny, these must be for you.”

Hermione started giggling, catching Ron’s attention. He peered back at her, silently asking what her problem was.

“They’re not for Ginny, they’re for you, they’re dress robes.”

Ron’s face lost all colour, making the situation a million times more amusing for you. Harry continued teasing his friend, Ron becoming more agitated by the minute. You tuned out the conversation where Hermione explained to Ron that they were dress robes, and focused on the breakfast plate in front of you, loving how every now and then Harry would nudge you and make another joke.

Ron stuffed the robes back in the box, wanting to hide them from the eyes of fellow students. Most of the Gryffindor table had seen them by now, everyone had a good laugh, but the last thing Ron wanted was to catch anyone else’s attention.

So, naturally, that’s exactly what happened.

“Weasel, what was that?”

The four of you turned your attention towards Draco Malfoy, who sauntered over to your section of the Gryffindor table with his goonies by his side.

You immediately fought the urge to stand up and punch him in the face — a natural urge when around Malfoy.

“I guess considering how poor your family is, those awful dress robes are all you could afford,” Malfoy smirked at Ron’s flushed face, which was now facing the floor.

You stood up, “Oi, we didn’t ask for a conversation with an arrogant asshole today.”

Malfoy’s eyes shot daggers at you, Crabbe and Goyle flexing their ‘muscles’ as if trying to warn you, “How dare you—”

“—talk to me, yeah, I’ve heard the speech before,” you cut him off, crossing your arms across your chest, “Now, leave, thanks. Seeing your face made me lose my appetite.”

As if rendered speechless, Malfoy rolled his eyes and stormed off, followed by his two shadows. You smirked and sat back down, continuing to pick at your breakfast silently while Harry, Ron and Hermione smiled at you.

“What’re you all staring at?” you asked, not bothering to look up.

Ron shook his head, “I reckon I’ve never seen Malfoy speechless before.”

You shrugged nonchalantly, “It’s a gift, I leave people speechless.”

The three of them laughed, the conversation going back to normal as you finished off your breakfast, mentally preparing for another loooong day of classes.

— —

“There’s gonna be a ball?” you scoffed, turning to Hermione wide a bewildered expression, “We’re expected to dress up? Oh, the nightmare.”

She tried to stifle her smile so McGonagall wouldn’t call the two of you out, “It’s not horrible, is it? I think it’s about time we do something fancier here.” She glanced quickly over at Ron before turning her attention back to you. But, being as attentive as always, you caught her not-so-subtle glance.

You widened your eyes, faking a gasp, “You already know who you want to go with, don’t you?”

She shushed you quickly, trying to make sure no one heard your outburst. You could see the blush rise to her cheeks, already giving you the answer you needed. You knew damn well she had feelings for Ron, but she really did try her hardest to hide them.

“Y/N! Don’t just be blurting out stuff like that,” she forced a neutral expression, “And no. I don’t know who I want to go with. Nor does it matter.”

You nodded, not believing her, “Whatever answer floats your boat, I guess.”

She furrowed her eyebrows, “Well, who do you want to go with then?”

You turned away from her, eyes subconsciously darting towards Harry — who was so zoned out he didn’t even notice your glance — and turned back to Hermione, “No one. No one’s good enough, of course.”

She rolled her eyes, “I call your bluff.”

“Well call whatever bluff you want,” you shrugged, leaning back in your chair and turning away from her to face McGonagall, “Can’t fight the truth.”

She didn’t press the subject any further, but continued to peer at you through the corner of her eye, thankfully missing every time you looked over at Harry.

You couldn’t deny, Harry Potter was a catch. He was cute, fun to be around, and had recently fought off a dragon. I mean, the whole package, right? It wasn’t hard for you to develop a crush, the feelings came so naturally.

However, you were fairly certain the dark haired boy didn’t feel at all the same about you. He never showed interest, nor did he go out of his way to be with you. It stung a little when you’d catch him watching the perfect little Cho Chang make her way through the Great Hall, but you weren’t going to let it bring you down. He wasn’t yours, after all.

“Now, next time we meet I will be giving you dance lessons—”

You had finally tuned back in to what McGonagall was saying, trying your best to seem as if you hadn’t just floated off.

“—So, the rest of your class is a free period.”

You stood up hastily, grabbing Hermione’s wrist and walking over to where Harry and Ron were sitting, the two of them standing up and grumbling about dancing.

“Boy, oh, boy,” you let go of Hermione’s wrist and placed your hands on your waist, “A dance, huh? What’d ya think about that, Ronald? You gonna ask anyone?”

Ron’s face went blank and Hermione stomped discreetly on your foot, telling you that you had overstepped your boundaries. You hoped she’d forgive you for this.

“Uh, I don’t know,” Ron shrugged, looking between you and Hermione. You were destined to set those two up, nothing was going to stop you.

“You sure? C’mon, handsome lad like you’s gotta find a date. And you Hermione, you’re, ya know, smart and fun, don’t you want to bring a date as well?” you grinned, knowing damn well how uncomfortable you were making them. They both shifted awkwardly, stealing glances back and forth, none of them knowing what to say next. Ron’s feelings for Hermione were just as obvious, really.

“Well, I’ve made things weird, haven’t I?” you smirked, placing your arm around Harry’s neck. You ignored the way goosebumps formed at the contact, choosing to believe it was from how warm his skin was.

“Yes, you have, thanks,” Hermione spoke through gritted teeth, glaring daggers at you.

“Apologies,” you bowed slightly, “Let’s leave them be, Harry.”

Harry, laughing and sharing a confused expression with Ron, followed you out. You took your arm away from him, stealing a glance back to see that Ron and Hermione were still standing in awkward silence, and turned into the hallway.

“Nice work, maybe they’ll finally work up their courage,” Harry grinned at you, nodding approvingly at your set up, “You’re a natural matchmaker, Y/N.”

“See, they just needed a push, is all—oof,” you were cut off, bumping forcefully into a body of someone much larger than you. Your sight went dark, the only thing you knew was that the person tended immediately upon impact.

You pulled away, noticing the deathly glare Crabbe was now sending you.

“Oh, it’s just you,” you sighed in relief, “It went dark for a second, I thought I saw the end.”

Harry coughed to hide his laughter, pulling lightly on your sleeve to tell to you walk away. His tugging only became more aggressive once Malfoy stepped out from behind Crabbe, the same pissed off expression as always laced into his features.

“Leave us alone, Malfoy,” Harry glared at him, the tension between the two of them rising significantly in a short amount of time. He let go of your sleeve, standing up straighter and squaring his shoulders.

“It was unfortunate, you know, that the dragon didn’t kill you,” Malfoy said lowly, clearly loving the fact that his friends laughed at his comment. You, on the other hand, weren’t sure what they had found funny. Was it a joke? What had he said that was so funny?

Harry rolled his eyes, motioning his head for you to follow him, and so you did so without question.

“You know, I was mistaken,” Malfoy’s voice echoed down the corridor, making both of you turn around once more. You were feeling both bored and angry — it was quite a strange mix. You were used to Malfoy’s taunts, having sat by while all of your friends — you included — fell victim, but a part of you particularly hated the way he spoke to Harry.

“Oh, yeah? About what? Please, for Merlin’s sake, enlighten us,” you snapped back, “We’re just dying to know.”

Malfoy’s eyes scanned your face before approaching the the both of you one more. Harry’s shoulder was pressed up against yours and you could feel his ragged his breathing had become. Malfoy always found a way under his skin and it bothered you a great deal.

“About Potter, I actually hope you do make it to the end, it’ll make your death that much more bittersweet,” Malfoy sneered, “For those who care, that is.”

“Gee, I always believed we Gryffindors were petty but that’s a whole new low,” you smirked, taking a step forward after pushing Harry back, telling him to let you handle the situations, “You know, I’ve come to a conclusion about you, Malfoy. The reason you’ve never said anything logical in your life is because you waste your breath insulting the people that you think care about your opinion.”

“Excuse me?” you had never seen Malfoy looked more appalled than in that moment. It was rather amusing.

“Was my English not easy enough for you to understand? Point proven,” you sighed dramatically, turning away from him and nudging Harry in the shoulder, “Oh, one more thing, Malfoy.”

You turned back to face him, “suck my dick.”

And with that, you turned back and walked away with Harry by your side, neither of you wanting to turn and gauge what Malfoy’s reaction would be.

Once you two were around the corner, Harry turned to you with wide eyes and his mouth broken into a wide smile. If this was the reaction you’d get for shutting down Malfoy, you’d gladly do it any day.

“That was epic, Y/N!” his hands grabbed your shoulders, shaking you slightly, “I’ve never actually had anyone stand up for me like that before, what made you do it?”

“Oh — I dunno,” you shrugged, feeling quite proud of yourself, “I stick up for my friends, I guess.” Friends. How you wished Harry could be more than just your friend.

“You’re incredible,” he grinned, taking his hands off of your shoulders and shaking his head in disbelief, “You know, I think I found the perfect friend in you. I love Ron and all but that was something else...”

As he trailed off, you noticed the way his eyes darted between your lips and your eyes. Although that should make you weak in the knees, a part of you instinctively pulled away, flushing brightly at the encounter. You told yourself it was probably just the heat of the moment, the thrill of the comeback.

“Eh, no biggie,” you shrugged, “Asshole needs to be put in his place sometimes.”

You nodded awkwardly and began to continue in the path you were headed, until you noticed Harry was no longer by your side, still standing rooted where you two were not five seconds ago.

“Harry, you—,”

“I’m good, yeah,” he cut you off quietly, a light smile on his lips, “You’re the best.”

“I’ve been told,” you grinned, trying not to let his words get to you. He chuckled, walking forwards and standing next to you, eyes still staring into yours with intensity you didn’t think you could bear.

Awkwardly looking away, your cheeks heating up, you motioned your head down the hall, “We should get going before Hermione and Ron come after me like an angry mob.”

Harry nodded, eyes wide and turning away from you, shaking his head like he was clearing his thoughts, “Good point.”

And so the two of you walked off towards the common room, the silence tense and unsure, but not comfortable. Did Harry really mean what he said? Calling you ‘the best’ and all? It was flattering, especially coming from him, but did he mean it the way that you wanted to take it?

Fighting a mental battle, you stayed quiet until you reached the common room. You flopped down on the couch, nearly being hit by a firework that Fred and George were trying out in the corner of the room.

“How long do you think it’ll be before—,”

The portrait door swung open and a very flustered Ron and Hermione stumbled in, both looking tremendously irritated and uncomfortable.

Hermione stormed up to you, dragging you up by your collar, “You and I need to talk. Right now.”

Shocked by her outburst, you nodded, “If you wanted to get me alone you could have just asked—,” noticing her expression, she wasn’t in the joking mood, “Yikes, sorry, okay, let’s go upstairs.”

She continued to drag you up, the anger fueling her sudden burst of strength. You did feel kind of bad about leaving her and Ron, but it wasn’t like you openly said anything about her feelings towards him.

Upon reaching your dorm room and noticing it was empty, she shut the door and pointed a finger at you accusingly, “You. Why would you do that? That was humiliating!”

“Oh come on,” you sat on the edge of you bed and brought your legs up, sitting criss-crossed, “It couldn’t have been that bad. Did he ask you to the ball?”

“No!” she seethed, sitting down on hers as well, “All he said was that he indeed noticed I am a girl.”

Your eyebrows shot up, “Four years in and he finally notices? I knew he wasn’t the brightest lightbulb in the chandelier, but wow.”

As if she agreed with your comment, the anger seemed to disappear from her face. She rushed off her bed and sat next to you, shoving you over slightly so she had space on the tiny bed.

“I think he’s already got his eye on someone. It’s not fun.”

“Tell me about it,” you mumbled before you could stop yourself. Hermione’s eyes shot up, giving you a quizzing look as you clamped your hand over your mouth.

“Oh! You like someone!” she grinned, lifting her hand to poke you in the shoulder, “You know about my feelings, I need to know about yours.”

“I don’t have feelings,” you defended, fighting back a blush and taking your hand away from your mouth, “Don’t turn this on me.”

“It’s Harry, isn’t it?” she smirked. You scolded yourself for having been obvious. Of course, the ever-so intuitive Hermione would catch onto who your crush was. It was an embarrassing attempt to hide it on your part.

“Listen, Hermione,” you pointed a finger at her, “Tell anyone and during the next dinner, they’ll be serving your head on a silver platter.”

She giggled, ignoring your threat and crossing her fingers over your heart, “I won’t tell a soul.”

Squinting at her, you figured you’d be able to trust her. She had been your friend for years and kept all your previous secrets. She might be able to keep this one as well.

“Fine,” you gave in, throwing your head back in frustration, “You’re right. It’s Harry.”

She gave you a toothy grin, wiggling her eyebrows, “Now, I have to set you two up.”

“Don’t you fucking dare,” you shot back, pointing your finger and shaking your head, “You’re gonna take his deep-rooted love for Cho away and, well, that’s just plain rude.”

“Oh, shut up, he’s barely ever spoken to her. It’s just an appearance thing,” she waved her hand, brushing off your comment, “Besides, I heard Lavender Brown say that Cho and Cedric Diggory are hanging out.”

Not overly shocked by the information, you leaned back onto your pillows, “Good for her. Diggory is a right catch if I say so myself.”

Hermione smacked your knee, “Sit up! Listen to me, you don’t need to pout, let’s just go down there and I’ll work my magic.”

You glared at her, not utterly convinced she was able to do much, but you followed her back downstairs nonetheless, figuring it was worth a shot. The worst that could happen was that Harry would not feel the same, distance himself from you, then you’d lose Ron and Hermione as well because they were his friends first and then you’d be left alone to suffer in self despair while they galavanted in friendship—

“Hey, Harry!” Hermione greeted a little too cheerfully once you two entered the seating area of the common room. Already embarrassed by her attempt, you didn’t notice the way Ron and Harry immediately stopped talking upon your entrance, sharing a look that could only mean ‘don’t say anything.’

“Er — hi, Hermione,” Harry smiled awkwardly.

You sat down on the couch next to Ron, who was eyeing Hermione with awe. He was so smitten, it was a miracle no one else noticed the way he looked at her.

“Ron, you’re pathetic,” you leaned over and whispered in his ear, “Ask her. Don’t make me threaten you into doing it.”

Ron shot you a look, “Not bloody likely.”

You turned away, shrugging, and stared into the fireplace. Harry was seated on your other side, not saying much, but the way he kept looking over at you made you think that he did actually have something he wanted to say.

“Well, from what I’ve heard, Cho is going to go to the ball with Cedric,” Hermione said, pretending it was no biggie but checking over repeatedly to see Harry’s reaction.

Upon noticed he didn’t say anything, she leaned closer to him, “Did you hear me Harry? Cho’s taken.”

Harry looked at her, eyes darting back and forth between you, Ron and her, “Yeah, I heard you.”

“Guess that means you can ask someone else,” Hermione grinned, leaning back.

You scolded yourself for telling her. She was being ridiculously obvious and it pained you to see her efforts. Did she think this was going to anywhere?

“Er — I guess,” Harry shrugged, glancing over at you for a millisecond before turning back towards the fire, “I guess I’ll wait and see how things go.”

Your heart did a slight flip. He didn’t mention having any other girl in mind, maybe that meant he didn’t. Which still gave you a shot, technically. Even if he didn’t see you that way just yet, maybe you’d have to turn on the charm. Flirt, make him see that you were actually interested.

Granted, flirting was never really your area of expertise. You weren’t good at it, nor did you really have any experience. But maybe, just maybe, with Hermione’s strange help, you’d be able to find a way to get him to notice you.

Plan Flirt with Harry was now in action.

— —

Over the next two weeks, things had been going relatively well. Hermione had toned down her strategy and was making you seem like much more of a natural.

You and Harry had even shared a few lingering touches, whether they be your hands touching at the table during dinner, or his elbow touching yours when you were sat in the common room. Nothing overly intimate, but enough to send sparks flying through your body at the feeling.

You had also noticed the way Ron and Harry seemed to drop whatever conversation they were having when you entered the room. Sure, they could have been discussing Hermione and Ron’s feeble attempts at his own flirting, but the way Harry would glance at you during meals and classes sent your head spiralling with the idea that maybe, just maybe, they were talking about you.

You didn’t want to get your hopes up, but it was hard not to when the ball was getting closer by the day and neither you, nor Harry, had a date and he still hadn’t shown interest in anyone else.

“He asked me!” Hermione stumbled into the dorm room in excitement, causing you to jump out of your skin and nearly drop the book you were reading.

“Ron?” you grinned, sitting up, “Oh, that’s great, Hermione! I knew—,”

“Not Ron,” she rolled her eyes, flopping down on your bed, on top of your legs, “Viktor Krum.”

“Ohhhh,” your eyes widened, “You go, girl. Have you seen his jawline? I’d let him cut me with it, hot ass—”

Hermione laughed, pretending to shoot you a glare, “That’s my date you’re talking about.”

“Right, sorry,” you joined in on her laughter, closing your book and placing it on your night table, “But I really am happy for you.”

“Thanks,” her cheeks went pink as she turned to face you, “Can we go sit in the common room? It’s just Ron and Harry.”

“Yeah, sure,” you sighed, flicking the warm blanket off of you and following her downstairs. She was radiating joy, and even though it wasn’t Ron that had ended up asking her, you could tell she was really looking forward to this date.

“Just ask her,” you heard Ron snap quietly once you two started making your way down the stairs, “I see the way she looks at you.”

“I can’t!” Harry snapped back, trying to keep his voice down, “She can do better anyways.”

“Yeah, bloody right,” Ron scoffed, “You fought a dragon.”

“It’s not the same, Ron, I— shush, I hear footsteps.”

The two of you walked into the room, noticing once again how Harry and Ron dropped their conversation upon landing sight on you two. So, Harry already had plans on asking someone to go to the ball. It hurt, you weren’t going to deny it. Of course he had someone else. He was Harry Potter, for goodness sake. Charming, funny, loyal, and brave. All the qualities to make a girl swoon.

“What are you two ladies gossiping about?” you pretended to be fine as you sat down on the opposite couch, placing your hands in your lap and trying to steady your now irregular heartbeat. Jealousy was slowly coursing through your veins and you hated it.

“Nothing,” Harry shook his head, a fake look of innocence on his face. Ron nodded along, neither of them being very convincing.

“Oh, hey Y/N,” Ron smirked, wiggling his eyebrows and nudging Harry in the ribs. Harry, glaring at his friend, gave him a nudge right back. You chose to ignore the comment, focusing more on the look Hermione was giving you.

“Hi, Ron,” you replied back, not sure why he was grinning while glancing back and forth between you and Harry. He was always very strange.

Hermione sat down on the armrest of your chair, crossing her arms and nudging you in the side, telling you to start doing something.

“Harry, are you trying to figure out the second task?” you blurted out, not sure what you could have said that wouldn’t make the situation weird.

“Of course,” Harry’s cheeks flushed slightly, his eyes avoiding yours, “I think I’ve almost got it.”

You grinned, “Oh, that’s great. I knew you’d be able to figure it out.”

Hermione seemed more pleased by your comment, leaning back and letting the situation unfold.

“Harry’s real smart, you know,” Ron nudged Harry in the side again, a teasing expression on his face, “One of the smartest.”

“Thanks,” Harry glared at Ron, speaking with gritted teeth before turning back to you, his face softening, “I had help, though.”

“Modesty isn’t gonna make you win, y’know,” you smirked, admiring his honesty, “Take credit. Be proud of yourself.”

Harry’s cheeks were pink and he brushed the hair out of his forehead, “Thanks, Y/N.”

You could tell he was flustered, but you figured it was probably because of the compliments. Harry never really knew how to reply to them — you had noticed that over the years. For someone who was the bravest person you had ever met, he sure didn’t know how to deal with people.

“Oh, Ron, Ginny wanted to talk to us,” Hermione sat up quickly, clapping her hands together. Ron raised an eyebrow, questioning her silently, before standing up.

“She did?” he asked, rubbing the back of his neck with his hand.

“Yes! She did,” Hermione sent a discreet wink in your direction before turning to Harry, “We’ll be back shortly!”

“Well, Y/N, Harry, be safe you two,” Ron picked up on what Hermione was doing, smirking as he made his way to exit the room, “Have fun!”

Harry glanced at Ron, his eyes wide. The two boys shared a look before Hermione dragged the ginger boy out the portrait hole behind her.

“Head on a silver platter, Hermione!” you called after her, your heart beating violently, “Head on a silver platter!”

The portrait swung shut and the room went dead silent. The only thing you could hear was the thump of your heart and the sudden nervousness that spread throughout your body at being alone with Harry.

You wanted to seize the chance and make a move, but you had just heard him talk about asking a girl to the ball, so was it a good idea? Probably not.

But as you looked at him, watching the way the flames flickered across his face and the way his messy hair stuck out in different directions, it took everything you had in you to not rush over there and tell him everything.

“Can I tell you something? Don’t tell Ron and Hermione,” he piped up quietly, turning to face you, the blue of his eyes making you weak. You were thankful he spoke first, it prevented you from spilling your guts and making a fool out of yourself.

“Sure,” you replied, getting up and walking towards the couch he was sitting on, making yourself comfortable on the opposite end.

He sighed deeply, “I haven’t figured out the egg.”

“You haven’t?” you spoke, shock evident on your face. You felt bad for acting so surprised, but you couldn’t help it. He had seemed so confident when he told you he had.

He shook his head silently, shrugging, “I don’t know what to do with it.”

You blinked rapidly, turning over to face the golden egg that was sitting on the table, “Why didn’t you want to tell the others? Hermione could probably figure it out.”

He turned to you, face pale, “No, don’t tell them. I just thought I’d tell you, I don’t know, I trust you.”

You fought back a grin, hiding your smile behind your hair so you didn’t look like an idiot. He probably didn’t mean it as a compliment but you took it as such.

“Well, I’ll help you, then,” you nodded, holding out your pinky, “I know we’re not children, but I pinky promise.”

He grinned, linking your pinky with his. For someone who had been through so much, he really did have soft skin. It was annoying. Pleasant, but annoying.

“I’m glad I have you around, Y/N.”

His gaze was so intense and wholesome that you struggled to hold back.

“The sappiness is gross, but I’m glad to be around,” you beamed, pulling your pinky away and turning back to your corner of the couch, leaning your head back and enjoying the softness of the cushion, your mind going back to the conversation you had heard between him and Ron. Who was he planning on asking?

Now was your chance — now or never.

“So — uh — who are you asking to the ball?” you asked, so silently Harry had to lean closer to you to hear it.

He stammered, “Oh — er — I dunno, yet. There’s a girl I have in mind but I don’t think she sees me that way.”

Your heart sank, but you turned to face him with a neutral expression, “I call bullshit. Who wouldn’t want to go with you?”

He seemed to think over your words for a second, a glimpse of fondness on his features, but he turned away and shook his head, “She’s different.”

“How so?” you regretted it as soon as you asked, knowing Harry was about to gush about some girl when you wished more than anything it was you he’d be gushing about.

“She’s bold,” he said, a hint of a smile on his lips, “Not afraid to stick up for herself or the people she cares about. She’s smart, too, always has an answer for everything. A good friend — the best, really. And I know she’d be better off with someone who wasn’t me.”

You nodded, processing his words and trying to think of the girl he could be talking about. It completely crushed you, hearing him speak so highly of someone, but you knew that if anything, he’d be the one better off without you.

“Why’d you think that?” you began twiddling with your thumbs, avoiding his eyes, “Did she tell you or is it an assumption?”

“She didn’t tell me,” he quickly replied, shaking his head, “But she’s got such an incredible spirit, I’m worried I’d ruin it. You know, it’s funny. I always looked at her like she was just a friend, just someone that I’d got lucky to have around, but then one day, she did something, and it kind of clicked. After that, I couldn’t look at her the same. She was so much more beautiful, so much more radiant and lovely and I knew from then on that she was just... different to me. And I tried to tell myself she was never going to see me that way but the more I was around her, the harder it was.”

You bit your cheek, trying your best to hold back your oncoming emotions.

“Well, she’s lucky,” your voice was weak, shaky even, as you turned to face him.

His smile was clear as day and the love struck expression was still on his face as he turned to look at you, causing you to speak up one more, “What did she do that made you change your mind about her?”

The smile vanished from his face and the awkward expression returned. He raised his hand, rubbing the back of his neck and then through his hair, as if he wasn’t sure what to say next.

He dropped his hand and faced you, all traces of amusement gone from his face, “She stuck up for me.”

Your breath caught in your throat, his words echoing in your mind. You nearly missed his hand reaching across the couch and grabbing yours, linking his fingers and running his thumb across your skin.

Had he been talking about you? It would make sense, you had stuck up for him against Malfoy a few weeks back, but had it really impacted him to the point where he was falling for you?

You didn’t want to complain, but you couldn’t believe it. You thought back to what he said, about seeing you as a friend and then as something more, that you were different and beautiful, even. It was nearly impossible to believe him just off of his words, you had embarrassingly dreamt of him admitting his feelings and it felt too good to be true, but his gentle tough and soft gaze grounded you to reality. He was telling you the truth.

“I’m talking about you, if you hadn’t caught on,” he tried to smile but it came off as more of a grimace, his nerves evident in his shaking hand and pale complexion.

You still couldn’t forumulate the words to say. For years you had always been the one to make a comeback, leaving others speechless — but now, you were the one speechless.

“Me?” you stared at him with wide eyes, heart violently thumping against your rib cage, trying to burst out and reach his, “Me?”

He retracted his hand rather quickly, “Unless — you know, unless you don’t feel the same.”

“No, wait,” you reached across and grabbed his hand, finally finding the courage to flash him a smile, “I do actually. I do feel the same.”

Relief flooded over him, his face regaining colour and his shoulders slouching back, “Oh, thank Merlin.”

The joy that had spread through you was indescribable. You didn’t think there could be a better feeling. Your heart seemed to swell and the tingling sensation in your fingers was everlasting. It was like a high you didn’t want to come down from. God bless Hermione and her intuition of leaving you two alone.

Plan Flirt with Harry had been a success.

— —

Hermione and Ron had quickly been informed of the confession between you two, both of them saying they had called it years back. Which didn’t make sense considering you didn’t have feelings for each other years back, but you let them enjoy their moment.

You had helped Harry try and figure out his second task, as promised, spending many a nights up late in the common room and telling each other things you wouldn’t tell someone if you were ‘just friends.’ You were having the time of your life, really. He had grown comfortable being intimate — holding your hand on the way to class or pecking your cheek in the Great Hall. (Hermione and Ron teased you two to no ends about it.)

Eventually, Harry had asked you to be his date to the Yule Ball — which you responded with ‘well, duh.’ So, as the night of the dance came around — you were actually looking forward to it now — you had gotten ready with Hermione and strolled down to the Great Hall, ready to finally dance the night away with the boy you had fallen for.

Reaching the stairs, you noticed him and Ron standing at the bottom, both looking out of place. Ron — donning his ugly dress robes — had worked up the courage to ask one of the Patil twins. Which one, you didn’t remember. He had asked her out of desperation, it was rather sad.

“It’s embarrassing to be seen next to you, Ronald,” you tapped him on the shoulder once you arrived at the bottom. He spun around, his face laced with humiliation.

“They’re ancient,” he groaned, lifting his arms to show you the frills.

“Yeah, I’m gonna pretend I don’t know you,” you winked and ruffled his hair, turning to face Harry.

His eyes scanned you up and down in your dress, but you were too focused on how good he looked to feel at all self conscious. You had only ever really seen him in sweaters and his Gryffindor robes. This was a whole new level of glo-up.

“You look gorgeous,” he grinned, linking his hand with yours and pulling you closer to him, “I’m the luckiest guy here.”

You tossed your hair over your shoulder, grinning, “Well, what can I say? I’m a catch.”

“That you are,” he nodded, sticking out his arm for you to take, “We have first dance since I’m Champion.”

You nodded, linking your arm in his and standing by his side. You weren’t exactly a good dancer, but if you had Harry by your side you’d be too focused on him as opposed to the crowd around you.

“Shall we go in then, Champion?” you turned to face him, chin held high.

“We shall,” he replied in the same noble manner, chin up, and began leading you into the ball.

He was well worth the wait.

#harry potter imagine #harry potter imagines #harry potter one shot #harry potter one shots #harry potter fanfic #harry potter fanfics #harry potter x reader #harry potter reader insert

[raw-lesbian-energy]

Carnival of Spores

[Image description: Anonymous said

Fic idea: Sent by Andrias to Earth, Apothecary Gary causes a small bit growing spore zombie outbreak while Anne, the Plantars, and Caroline rush to stop it as each of them gets infected one by one.]

FIRST PROMPT WITH CAROLINE IN IT OKAY BIG MOMENT- But thank you so much for the prompt anon, this was a really clever idea!! I did put a little spin on it, but I hope you still enjoy it nonetheless!!

——

Summary: A strange carnival rolls into town and the gang goes to have a day off, only for them to discover the true nature of the place.

Fandom: Amphibia (The Wild Soul AU)

Pairing: None

Features: Self-Insert

Word Count: 1,500

Warnings: None

—————————————————————

“Carnival! Carnival! Carnival!”

Anne, Polly, and Sprig chanted excitedly in the back seat as Caroline drove, pumping their fists in the air. Caroline chuckled at their enthusiasm, while Hop Pop seemed a little uneasy.

“I don’t know, Caroline.” He said. “I got a bad feeling about this.”

“Hop Pop, you have a bad feeling about everything.” Caroline replied, glancing at him briefly. “It’s just a carnival; it’ll be fine.” Hop Pop didn’t seem convinced, his brows furrowed in worry as he stared out the window. Caroline picked up on it quick, letting out a small sigh.

“Alright, tell you what;” she said, “first sign of real danger and we’re out of there. Okay?” Hop Pop turned his gaze to her, his expression softening as he nodded. Shortly after, the young woman turned off the street and into the carnival parking lot, finding it was already pretty full.

“Dang, word spreads fast, huh?” Anne commented, looking around at the mass of cars. Murmurs of agreement came from Polly and Sprig, while Hop Pop still looked uneasy.

“I don’t know; maybe we should-” he tried, only for Caroline to put one hand over his mouth.

“Up up up, we’re not backing out.” She told him. After a few minutes of searching, they managed to find a spot and parked, climbing out and making their way to the gate.

“Whoa, this place is huge!” Sprig said in awe, eyes shining as he stared at the carnival before him. It was brightly lit with all different colours, and various exciting rides could be seen around the area.

“Dude, check out that roller coaster!” Anne called, pointing at a tall roller coaster at the other end of the park. This caught Caroline’s attention too, an excited smile forming on her face. Hop Pop, on the other hand, was looking around for signs of anyone else, but found the area they stood in to be empty.

“Place looks a little…deserted, don’t you think?” He commented. “Seems a little suspicious.” Caroline shot an annoyed glare his way, but before she could speak, someone else did.

“Welcome, welcome!” A voice suddenly spoke behind them, startling the group. They all spun around to see a small man standing behind them, being only slightly taller than Hop Pop. However, he was wearing a top hat that made him look twice his height, which was a deep purple colour and matched a nice suit he had on.

“The name’s Larry!” He introduced himself. “I’m the owner of this fine little carnival. It’s a pleasure to have you all here!”

“Oh, thank you!” Caroline spoke up first, relaxing and stepping up to meet him. He had a somewhat unsettling grin as he looked up at the young woman, his head tilting just slightly. Hop Pop felt something gnawing at his mind; a feeling that he knew this man from somewhere.

“Well, aren’t you a lovely young lady!” Larry said, adjusting his hat just slightly. Caroline raised her eyebrows, not expecting such a statement out of nowhere.

“Oh, uh-” she started, only for Hop Pop to step in between the two.

“Don’t even try to make advances on my second adopted granddaughter.” He said sternly. “She’s much too young for you!” The sudden outburst caused Larry’s smile to falter, as well as Caroline to give him a rather confused look.

“Hop Pop, I’m twenty, I can handle myself.” She told him. Hop Pop didn’t budge.

“Nope, no way.” He replied. “We’re leaving right now. Come on, everyone back to the car.” A chorus of protests rang out from Sprig, Polly, and Anne, which led to Caroline finally putting her foot down.

“Okay, that’s it!” She snapped, stepping in front of the old frog. “Hop Pop, you have done nothing but be paranoid and pessimistic, and we haven’t even been here for five whole minutes! You keep acting like every single thing here is out to get us, and even though I’ve lived here for twenty years, you treat me like I’m some helpless little-OW!” Her rant was cut off as she felt a sharp pain in the back of her neck, turning to see just what had caused it. There, sitting in Larry’s hand, was a small blue beetle with a glowing purple mushroom growing out of its’ head.

“What the- the hell is that?!” Caroline snapped. Hop Pop’s eyes went wide.

“That’s the mind-controlling mushroom from back in Wartwood!” He yelled, pointing at the bug. Now it was Caroline’s turn to panic.

“Mind WHAT?!” She hollered, managing the sentence just before she felt her mind go blank. Her body stumbled for a moment, lurching forward before she regained her footing and straightened up. Her eyes now glowed with an eerie purple light, and the others could see tiny purple mushrooms starting to grow from her head.

“CAROLINE!” The four cried in unison. Larry let out an evil chuckle, drawing their attention to him as he took his hat off to reveal a massive purple mushroom underneath.

“We meet again, old frog!” He announced dramatically. “You thought you could get rid of me, but I’ll always find a way to survive!”

“Oh, that is nasty!” Polly exclaimed, cringing at the sight of the giant mushroom.

“Let Caroline go, you creep!” Anne snapped. Larry turned her gaze on them, grinning madly as his eyes started to glow in the same eerie purple that Caroline’s were.

“On the contrary,” he said, stepping forward, “I think I’ll be keeping her. Just like the rest of the humans I’ve tricked! Assemble, my minions!” At his call, the sound of hundreds of footsteps made their way towards them, revealing an army of mind-controlled humans. All of them with the same purple eyes and small mushrooms growing out of their heads.

“I told you kids we shouldn’t have come here!” Hop Pop shouted.

“Not the time!” All three kids yelled back, shooting him the same annoyed glare. Larry had a malicious grin that was ear-to-ear, and setting the bug on his shoulder, he pointed at Anne and the Plantars.

“Get them!” He commanded. Caroline, being the closest to the group, rushed in and tackled Sprig to the ground. The small frog yelped in alarm as the taller woman pinned him, growling in an almost animalistic manner as a strange purple liquid dripped from her mouth.

“Sprig!” Anne leapt in to save her little brother, charging into Caroline and sending the both of them stumbling. Sprig remained lying on his back for a moment, but when he sat up, his eyes were purple.

“Sprig, no!” Hop Pop cried, but it was no use. The spores had seeped into his brain, rendering him stuck under the mushroom’s mind control.

“Hop Pop, we gotta run!” Polly shouted. Hop Pop looked around at the crowd closing in, seeing Anne still fighting with a mind-controlled Caroline.

“Anne! We need to go!” He hollered. Anne looked up as Hop Pop called her name, though this proved to be her fatal mistake as Caroline seized the opportunity and sunk her teeth into Anne’s arm.

“OW!” Anne screeched at the bite, tearing her arm away and seeing it covered in the same purple gunk. Before she could even try to wipe it away, it seeped into her skin, leaving only the mark of Caroline’s teeth there.

“Oh, this is not gonna end well.” She muttered, her stare going blank before her eyes turned purple.

“NO!” Hop Pop cried out as Anne became a mushroom-zombie, stepping back when she and Caroline both got to their feet and started walking towards him.

“Hop Pop, this would probably be the time to run!” Polly snapped him back to reality, tapping on his forehead. The old frog was quick to turn and run, only to find the exit was blocked by a wall of mind-controlled humans.

“It’s a dead end!” He exclaimed. Larry let out an evil laugh, approaching from behind and cornering the last two Plantars.

“Nowhere to run, Hopediah!” He mocked. “And now, I shall take over this city and rule the human world!” His mad cackle rang throughout the carnival as the mushroom-zombies closed in, leaving Polly and Hop Pop with nowhere to run.

“This is it.” Hop Pop muttered gravely. “This is the end.” The world around him soon became nothing but a glowing purple haze, the groans and mad laughter of Larry blending together until all fell silent.

——

GASP!

Hop Pop snapped upright in bed, a cold sweat on his forehead as he gasped for air. He looked around in a panic, taking a moment to get his bearings before he realized he was in the spare bedroom at Caroline’s house.

“It was just a dream.” He panted, a wave of relief washing over him. “Oh, it was all just a horrible dream.”

“Hey, Hop Pop!” Caroline’s voice suddenly called from downstairs. “We got tickets to an exclusive carnival! Do you want to come?”

Hop Pop froze, his left eye twitching before he screamed.

“NOOOOOOOOOOOO!”

#amphibia #amphibia caroline #anne boonchuy #amphibia self-insert #amphibia oc #sprig plantar #amphibia anne #amphibia sprig #amphibia hop pop #hop pop plantar #polly plantar #amphibia polly #prompted work #shy anon writes

[alwaysfeelingsaintlike]

Driving Me Mad [G.W] - Part 5

Series Description: You and George come up with a plan to pretend to date each other. But what happens when you actually start to catch feelings...

Pairing: George Weasley x Gryffindor fem!reader 

Word Count: 2.2k

Part 1

Part 2

Part 3

Part 4

Taglist: @obsssedwithjustaboutanything, @fadesbrina, @sweetlyblushedbouquet

Description: You and George head to the party and things between you heat up quicker than expected

                                                            X

You arrived back at the castle just as the party was about to begin. You made your way to the Room of Requirement where people were excitedly awaiting your arrival, mainly for the goods you were bringing. As you walked into the room, you were greeted by the sound of applause and cheering. George made his rounds and you followed him, as he handed out the occasional butterbeer before placing the crate on a nearby ledge. A mob began surrounding you both and George grabbed two brews and pulled you away from the crate before the crowd could attack. 

You spotted Cho and Marietta across the way and walked over to them, mentally prepared to be bombarded with questions.

“Well, well, well. Look who’s decided to grace us with her presence,” Marietta spoke. 

“It’s about time! We’ve been dying to know about your new beau,” Cho added.

“Not much to tell. We’re just friends, at least for now.”

“No need to be coy, it’s just us. You can give us the details,” Cho persuaded. 

“Honestly Y/N, people are already speculating.”

“Let them speculate, it’s none of their business anyway,” you smirked, knowing the plan was going perfectly.

“Just promise you’ll tell us when things become official. I’d hate to hear about it from someone else,” Cho added. 

“Of course I will tell the both of you if something happens. For now though, I’m just happy to have an old friend back.”  

As the conversation continued, you stepped away momentarily to grab another drink. You approached the crate and grabbed a brew  when another hand reached for the same bottle. 

“Oh, sorry!” you said, pulling your hand back. You turned to see who you were apologizing to, when you spotted a familiar face. “Roger…”

“Hi Y/N. How’ve you been?” he asked. 

“I, uh, I’m-“ before you could fully answer, Ms. Fleur Delacour was by Roger’s side, practically hanging off his shoulder. She spoke something French to him and it was only then that she noticed you standing there. She gave you a confused look and Roger interjected.

“Fleur, this is my friend Y/N,” he introduced. You gave her an awkward smile and a small wave as she responded with, “Bonjour.” Seconds later she was whispering with Roger again and you ran through options of how to get out of this situation.

“Y/N, there you are!” you heard George say a few paces behind you. You turned to locate him and were blindsided when you found he was suddenly inches away from you. He gently wrapped an arm around your waist to draw you close to him and he cupped your face with his free hand as he lifted your jaw up to meet his face. He kissed you with such passion and you tried to hide the surprise that had come over you. George slowly released your lips and moved his arm to rest around your shoulder. 

“Oh, sorry mate. Didn’t see you there,” George commented with a smirk. You looked toward Roger and Fleur to see them both surprised as well. Roger made some small comment to excuse them from the scene and you turned to George, unsure of what to say.

“I’m sorry if I took you by surprise. I just saw you were ambushed and I did the first thing I could think of to help.”

“Thank you,” you whispered.

“You…you’re not mad?”

“Mad? No, of course not. I mean, you took me by surprise but I’m not upset about it.”

“Good thing, because I think just about everyone knows about us now so we’re gonna have to keep this up.” You turned to face your peers and found everyone gossiping in their respective cliques, trying to hide their looks in your direction. 

“Well George, I’d say we are officially a couple.” You squeezed his hand and returned to your group of friends. You needed a moment to catch your breath. The kiss was so unexpected and you didn’t want to admit it, but it swept you off your feet. Were you in too deep with this plan of yours? At this point, did you even want Roger back? Your mind was spinning and you didn’t really want to field all the questions from Cho and Marietta. You impulsively made the decision to just leave and return to the common room, where the only people there would be some young Gryffindors who wouldn’t bother you. You grabbed a book from your bedroom and curled up by the fire, trying to distract yourself from the current situation at hand. 

 “Had enough of the party?” A voice called to you. You looked up, half expecting to see George but it was his twin brother standing in the doorway. 

“Uh, yeah. I don’t know I just had a lot on my mind and I wanted to sit and think away from everyone.”

“Mmm,” he responded, merely nodding his head. “I thought you’d be with George.”

“I could say the same for you. But evidently he’s escaped both of us.” You thought that would be the end of your conversation since Fred had been so short with you lately, but he surprised you by sitting next to you on the couch.

“What are you doing, Y/N?” he asked you..

“What do you mean?”

“You know what I mean. What’s your angle here?”

“My angle? Look Fred, I don’t know why you’ve been so cold to me recently. We’ve known each other forever and I don’t get this.”

“We’ve been friends for ages, but the minute you hurt George we won’t be. He’s not like Roger, he won’t move on so easily. He’s better than a rebound.”

“I know that. He’s probably my oldest friend and I’m not willing to lose him over something stupid.”

“You don’t get it, do you? You’re taking advantage of him just because he’s giving you attention. He deserves better than that.” And with that, he stood up and walked away. You were a little taken aback. Fred had been icy toward you, but you never imagined he would confront you with such spite. You knew he was just being protective but it still hurt. You thought you were friends and the fact that he didn’t trust you with George hurt a little. It was hard knowing you couldn’t please Fred, and you doubted George would ever date someone who Fred didn’t approve of. At that moment, you considered letting Fred in on the plan, but you weren’t sure that would do any good.

You felt utterly confused. Your heart was telling you one thing while your head was in complete disagreement.  

                                                             X

George saw you make a quick exit and he knew he had messed up. He acted on impulse instead of thinking through the situation and now things were different. You may have said things were okay, but actions speak louder than words. The worst part was he didn’t even know what he should say to you. Instinctually, he wanted to follow you back to the common room where you were likely lounging. But he hadn’t the faintest idea of what he could say to remedy the situation. The worst part was everyone was now gossiping about you and approaching him for details. After one too many brush offs, he decided to leave and go for a walk to the astronomy tower. This was his spot to think and get away from everything and he knew he would be alone there.

He was confused on multiple levels. After kissing you, he was rendered speechless. The spark was everything he imagined it would be, but he wasn’t sure that feeling went both ways. You seemed so calm after everything, almost like it didn’t phase you at all. He felt stupid for thinking you might actually have feelings for him. 

But what to do next? Should he cut things off now before things changed too much? At this point, your friendship would be changing in one way or another. He could use the easy out clause to end things before the effects set in. The only downside was it seemed a little too late to pull this move. You had kissed and everyone had seen it. They assumed you were together now and it would be tough to explain a sudden separation. 

He went back and forth with both ideas and eventually decided he wouldn’t make any decisions before talking with you. You were definitely thinking a lot of things too and he didn’t want to assume he saw your side of things. 

George felt nervous walking back to the common room, as he figured you would be there, waiting for him so you could talk. You stepped into the common room and found his theory was partially correct. You were curled up by the fireplace with a book resting on your chest, sound asleep. He didn’t feel the need to wake you and normally he would’ve carried you to bed, but something about that didn’t feel right considering how you had left things. Instead, he gathered a blanket from his bed and laid it on top of you. Then he extinguished the fire that was burning and gave you a soft kiss on the forehead. 

                                                           X

 You woke up and found that you had fallen asleep on the sofa in the common room. You wish you could say this was a rare occurrence but it happened a little too often. You loved spending time in the common room by the fire where there were always a few people moving through. You spent a few nights up late reading on the couch or pulling all nighters doing homework and many times you fell asleep. The surprising thing was that there was a quilt draped over you on this particular morning. A quilt you recognized to be homemade and “Stitched with Love” by Molly Weasley. You had a similar one when you were a child and you knew this particular quilt belonged to George. you folded the quilt as you gathered the courage to approach George. You weren’t sure how he felt after last night but it seemed that you weren’t so emotional since you had the night to sleep on it. Before approaching his room, you thought about where you stood regarding this situation. You admitted to yourself that you wanted to pursue a relationship with George. But you weren’t going to. And you didn’t need Roger back, but this deal wasn’t solely for you. George was doing this for Angelina, and you didn’t want to break things off and ruin his chances with her. 

You carried the blanket in your arms and softly knocked on the door of his dormitory. The door opened shortly after and you found a bed-headed Weasley in the doorframe a moment later. A shirtless bed-headed Weasley at that. 

“Oh, I’m sorry. I didn’t mean to wake you. I just wanted to return this,” you said to George. A blush crept up your face as you tried to avoid looking at his bare torso.

“Oh no, it’s fine. Do you want to come in?”

“Eh, is Fred asleep?”

“No, he left for breakfast already. Please, come in. I actually wanted to talk with you after last night.”

“Oh. Okay,” you followed his recommendation and made your way into the room that was a slight mess. “Sorry to barge in on you like this,” you said as you took in his current appearance. Seeing George shirtless was making things more difficult. 

“No, you’re fine,” he said as he pulled on a sweater.  “So, about what happened last night…”

“George, you don’t have to explain it to me. I know it was just part of the role you were playing and that it didn’t mean anything. Don’t sweat it.” You were trying to convince yourself this was the truth, but you didn’t believe the words coming out of your mouth.

His face looked a little…disappointed. “Yeah, that’s exactly what I was gonna say. It meant nothing,” he trailed off.

“We do need to prepare for the aftermath of it all. Rumors and gossip as well as acting coupley. I hope you’re okay with public displays of affection because I really think we need to sell this”

“Just the usual then? Hand holding, arm around the shoulders, hugging…?”

“That and more. Just follow my lead and you’ll be fine. Now I’m going to get changed and we can head down to breakfast as a couple.”

“Yes ma’am,” he saluted. You scurried out of his room and walked back into your dormitory for a change in attire. The interaction went better than expected. You were worried things were going to be awkward but things seemed to return to normal pretty quickly. Now you just had to keep your feelings under control as you pretended to be a couple. No big deal.

You prepared for breakfast as quickly as you could and found George waiting for you in the common room. “Ready boyfriend?” you winked at him. He smirked back and put his arm around your shoulder. “About as ready as I’ll ever be.”

#george weasley x reader #george weasley x y/n #george weasley fanfic #weasley twins fanfic #hp fanfic

[sugacouture]

Facade of the Heart [Ch.1]

synopsis:  It’s 2145 A.D: technology is advancing at an unprecedented rate and lives are getting more convenient- but only for the rich. You’re fine with your job as a receptionist at the Jeon Hotel between 54th and Holly, but once the heir of said hotel business laid his eyes on you, he can’t seem to leave you alone. He’s an egotistical bastard who somehow convinces you to go on a date to a famous gala- promising a night that’s filled with glamor and romance. But as an unprecedented event halts you in your steps, putting both yours, his, and countless other lives in danger, will you be able to see through his wealthy exterior? Or will you succumb to the facade of his heart?

futuristic dystopia!au, enemies to lovers!au

genre: fluff, angst

pairing: jjk x reader

wc: 5.4k

rating: pg

warnings: mild swearing, sexual innuendos (aka sex jokes lol), sexual tension

a/n: i'm back, bietches. ty to @jtrbluv​​ for the banner and reading over my fic <3 ur amazing and i hereby dedicate this comeback chapter to u. also ty to @blsourlime​​ bc she left very passive-aggressive comments on my doc but it’s ok bc she was right. as usual. >:(  mmm that’s it. i hope y’all enjoy!

Chapter One

After sliding a pearl-studded barrette into your hair, you check yourself in the mirror one last time. Your reflection squints back at yourself, scrutinizing the slicked-back ponytail and fitted grey pantsuit. Nodding, you turn away from the mirror, put your heels on, sling your bag over your shoulder and walk out the door. You lock the apartment door behind you and tap the inside of your wristband, coaxing a hologram to appear in front of you.

Hmm.

The transportation expenses seem to have increased from yesterday by half a dollar. You frown, raising your other hand to tap on the cheapest option. GroupLyft will have to do, rather than your usual Hover.

Before you order the request though, you pause. Would it be better if you took the HyperLoop instead? After some mental calculations, you swipe down on the holographic screen and walk toward the elevator. While the HyperLoop would take more time, it would be cheaper, you decide, and you need to save money anyway.

After arriving at the lobby, you politely nod to the receptionist and make your way out of the door, into the bustling capital city. Tall, sleek buildings tower over you. Hover cars lightly hum as they zoom down the road, their metal exterior shining faintly in the morning sun. You spot one stopping near the entrance of a neighboring apartment building and watch as a man climbs into it, suitcase in hand. The hover buzzes away a few seconds later, presumably after the passenger has given his destination.

Walking through the city isn’t too bad, save the occasional cat caller. The clear dome surrounding the city always reflects the sun’s light so nicely in the mornings, bathing you in a warmth that you seldom get while you work. Granted, there are several windows near your desk, but the feeling of a light breeze on your skin always champs the indoors. You tuck a flyaway strand of hair back to its original place behind your ear and quicken the pace of your feet, wanting to get to the HyperLoop station as soon as possible.

You spot a station entrance a few minutes later, a few flights of stairs leading up to the rails. Heels clicking on the plexiglass steps, you eventually make it to the top where you swipe your wristband over a scanner and enter the platform.

There weren’t a lot of people waiting for the train which was a surprise, given that it was a Monday morning. You brush it off though, preferring to mind your own business.

“What other people do doesn’t concern you,” you reprimand yourself. Damn— it seems like more often than not, you’re getting into other people’s business.

A robotic voice echoes through the station, announcing the arrival of the HyperLoop and knocking you out of your thoughts. “The eastbound train is arriving at Newbury Station in t-minus 10 seconds. Please mind the gap.”

You mindlessly take a few steps back as you feel the ground start to rumble underneath you.

“Next stop on the purple line is Jeon Station. Final stop on the purple line is Carnegie Station. Please mind the gap.”

The train appears and quickly shudders to a stop as the boarding gate opens in front of you. After entering a compartment, you sit down on the white leather chair and strap yourself in after putting your purse in the box below your seat. The doors close and the robotic voice echoes through the train, just as you feel the HyperLoop start to pick up speed.

“Next stop on the purple line is Jeon Station. Final stop on the purple line is Carnegie Station. We will arrive at Jeon Station in t-minus two minutes and twenty-three seconds. Thank you for riding the HyperLoop today.”

Some ad for dog food plays after the announcement, but rather than paying attention to that, you double tap your earring studs, morphing them into bluetooth earbuds. Then, you repeat the motion on your wristband, ordering your holographic screen to appear again so you can choose a song to listen to. After selecting the music, you swipe down to make your screen disappear, satisfied with the beats that are currently filling your ears.

Toward the end of the song, a robotic voice booms through the compartment once again: “We will be arriving at Jeon Station in t-minus nineteen seconds. Please gather your belongings if you are getting off at this stop, and have a nice day. Thank you for riding the HyperLoop today.”

That was your cue to sling your purse over your shoulder and unstrap your seatbelt. After waiting for the train doors to open, you walk out of the compartment and the station, down the stairs and out to the city once again. After walking a block west, you arrive at your workplace: the Jeon Hotel between 54th and Holly.

Namjoon’s head snaps up as you enter the lobby, so quickly that it must hurt. “Good morning,” he winces, his hand moving to massage the back of his neck.

You chuckle at his display of clumsiness. “Good morning,” you answer, arriving behind the receptionist counter. “I didn’t know all guests got that quick of a welcome. It would seem that we have very good customer service, then.”

Your coworker blushes. “No, I was just excited to see you, that’s all.” He tries to make himself look busy by clicking the computer mouse a couple times, which makes it emit distressed pings in response. Namjoon grimaces and gives up, turning to face you. “So uh, how are you?”

“I’m good— I took the HyperLoop to work today,” you hum, shoving your purse in a cubby under the desk. You straighten your blouse and turn to the tall man. “What about you?”

“I walked to work today, as usual,” Namjoon starts, fiddling with his suit jacket, “but I was kind of running late because my alarm didn’t go off, so I had to run and I almost fell into a puddle—”

“Kim!”

A shrill voice pinches through said man’s story and your head turns, spotting your stick-thin manager briskly hobbling toward the two of you with a few files in hand. As usual, the extravagant necklaces she’s wearing look like they’re straining her neck, which causes you to stifle a giggle. Namjoon looks down at you and suppresses a smile, too.

“Kim. L/N. I need the two of you to clear the lobby at 11. We have important guests coming and I don’t want anyone coming down to make them feel crowded or uncomfortable.”  

You will your face to maintain no emotion, although it’s quite hard. How you got through your interview with her, you have no clue. “Of course, Ms. Tejan. How long should we clear it for?”

The older woman dramatically waves a hand in the air, only to say, “Oh, just for half an hour or so. The Jeons are just dropping by to check into their penthouse, so it shouldn't be too long.”

You look up from the computer in surprise, eyes as wide as saucers. Namjoon, too.

The Jeon family is a big deal. No, not your friend Somi’s family, but a different family entirely. They say the Jeon family runs one of the largest monopolies in the country, maybe the largest in the country’s history. Their booming hotel business sits at the top of the economic food chain, rendering all the smaller hotel businesses bankrupt. While there’s a lot of civilian discontent around it, there’s really nothing the people could do. By now, monopolies are a way of life: transportation, construction, utilities, etc.— each industry is run by a single family who has paid their way to the top. They stay by paying politicians to pardon their activities, or becoming a politician themselves.

But by the time the majority of the population knew what was happening, it was too late. Democracy is only maintained through the thin facade of a “federal government,” which only occasionally gives out pensions and hires the elderly to run social security.

Needless to say, the majority of money and power are in the hands of a few people. The wealth gap increases every day, along with brewing feelings of discontent. The lower class are getting tired of sleeping hungry, getting stepped on, and being treated as nobodies without purpose. The rich blatantly ignore this, though, which only fuels the rage of the poor. While there are no visible rebellions happening now, no one can promise that it won’t happen in the future.

...Which is why the Jeons are such a big deal. They have at least ten extended family members inside the federal government, along with a dozen insider politicians working for them. Their hotel business renders them as one of, if not the most,powerful family in the entire country.

“I’m sorry, did you say, the Jeons? As in—”

“Yes, yes, the Jeons. Jeon Jeong Gyu and Jeon Jungkook, to be specific, along with their security team.” Ms. Tejan flips open one of her files and starts to look through it, oblivious of you and your coworker’s shell shocked expressions. “Mr. Jeon’s secretary sent me an email this morning about it, as well as the details on how they want everything set up when they arrive. It’s all in this file.” She places a file on the counter of the desk, along with the few others in her arms.

“The rest of the files are on how we should handle the press and paparazzi prior to their arrival, as well as during and after. Even though you were tasked to memorize these during your orientation, I believe that you’ll need them. After all, it’s been quite a while since the Jeon family has paid us a visit.”

Your boss clasps her hands together in excitement. “Well, any questions?”

Namjoon is still too surprised to speak, and all you can manage is a small shake of the head.

“Great! They’ll be arriving in…” she checks her watch, “about an hour and a half. I expect that you’ll be ready by then.”

And like that, you and Namjoon are left in the lobby with nothing but a stack of files to combat the immense amount of attention that is about to be thrown upon the hotel.  

———

“It should be illegal to give us less than five hours notice that the Jeons are coming,” you growl while frantically jabbing numbers into the reception phone. You double tap your earrings to connect them to the hotel system and wait for someone to pick up. “Especially if we’re low on staff.”

After letting the information thrown at you process for a few minutes, you and Namjoon had immediately sprung into action, sending out hotel announcements to staff and customers alike, asking them to stay out of the lobby this morning. There had been a few questions as to why, as well as a few protests, but the two of you were handling it as well as you could.

The fact that numerous people called  in sick today only made it worse— the bulk of the work had been left to the two of you. Needless to say, everything is being done a bit frantically, but to the best of your abilities.

Namjoon isn’t faring any better, furiously typing away at the computer and squinting when the holographic screen occasionally glitches. “Agreed. No one answers their emails within two hours goddammit, and I can’t seem to get ahold of Ms. Tejan again—”

Someone finally picks up at the other side of your line. “Hello?”

You hold a finger up to Namjoon and clear your throat. “Hi, this is Jeon Hotel receptionist A41 speaking, I would like to request a full security team at the lobby by 10:30 a.m today.”

The speaker on the other line scoffs. “By 10:30? Are you crazy? Do you know what time it is?”

“Yes, I am aware that this is very short notice, but it is imperative that your team arrives here by stated time,” you press, rolling your eyes. “The Jeon family is coming, and we were given orders to—”

“Fuck,” the other line curses, and you hear a faint crashing sound. “Y-yeah, yeah, we’ll get one there as soon as possible, just— hold on a second.”

“Alright,” you hum, pulling up the other computer screen. The hologram pops up and you start replying to emails regarding the lobby shut down as you wait for the other user to come back again.

A minute later, the other line appears again. “We’ve arranged teams K-7 and K-8 to secure the hotel lobby,” someone coughs,“and Team K-9 should arrive later to help with Mr. Jeon’s personal security with the press and curious bystanders.”

“Thank you so much— we’ll see you soon.” You hang up and tuck yet another stray hair back behind your ear, only for it to fall back down a few moments later.

Namjoon notices and snickers at your frustration. “You know, you should really invest in a hairband or something. Or a larger clip.”

You glare at the man. “Shut up,” you mutter, a blush crawling up your cheeks. “It’s whatever.”

———

After the arrival of the security team and a few more adjustments to the lobby decor, you and Namjoon stand ramrod straight as the two of you watch a couple sleek black hovers slow near the entrance of the hotel. A significant number of people are also watching the procession come to a pause, most notably those with flashing cameras and giant microphones. The hotel security had managed to section the public a few feet away from the doors, but nothing is guaranteed when a large crowd is involved.

Suddenly, the doors open and a flurry of people block the entrance, both to protect and assault the men exiting the vehicles. Lots of shouting is heard and you visibly wince, not excited to deal with the mess afterwards. Namjoon sends you a reassuring smile which you return, but everything flies out of your mind when two tall men in suits start advancing toward the reception desk.

The older of the two men walks with a strong purpose, his oxfords gently tapping on the marble floor. He seems the more relaxed of the two, with both of his hands in his pockets, occasionally taking one out to point at a piece of decor or to get his son’s attention. The younger man, however, walks with an air of authority around him— he seems more headstrong, ambitious, confident. His face is void of emotion as he takes notice of what his father is leading his attention to, only nodding to appease the older man.

They’re halfway across the lobby when your eyes clash with the younger man’s— in a split second, you hold your breath as his gaze possesses yours; a flicker of emotion crosses his face. Before you could analyze it, though, his eyes narrow, noticing Namjoon and the lack of space between your bodies.

Suddenly—

“Welcome to Jeon Hotel on 54th and Holly,” Namjoon softly calls out, leveling his gaze. “How can we help you?”

A grin breaks out on the older man’s face and he holds out his hand for your coworker to shake. Namjoon takes it, although a bit shakily. “Hello...Namjoon,” Jeong Gyu booms after taking a moment to read his nametag. “How are you today?”

“I’m doing well, thank you for asking, sir,” the younger man responds. He gestures a hand to you. “This is my fellow receptionist, Miss L/N.”

You lightly bow, feeling a constant gaze on you. Not Jeong Gyu’s, but his son’s.

“She and I will do our best to make sure that you and your son have excellent care throughout your stay at the hotel,” Namjoon continues.

After nodding in agreement, you notice that the Jeon penthouse is ready for their arrival via a blue notice on your computer screen. Scanning the hologram, you look up and exchange a smile with Jeong Gyu. “Speaking of excellent care, I believe your penthouse is ready, sir. Would you like some refreshments delivered up to your room beforehand? Sandwiches? Cocktails?”

Before Jeong Gyu could reply, though, his son cut him off. “Yes, please,” he murmurs, catching your gaze once again. You freeze.

He’s inches away from your face, way too close for comfort, but you can’t seem to back away. Something dark is swirling in those hazel irises— something untamed. Something you want to tame.

Shit.

Back away, back away, be professional, get back on track, stop staring—

Thankfully, professionalism is embedded into your blood so you gently smile, knocking yourself out of your stupor. “Of course, Mr. Jeon. Is there a refreshment you had—”

“Jungkook,” he interrupts again, gaze unwavering. “Please, call me Jungkook.”

You swallow. “Yeah. Sure. S-so uh, Jungkook-ssi, was there a refreshment that you had in mind?”

The corners of his mouth quirks up and you almost melt, your legs starting to tremble. Not only from embarrassment, but also from fear.

This man can snap his slender fingers and your life could be improved— or ruined. You could only hope that it was the former that might happen, not the latter. Everything is out of your hands.

The ball is always in his court.

Which is one thing you hate about him. You hate that he always has the upper hand, the final call, the power— you can’t deny him of anything without risking your job or, god forbid, your life. And he flaunts it, too. He gloats his wealth, his money, thinking that it makes him the most eligible bachelor in the world. And while he is undeniably good looking, that doesn’t mean you have an aching impulse to smack the side of his chiseled face.

You think he got the wrong message though, since Jungkook’s hazel eyes fill with amusement as he takes in your affected state, seemingly pleased with himself. Namjoon shoots you a concerned glance, though; his hand discreetly hovering above your waist in case you fall.

He wasn’t discreet enough, it seems, as Jungkook spots the movement and the amusement in his eyes flickers away, replaced with something hard and closed. Not one to be deterred, he continues. “Why don’t you surprise me, Miss L/N? I’m sure you can handle it.”

You nod, your head moving a bit jerkily. Clearing your throat, “Yes, I can. I’ll have it sent up right away.”

Jungkook hums. “No.”

You blink in surprise, hand wavering above the room service icon on your screen. “Excuse me, what?”

Bruh, does this pretentious brat want his stupid food or not?  

“I said no,” the taller man continues while inspecting a button on his suit. “I would like you to personally deliver it to my penthouse, instead of room service.”

Jaw dropping, you sneak a glance to Namjoon who seems equally as shocked. “I-”

“...If that’s alright with you,” Jeong Gyu cuts in. You had almost forgotten he was there. The old man shoots you an apologetic smile. “I’m sorry, dear. My son can get carried away with, uh, his ambitions quite often. He doesn’t mean to be imposing.” He turns and pats Jungkook on the cheek. “Isn’t that right?”

The heir rolls his eyes and finally backs away from you, seemingly annoyed. He grumbles his apologies under his breath and shakes off his father’s hand, eyes narrowed.

You, on the other hand, are taking full advantage of the personal space that has been given back to you. After taking a few deep breaths, you put on your customer service smile and make it as genuine as you can. “It’s quite alright, Mr. Jeon. I’ll personally deliver the refreshments up to your penthouse, as Jungkook-ssi has requested.”

A brilliant grin appears on Jungkook’s face. “Great. I’ll see you in a few.”

That rich bastard has the audacity to give you a wink before sauntering away with a smug look on his face. His father slightly bows and, after you and Namjoon both return it, walks toward the elevator to where his son is standing, his oxfords echoing on the floor.

You also can’t help but notice how good Jungkook’s ass looks as he walks away.

Once the men are out of earshot, you shudder. “Oh my god,” you breathe out, closing your eyes. “I should be promoted with all the patience I have for Jeon Jungkook.”

Namjoon hums in agreement, looking a bit shaken as well. “That was probably one of the most life-threatening moments you will ever have,” he adds solemnly, running his hand through his hair. “But when he asked you to personally deliver his food? Christ, Y/N, I don’t know how you did it.”

You let out a humorless chuckle. “I guess customer service is just really good at the Jeon Hotels,” you appeal, “especially the one between 54th and Holly.”

———

Ding.

The elevator doors open and you step in, swiping your wristband on the scanner and pressing the number 88. A few seconds later, the doors close and you feel the elevator pick up speed, zooming to your destination.

As you wait, you look down at the meal cart in front of you. Duck foie gras, Iberico ham, and caviar in a small dish stare back at you in their $10,000 glory, along with the small stack of raspberry macarons and plates of dark chocolate souffle.

“Rich people,” you mock under your breath, pursing your lips in annoyance. “Refreshments? Oh yeah, I’ll just have a few caviar on a cracker. $200 for a snack? Oh sure, why not.”

Without a second thought, you take one of the macarons and pop it into your mouth, just to be petty. After swallowing, you come to realize what you’ve done and a feeling akin to horror dawns upon you.

But then you realize that no one (except you) knows how many macarons were there in the first place.

So you laugh.

Wiping your mouth, you check what floor you’re on.

Nearly there.

At last, the elevator doors open and you’re greeted with white leather couches and bearskin rugs; a wet bar sits in the corner and a gigantic kitchen peeks to your right. Stepping into the penthouse, you immediately feel uncomfortable and out of place.

Nevertheless, you have to do your job and deliver the damn food.

“Hello?” You call out, trying to find someone. “It’s Miss L/N from reception— I have the refreshments you’ve requested.”

“In the kitchen,” a voice calls out, “behind the sink.”

Pushing the cart around the corner, you see Jungkook at a counter next to the sink with a laptop and a pile of files beside it. He looks up and gives you a smile, spotting the cart. “Ah, food is here.” The tall man stands up and stalks toward you, never taking his eyes off your chest. You inwardly scoff but maintain a smiling exterior, reminding yourself that this was your job— you had to do this.

You had to do this even though goddamn, he looks like a five course meal with those rolled-up sleeves and tightly-fitted slacks. Oh my god, are those his thighs?

(Not to mention your inner demon that’s practically squealing at the fact that he’s looking at your breasts.)

“Yes, I’ve brought your refreshments,” you say through gritted teeth, still discreetly ogling him. “Is there anything else I can get for you before I leave?”

“Hmm, I think so,” the heir murmurs, sliding the cart away from you. You shiver as he stalks forward, maintaining eye contact. “I would like to get something else from you.”

You feel your legs turning into mush. Clearing your throat, you look away. “A-and what might that be?”

Your heart is beating at a million miles an hour.

You also feel your heart is tearing as he speaks, his soothing tenor voice flowing around your body like silk. To fight or fly, is the question. Or, to stay and give in.

Jungkook uses his hand to tilt yours back up, forcing you to regain eye contact. His eyes wander to your lips and you instinctively lick them, Jungkook’s eyes flashing back to yours. Slowly but surely, he lessens the space between you two until he’s so close that you can feel the heat of his mouth. You lean forward too, throwing your inhibitions into the wind and tasting his breath.

Your noses are touching; his gaze is unwavering.

Alarms go off in your head.

You jerkily step back, accidentally knocking his nose with your head in the process. The heir yelps in pain and winces in pain, officially ruining the moment. “Sorry,” you blurt out, heat rushing to your face.

Jungkook wipes his nose with his hand. “What the hell?” he grumbles, confused. “I thought you were into me or something.”

His hand comes off with a dot of red and you pale. “Fuck,” you mutter, springing into action. You guide the man-child to the kitchen stool where you push him down, forcing him to sit on the white plush.

“What—”

Scanning the kitchen, you spot a roll of paper towels and rip a piece off then tear it into smaller squares. You take a small square and roll it up so it’s small enough to fit into Jungkook’s nostril.

Looking up to check on him, it seems that he’s finally discovered that there’s blood dripping from his nose. His eyes are wide as saucers as he looks at his bloodied hand in surprise.

By now, there’s a few drops of blood on his crisp white dress shirt and you hiss in annoyance, hating to see something so pure and clean dirtied. Ignoring your impulse to tear off Jungkook’s shirt and clean it right away, you gently nudge the paper towel roll into his nose so that it absorbs the blood as it flows. Satisfied, you check his face for other injuries.

Other than his extreme expression of confusion and shock, he looks fine.

“You have a bloody nose,” you carefully explain, watching his face. “Blood spilled a bit on your shirt, but you’re fine.”

“Oh,” is all he says, softly. “I see.”

You heft yourself up on a neighboring stool, facing him. The two of you sit in an awkward silence for a bit, replaying the series of events that just went down in your minds. Jungkook suddenly clears his throat and touches the towel in his nose. “So uh, is that how you always reject guys?”

You blink. “I’m sorry?”

The man huffs frustratedly which, strangely enough, reminds you of an angry child. “I mean, do you always injure men after leading them on? Or women,” he adds, “if you swing that way.”

Blushing, you shake your head. “Um, no, I don’t usually um,” you mutter, “injure men, I mean. When I’m into them. Or for any reason. Unless it’s for self-defense or whatever.”

Oh my god, just shut up.

You wince. “It was sort of just a knee-jerk reaction I had. Sorry.”

“Oh,” he says again. A pause.

You can see the gears turning in his brain.

“So… does that mean you wanna go out with me?” Jungkook tries, hopeful.

“Ah,” you begin, “you see, the thing is—”

He interrupts. “Was that other receptionist your boyfriend?”

You shake your head. “No, no, it’s just...I don’t have time to date. Sorry.”

It wasn’t a complete lie, but it was kind of  lazy. Ingenuine. You didn’t bother explaining anything, and telling the truth wouldn’t be quite a good idea, either. Imagine: yeah, I can’t date you because I kind of hate the entire thing your family has going on with the country-domination type beat and I have to uphold my beliefs even though you’re insanely mouthwatering hot and can imagine you pinning me down on my bed. Sorry bubs.

So the dumb little lie will have to do.

“What about, just one date,” Jungkook presses on, eyes lighting up. “Please, Y/N? Just one date?”

“Jungkook—”

“Hear me out, okay?” he pleads, holding your gaze. You reluctantly nod and he grins while ripping the bloodied paper towel roll out of his nose. “Okay so, there’s this gala thing coming up, right? And there’s going to be some people there, no big deal—”

You watch as he shoves another roll into his nose as he continues to animatedly talk about your maybe-date with him. “—but we don’t have to talk to others if you don’t want to. I just have to check in and tell them I’m there, for like, attendance purposes or whatever, and it doesn’t really matter ‘cus it’s my dad’s thing—”

“Jungkook,” you interrupt, a realization dawning upon you, “is this the June Gala you’re talking about?”

The man stops moving, staring at you uneasily. “Uh, maybe?”

You immediately shake your head. “No. No way. There’s going to be way too many important people there— it’s going to be scary as hell. No.”

“Y/N,” Jungkook whines. “C’mon, you don’t have to meet anyone, it’s just a bunch of fancy people anyway—”

“Fancy people,” you comment, “don’t eat small businesses for breakfast, lunch, dinner, and teatime. Fancy people,” you emphasize, your voice getting louder in volume, “don’t plan to kill people who oppose them.”

A weighted silence fills the air when you finish your rant and you feel a tinge of fear shiver up your spine. Did you just out yourself to the son of the most powerful man in the country?

“I see,” Jungkook says slowly, as if he doesn’t want to frighten you. “So your heart is set on not going?”

Taking a deep breath, you nod. “I’m afraid so. It’s just too risky— I hope you understand. People who attend the gala don’t exactly— err— like my ideals.”

The heir stands up and walks around to where his suit jacket is hanging from a chair. You also stand up, making small advances to the elevator.

It feels too awkward to be standing here anymore.

“So uh,” you point to the elevator doors, “I’ll just go.”

“Hold on,” Jungkook commands, and walks back after shuffling his hand around in the suit jacket. He grabs your wrist and slides a piece of paper into your hand, leaning near your ear. “In case you change your mind, call me.”

You nod and politely bow. “Thank you, Jungkook-ssi.”

He nods in return, watching you swipe your wrist on the scanner and enter the elevator. Turning around to face him, you shoot him one last smile. “Enjoy your refreshments, Mr. Jeon.”

Then the doors close.

———

“WHAT?” Jeon Somi shrieks, her hologram flickering. “He did WHAT?”

“Yup,” you say, popping the p. You hold up the card Jungkook had given you this morning. “I have Jeon Jungkook’s number.”

Somi looks like a kid on christmas who finally got the 5,000 silly bandz pack she’s been begging for. “Y/N, you’re shitting me right now. Say you’re shitting me.”

“Nope.”

“Oh my god, you have to call him and say yes,” your best friend squeals, rolling on her bed. She stops rolling to give you a stern look. “What are you doing? Call him, now!”

Rolling your eyes, you fight a smile. “Somi, I already told you why it isn’t a good idea—”

“But he obviously likes you enough to give you his number,” she hisses frantically. Her hologram shifts as she tries to take a peek at the card. “Miss girl, if you don’t call him, I will.”

“Somi—”

“Ask for something in return,” your friend quips smartly.

“What?”

The younger woman inspects the ends of her hair, grimacing when she finds dead ends. “Y’know, he obviously likes you. He tried to kiss you, let you patch him up, asked you out several times, which, I may add, you very rudely denied, then gave you his number. I’ll bet that he’s desperate enough to do nearly anything to get you on a date.”

You sit up in interest. “You think so?”

Somi scoffs. “Oh honey, I know so.”

Hmm.

You stare at the slip of paper a bit more, wondering.

Could he really give you what you wanted?

“What are you thinking about?” Somi inquires, examining your face. “You got so serious all of a sudden.”

You pause.

“I’m gonna call the Jeon kid,” you announce, scrambling up from your seat on the bed.

“Hell yeah,” your best friend whoops, cheering you on. “That’s my girl. Get that dick!”

“Shut up,” you blush, ending the call with a flick of your hand. Clutching the slip of paper in your hand, you slowly exhale.

Hands trembling, you shakily type the numbers into the phone of your wristband, expanding it so you can clearly see the screen.

A few seconds go by and you hear nothing but the beeping of the line.

Then—

“Hello?”  

a/n: chapter two will (hopefully) come soon! i have a vague idea of what I want to happen but feel free to speculate in my inbox (if u want) :)) or u can also j use my inbox to tell me to hurry the fawk up- for motivation purposes. 

#btswritingcafe #btsgoldnet #bangtanhq #btscreatorscorner #w: foth #sugacouture #jjk x reader #jungkook fluff #jungkook angst #jungkook fic

[princesslocket]

🥣 Made With Love 🥣

Hi hi! Before we get to the fanfic, I'd just like to say a big thank you to @ina11writingexchange for hosting this awesome writers exchange! I'm so glad to have been able to participate for this round as well as being given the opportunity to gift @hachuna yet another gift this year!

With that being said, I hope you enjoy this Hachuna! It was a lot of fun to write ((Btw this fic is also cross-posted on AO3 if anyone is interested in reading it there too! The link is in the title))

If anyone were to ask Endou Natsumi what her favorite pass time activity was, she’d automatically answer with “cooking!” and then excitedly list off all the dishes she had made within the past week. It always amazed her friends just how passionate she was about preparing food in the kitchen.

However, she hadn’t always been a fan of cooking.

Natsumi’s love for cooking had originated during her time spent managing the Raimon soccer team in her middle school years. In the beginning she had been quiet hesitant to even try making a rice ball but after she mastered the art of the rice ball, her love for cooking sparked almost instantaneously. It only took preparing a couple more meals before Natsumi was fully onboard with the idea of preparing food in general. It filled her with a sense of pride whenever she was able to witness the team enjoying the meals she, Haruna, and Aki made for them. The compliments they dished out were a great source of ego boosting as well, but she always made it point to stay humble. And even after the team graduated, leaving her with no one else to cook for, Natsumi continued to search up new recipes to try making for herself in the comfort of her own home.

Over the years her cooking had improved, albeit not as significantly as everyone had hoped for, but just enough to where she no longer mixed up the salt and sugars when she tried baking the occasional birthday cake. It was a subtle yet profound type of improvement that left Endou that much more hopeful for their future meals seeing as he had married her not too long after her cooking had started to improve.

One thing that really helped Natsumi improve in her cooking was through the aid of an old looking cook book she just so happened to borrow from Endou! She’d seen the book several times laying in various places throughout their house but had never bothered to look through it until one day when her curiosity got the better of her and she found herself rejoicing at all the cool looking recipes inside. Oh the joy she felt while flipping through the pages was almost too good. How had she not opened the book sooner?

Following the days upon opening the cook book, Natsumi happily followed the messily written instructions provided by the cook book to prepare dishes that she could only assume had been passed down from Endou’s family. She would later find out from Endou himself that the cook book she had been using was actually Endou Daisuke’s hissatsu manual. The discovery came as quiet a shook to Natsumi seeing as she had been following the instructions of the book for several weeks, even going as far to serving a boy named Matsukaze Tenma some of said dishes as well. But all Endou could do was laugh at the situation they found themselves in.

“You mean to tell me that this really isn’t the kanji for egg?”

“I’m positive, Natsumi. These are the instructions for God Hand- Wait a second! How were even able to mistake this for a cook book? I thought you knew what Daisuke’s hissatsu manual looked like?”

“It’s been a while since I last saw it okay!”

Even after the discovery of the ‘cook book’s’ true nature was revealed Natsumi continued to use it. Admittedly, the food Natsumi made following the hissatsu manual never inherently tasted terribly bad. So what harm was there in letting her continue to use it? As long as Endou was there to assist her with some of the misinterpreted kanji of the book, everything was fine.

Unfortunately, not all good things lasted forever. On one particular day an unforeseen disaster appeared out of nowhere…

Natsumi had been preparing dinner in the kitchen when it happened. She hadn’t thought anything of it at first. Ever since Endou took over as Raimon’s coach, he would occasionally return home late, so why would this time be any different? As the minutes ticked by Natsumi continued to prepare dinner. While she maneuvered around the kitchen she kept herself entertained with the quiet sound of the T.V. playing in the background.

Although she usually paid no mind to what the news anchors were saying, something about that night in particular urged her to listen carefully. She had been cutting away at a bundle of carrots when a certain news report caught her attention. Although they weren’t showing video footage of the incident taking place, the news anchors reported a massive car crash near Raimon.

Upon hearing the name of the school, Natsumi put all food to the side and quickly ran to her phone, dialing up Endou to ask if he was still at the school. Knowing her husband, he would most likely be assisting whoever had been unfortunate enough to get hurt outside of their old school. But when he didn’t answer her first, second, or third call, Natsumi began to worry. The news anchors wouldn’t disclose the names of the people involved in the accident, nor would they show the faces of anyone other than the reporter on duty. They did, however, announce the arrival of special dispatched services on the scene as well as the name of the hospital the heavily injured were being taken to.

After a while Natsumi’s phone began to ring, which she immediately answered. Letting out a sigh of relief, Natsumi pressed the phone to her ear, ready to hear Endou’s cheerful voice. With everything appearing to be taken care of on screen, Endou was surely going to fill her in on everything that had happed. It was a good thing she had prepared so much food for the night!

“Natsumi, it’s Kidou, we don’t have much time- It’s Endou… He got into a car crash and- You need to hurry. An ambulance is already taking him to the hospital but… I’ll fill you in on everything once you get here-“

“I’m on the way.”

Within seconds Natsumi was already racing out of the house, dinner abandoned in the kitchen and T.V still playing quietly in the background. She did everything in her power to get to the hospital as fast as she could but it was too late. By the time she came rushing in through the hospital doors, Endou had been pronounced dead.

Time flashed by in a blur following Endou’s death. His funeral came and went, the days following blended together a little too seamlessly and Natsumi’s love for cooking diminished along with her once cheery life. Without Endou around, she no longer held the motivation to prepare any kind of meal in or out of the kitchen. Even when Haruna, Aki, and Fuyuka tried to rekindle their little cooking arties, Natsumi couldn’t bring herself to make anything. Everything she had ever made was out of her love for Endou.

As time went by, Natsumi slowly began to store her cooking utensils away. If she wasn’t going to be cooking anymore, than why bother keep them out in the open to collect dust?

She was in the middle of labeling a soon to be packed away box of kitchen ladles one day when the sound of knocking stopped her. Setting her marker to the side, Natsumi walked to the front door. Her knees nearly buckled when she gazed out the peep hole to see who was outside.

Standing just outside the door was Endou… But it couldn’t be him, right? He had passed away months ago. She had gone to his funeral and everything! There was no way her could possibly be standing outside. As she was thinking these thoughts an almost indescribable feeling washed over her. Suddenly she couldn’t remember attending a funeral nor could she remember why she had started packing away all her cooking supplies. It was as if she was just now waking up from some type of horrible nightmare, a nightmare had clouded over her real life for the past several months.

Whatever nightmare she been under was finally over. Any trace of sadness and despair melted away the longer she stared at Endou. Instead, the feelings were replaced with joy and relief. Although the sudden change in feelings were a little unexpected, they weren’t unwelcomed. In fact she was all the happier to embrace them!

Not wanting to keep Endou waiting any longer, Natsumi decidedly threw the door open, startling Endou as it swung to the side, and proceeded to jumping into the arms of the man in front of her.

“Mamoru!” Tears were streaming down her cheeks as she pressed herself as tightly as she could to her husband. “I can’t explain it but it feels like I haven’t seen you in forever! Where have you been all day?”

“Woah! I missed you too! Oh man, Natsumi, you wouldn’t believe all the crazy things that happened to me ‘today.’ I’ve got so much to tell you but, uh, I think it’d be best if we went inside first.” Contradictory to his own words, Endou hugged Natsumi even closer to himself, thus rendering any attempt to head into the house useless.

For several long minutes the two stood outside their house, hugging each other, and exchanging a few words before wither one of them made any real attempts to pull away. But when they did, it was Natsumi who moved away. She waisted no time in dragging Endou inside and towards their dining room table, pulling out a chair for him to sit in and then rushing off towards their refrigerator in search of something for them to eat.

Strangely enough, the refrigerator was once again filled with an abundance of food Natsumi had almost no recollection of buying. She glanced a look to Endou, who at first made no comment, but as soon as she turned her back had heard the faintest of words from him.

“I guess time really did reset itself.”

From that day on life returned to normal, or as normal as it could be with Natsumi knowing her ‘nightmare’ had in fact been real but was now a part of a separate timeline of sorts. But seeing as their current timeline was restored, Natsumi decidedly let her supposed bad months drift away.

She started cooking again, only this time she followed tutorials online through YouTube and an odd app called TikTok. When Endou asked why she was following so many different cooking videos, Natsumi would claim that “the hissatsu manual could only offer so much.”

Despite her best efforts her cooking still left much to be desired from. But Endou never truly cared about the overall outcome of the food he’d be offered.

“It’s the thought counts.” He’d tell himself whenever a dish was placed in front of him. “If it’s for Natsumi, I’d gladly eat a thousand more meals of her cooking- I’d do anything to make her happy.”

#inazuma eleven #ennatsu #ina11writingexchange #endou mamoru #natsumi raimon #endou natsumi #angst #implied/referenced character death #But no one really dies #trust me #cooking

[bad-bitch-beauchamp]

Songs About Me: Chapter Five

Thanks for your continued support for these sweet artsy bairns! Here’s the next installment! I read all of your kind comments and they mean the absolute world to me.

READ ON AO3

Louisburg Square, Beacon Hill, Boston

Claire was just walking up to the picturesque green of Louisburg Square, where her townhouse sat facing the gardens, when her phone began an incessant buzzing. She had her hands full after stopping at the market for dinner staples (otherwise known as a box of Velveeta Shells & Cheese). She was fumbling with her purse and muttering a not-so-quiet “Shit,” when she dropped her keys on the porch. When she stooped lower to get the keys, more toiletries from the market spilled onto the ground and rolled down the steps while her phone continued to buzz. “Oh fuck it all to hell… Oh hello, Mr. Grant!” Claire’s next door neighbor was a kind man, but always appeared perplexed -- whether by her uncontrollable hair, clothes splattered with dirt from the shop, or simply by wondering how she came to be the owner of one of the most coveted real estate properties in New England, Claire would never know.

“Hello dear. Are you alright over there?” His brow was knit as Claire shoved her scattered belongings back into their various bags all while muttering under her breath as to not offend the old man’s sensibilities. She stood, and realized he had most definitely already heard her vocabulary choices.

“Oh, I’m fine, just one of those days!” One of those days where you fall head over heels for the strange guy you met last night and then all your shit falls on the sidewalk because your brain is short-circuiting.

“Well as always, if you need anything, I’m just here and happy to help.”

“Thank you! One day I’ll absolutely take you up on it -- I’m usually less of a mess!” She tried to joke it off, but it sounded a little too much like she was trying to justify herself to neighbor, and herself.

Mr. Grant smiled. “Of course, dear. Ah, you seem to be very popular today!”

Claire’s phone went off for at least the fifth time. She tried to reign in her annoyance, said her goodbyes to the man, and using her foot to kick a back of groceries inside the doorway finally made it inside. She dug around her bag for the phone ready to lash out at whatever telemarketer couldn’t take a hint, but stopped.

Two missed phone calls, four missed texts. The caller left a voicemail for each call. She pressed play on the earlier one.

“Hi Sassenach, uh, Claire, I guess I should call ye Claire since that’s yer name, huh? Shit. Hold on… Okay, let me start over. Hello Claire, this is Jamie. James. James Fraser? From the bookshop and the karaoke, ye ken? Of course she kens, ye damn eedjit… Me! Not you! Oh god this is literally the worst call I’ve ever made in my life. Fuck it, I’m just going to try again.��� The voicemail abruptly ended. Claire was in stitches at his earnest attempt to just talk to her. At least he wasn’t lying when she heard him say she wouldn’t have to wait long at all for message from him. She pressed play on the second voicemail.

“Hello Claire, I hope this message finds ye well. It was verra nice to see ye today at my shop. It may be the cool, relaxed thing tae do would be to not call ye right away, but ye make me feel anything but cool and relaxed and under control. Ye make me feel… like there’s something different between us, mo nighean donn. As I told ye in the shop, I dinna think I can wait another week to see ye. If you would do me the honor of saying yes, I would verra much like to take ye out for dinner and drinks. Or anything ye wanted to do, really. Dinner and drinks was just my idea… okay I think I’m getting flustered again so I’m going to quit while I’m ahead. Okay thanks, talk to you soon hopefully, bye. Oh, and this is Jamie Fraser.”

Her laughter had died out the moment he said how she made him feel. Is that really how he felt about her? Did he mean it? Claire had a feeling that Jamie Fraser from the bookshop and the karaoke, ye ken didn’t ever say things he didn’t mean. She fell into the couch facing the big bay window, and breathed. Her breath came in heavy, her heartbeats fast. Her thoughts were swirling and her mind racing and everything felt light around here. A little breathlessly, she opened her text app to a number she didn’t recognize.

[[phone]]: Hello Claire, this is James Fraser from Fraser Literature and from karaoke last night at The 21st Amendment.

Claire actually laughed out loud now. As if she could forget who he was! He had turned her world upside down at the bar, she sang in his shop, she gave him her phone number less than an hour ago! She added his number to her contacts before reading his following texts.

[Jamie]: Okay that was weirdly formal, sorry

[Jamie]: Could ye do me a favor and just delete the first voicemail?

[Jamie]: I was hoping we could maybe set up a time for the date I mentioned earlier at the shop? I would really like to see ye again before next week.

[Jamie]: And maybe before we have to hang out with the Spanish Inquisition. ;)

Claire laughed through her nose at that last one; apparently, Jamie had been grilled about their relationship? Interaction? by Rupert and Angus like Claire had been by Joe and Geillis. She reread all the messages he’d sent her before responding.

[Claire]: Hello James Fraser, owner of Fraser Literature and karaoke. I do indeed remember and even if I didn’t, you’ve reminded me several times in your many incessant texts/voicemails. ;)

Three dots immediately popped up, disappeared, popped up, and a next text appeared.

[Jamie]: I told ye to delete the first voicemail! You weren’t supposed to hear my rambling!

[Claire]: Uh huh, seems likely. ;) Maybe I have a super power that renders you useless around me?

[Jamie]: Well lass you're not far off.

[Jamie]: How’s about that date? What are you doing tonight?

[Claire]: Lol, you’re not tired of seeing my face yet?

[Jamie]: Not yet, not ever.

[Jamie]: Sooooooooo, dinner? ;)

Eventually, they decided on a little Italian place close to Claire’s place. Claire paced around the upstairs bedroom, trying out an outfit only to rip it off and throw it in a pile on the floor. She’d walk to the bathroom, evaluate her look, give a deep breath out her nose, and was now at the point of yelling about how she had no clothes. But, she remembered. In a garment bag at the back of her closet hung a blood-orange dress. A square neckline gave way to a triangle dip in the middle, the hem came just to the middle of her thigh with a cinched waistline.. She smiled, sadly. The last time she wore the dress, she was still in med school. Frank had asked her out to “a dinner with a few medical friends” and promised she could make a few connections to help her down the road. Claire ended up discarded at the door until Frank needed to show her off to a classmate or professor or colleague. She learned he hadn’t told anyone she was also studying medicine, telling her he “wanted to let you stand on your own, darling.” The last time she had worn that dress, she realized she wouldn’t resign herself to a life of being second-best to her partner, to a group of strangers, or to anyone. Tonight was the perfect time to remind herself she was taking things into her own hands yet again -- with Jamie at her side. Her smile turned genuine, and she pulled it off the hanger.

-- -- --

Jamie knew this was unusual. Claire wasn’t the first girl he’d ever been interested in, but if he had any choice in the matter, she would be the last one. Rationally, he should’ve been talking himself out of planning a future with the girl from the bar, but he couldn’t help himself. When he was in high school in Scotland, he kissed a girl who smelled like hairspray and spun sugar and he didn’t like that at all. He kissed a few lasses before rugby games and they’d tell him it was all for good luck. He enjoyed them (didn’t every red-blooded teenage boy enjoy kisses before sports games?), but enjoyment was the extent of it. In college, he had met Annalise. She was smart and kind and lovely, and so bonny. She’d loved his family, loved him. And he had loved her, too. Their relationship started after their first year at school when they became close friends and confidants. She was truly one of the best friends he’d ever had, outside of the lads. When he said he was leaving Scotland to pursue his dreams in the states, she said she was being “abandoned”. Jamie considered asking her to come with him to build a life, but reconsidered. After many long conversations, many tears, many honest words… they had decided their relationship was based in comfort. They loved each other, there was no doubt about that. They loved each other because of their close friendship, their proximity to each other at school, their families’ friendship that developed because of their own. When Jamie confronted Annalise about his realization that he would forever be grateful for her, but didn’t see a romantic future together, she had cried and told him she was so happy -- she felt the same. They split amicably and continued to call and text when they could. Friendships like theirs didn’t just dissipate.

With Claire, things felt… different. Emotional, raw, honest, profound. It felt like something he couldn’t quite place. Something he didn’t have words for. The mere thought of her made his pulse quicken, made his breath catch in his chest. Their connection last night at the bar, their physical connection at the bookshop (god, how it felt to be touched by her…) , their easy banter over text, and then when she gave him her address… he had to sit down. He knew her address exactly. He’d passed it every time he went home, or went to work, or went anywhere at all. She lived in Louisburg Square, across the garden and just to the right of a place he knew intimately. She lived across the garden and just to the right, of his place. They were neighbors. He never knew. He thought back to telling her how they must have just been missing each other for years, but god, he never knew how close they really were.

Jamie finished tying up his leather boots and took a look in the mirror. Hair brushed back, curls falling at his neck, a light blue button-up, a leather jacket. Not too bad. Still not good enough for her, though. He tugged at the neck of his shirt, and left his townhouse. He made his way up his side of the square, and stopped not ten feet up the sidewalk. He saw her. From the second floor, Claire was illuminated by soft light in the window, gauzy curtains framing her. He could only watch in awe as her head tilted to the side to fit an earring to her ear. She reached for a brush and started to comb out a curl. Jamie sighed contentedly when he noticed her hair was still down, curled around her face, wild as ever. Claire gave up with the brush and settled herself to smoothing down creases in her wee dress with delicate hands. Hands that had touched him, healed him, had literally written her name over his heart. She was... ethereal. Tearing his eyes away from the window, he managed to send her a message:

[Jamie]: On my way there Sassenach

[Claire]: No worries, take your time. See you soon!

Jamie rounded the center garden and up to her steps. The light from the window was still glowing, but he could no longer see her. One more text:

[Jamie]: Just outside

He walked up the steps, raised his knuckles to the brass knocker, and paused. First step to forever… His phone buzzed.

[Claire]: I thought I said to take your time? ;) seriously, how’d you get here so fast? Just a sec and I’ll be down!

He did knock then, answered her text to say there was no rush, he wasn’t going anywhere. Behind the door he heard a literal run down the stairs and he stifled a chuckle. There was a jingle of keys, a fairly loud, “Shit!” as the keys hit the floor, a scuttle of shoes around the entry, and the door opened.

Here we go, lad.

#songs about me fic #in which tessaactually tries fan fic #outlander fan fic #outlander fan fiction #jamie x claire #the frasers #jamie fraser #claire beauchamp

[thesunshinebunny]

Headcanons for If Lilia had a daughter from long before Malleus was born who was sucked into a portal after her mother was killed and ended up in another world like maybe fairy tale or magi (we can brainstorm about that), Lilia and company are sucked into a portal and get sent to the same world lilias daughter is in and lilia gets reunited with her and the boys meet there long unknown sister and they all meet her friends.

Uh ... I never saw Fairy Tale or Magi, so this is going to be an Odyssey for me ... NO WORRIES, I'm going to do my homework before writing this and we see what comes out (I chose the Magi anime because I liked the style much more and the mixture of cultures and classic names of the stories) I hope it meets your expectations and I am sorry for the delay.

Kissesss

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A gleaming black portal opened in the middle of Diasomnia's living room. Students running to protect themselves. A greater force absorbing everything in its path. An energy in the form of wind attracted the four most important students in the dormitory. Not even the great Malleus could endure long enough. In a matter of milliseconds, the four were absorbed and transported to wherever the portal led.

The light enveloped them, rendering them blind. There was nothing around them ...until suddenly, they felt the rocky ground on their bodies. Little by little their sight returned, letting them observe their new world; their new magical medieval world.

"Where are we supposed to be?" Malleus was the first to fully regain his senses, ready to explore the sights that now surrounded him.

"Malleus-sama, please stay close, this place is unknown to us and can be very dangerous." Sebek, still weak-footed, tried to stand firmly in front of his young master, preventing him from wandering as he normally did in Twisted Wonderland. 

"For the moment let's take a walk around, let's try to collect as much information as possible about this place and maybe find a way to return to our world"

Lilia raised his head seriously, even though within him was the desire to explore and travel the new lands full of charm and wonder. The four of them set off, walking the cobbled streets filled with people of multiple cultures and diverse clothing. Lilia was struck by the small shiny golden objects and spent the entire journey stopping at each stall and each person at the same time to observe such jewelry.

After a couple of hours, our adventurers were tired of going through so many streets without any success. With their feet smashed and their bodies heavy, the boys decided to sit in the middle of a crowded square when suddenly an explosion in the fountain caused them to panic. The water dissipated throughout the square, generating a drizzle around it. Silver dissipated the water that reached the four of them, allowing them to see clearly what was happening.

In the middle of the fountain, two figures seemed to be fighting with armor and swords that our emos boys didn’t know. People scattered to different sides, colliding with Malleus and his companions several times. It seemed that the fight had been long overdue given the bumps and bruises that these two figures had. But, as quickly as the panic raised, the violence ended, leaving the female figure victorious.

Said woman de-transformed, revealing her native clothes, a long hair (H / C) with golden braids and accessories, a body tanned from so much sunlight and a victorious smile that no evil on earth could erase. But it was the girl's eyes that caught Lilia's attention. He knew those eyes, that sparkle that appeared with every smile…ah, that smile. Yes, Lilia knew that smile very well.

"(Y/N)?"

Lilia's voice spread with the wind, like a whisper, reaching your ears. You turned around looking for the origin of that voice. Like a sailor enchanted by the song of a mermaid, you followed his voice, receiving questions from your companions. In the distance you could make out a small figure, standing out among three huge giants, with strange clothes, but the eyes and his tender smile gave away this melancholic figure.

"Papa…"

The world seemed to have stopped, everything was in slow motion. Your eyes filled with tears and your arms unconsciously reached forward, towards the figure of your lost father.

"PAPA!!!"

Your legs moved involuntarily, running towards Lilia. When you two collided, you merged into a loving embrace, years of being apart from each other led you to this meeting. After so much suffering and crying, after so much pain, you had finally met again.

"(Y/N) it's you? Is it really you? " Lilia ran his hands over your face, your hair, your shoulders, looking for any clue that would tell him that you were a hallucination, that you weren't really there standing in front of him.

"Yes, papa, it's me, it's your little dove"

Hearing the nickname he gave you in the first years of life there were no more doubts. You were there, in front of him; his little girl had returned to his arms. Tears spread and an atmosphere of calm and joy could be witnessed between the two of you… and a bit of discomfort from the three remaining emos and your companions.

"Sorry to disturb this beautiful meeting, but we feel quite confused." Malleus was the first to speak, commenting on the ideas everyone around him was having.

"Malleus? Oh my god, Malleus! " Our horned friend looked just as confused as his bodyguards, who didn’t hesitate to come between you and their young master.

“I know you surely don't recognize me, the last time I saw you, you’re still wearing the shell of the egg you were born in on your head. How much have you grown, time does pass "

"Malleus, Silver, Sebek, let me introduce you to (Y/N) ... my precious daughter"

"Alibaba, Aladdin, this fairy of such a small size...is my father"

#twisted wonderland #twst #twisted wonderland x reader #twst x reader #lilia vanrouge #lilia x reader #some fluff for the soul #twst lilia

[not-close-to-straight]

Lost and Found (Seven)

Soooo this Chapter only did like, one of the things it was supposed to and everything else just sort of happened and I got tired of arguing with it to make it behave so here, have a Chapter Seven that is only slightly like the one I outlined. 

I made myself cry with this first part, so Tissue Warning! 

MASTERLIST HERE

****************

37% 

“JARVIS?” 

“The constant tests you’ve been running with the new suit have taken a toll, sir. My original algorithm assumed you would be resting more days than not, as one should when faced with the possibly of an upcoming expiration date but with your continued activity, my projections have been rendered obsolete.”

“Okay.” Tony squeezed at the blood toxicity monitor until the casing edges cut into his palm. “Newest estimations?” 

“Given your rate of use with the reactor and the new, more powerful prototype, my previous count of three months with minimal usage will need to be dialed back to little more than eight weeks, sir.” 

“Okay.” He said again, almost neutrally as if he wasn’t discussing an expiration date with his AI. “Okay, little more than eight weeks. So all the tests I ran in the War Machine prototype over the last few days cost me what, seven days?” 

“Eleven days, actually.” 

“Okay.” Tony said a third time, mostly because he didn’t know what else to say. “That's-- thanks, J.” 

The tests were necessary, they really were. Coding Rhodey’s suit ahead of time was important because Tony was running out of time. The Senate was definitely going to order him to turn over the tech, and even if they didn’t, the suits would definitely be confiscated by the Department of Defense at some point whether Tony was around or not. The least he could do was make sure armor could only be used by one man, that the technology inside was coded to the one person Tony knew wouldn’t make a mockery or a weapon out of what was supposed to be a shield. 

Right after Obadiah, Rhodey had been so purposefully casually about eyeballing the still unfinished silver suit and commenting, “You should come up with a name for your tech, Tony. Calling it ‘the suit’ doesn’t seem like enough. I’d call it...War Machine or something.” 

War Machine and Tony had etched the name in tiny letters along the jawline of the helmet so when Rhodey suited up for the first time, he’d hopefully remember that throw away comment and laugh a little bit. 

War Machine and it was fine tuned to the point of near impossible maneuvers, filled to the brim with every prototype weapon Tony had designed for his own suit and a few more that were meant for something a little more hulking, a little more heavy duty. An individual arc reactor placed within the molded chest would power the suit for ever with the added benefit of not poisoning the wearer and--

--and Tony’s hands shook when he unscrewed the cap on a green smoothie. 

37%. 

“How is the uh--” the first drink was always brutal, and Tony had to put his head down and suck in a deep breath to get over the taste. “--how is the suitcase suit coming? We need a better name for that, don’t we?” 

“Perhaps we can call it a football, sir.” 

“Right.” Tony nodded a few times. “Carry it in a briefcase just like all the nuke launch codes. That will definitely reinforce the Senate’s thought of my suit being a weapon of mass destruction. Great idea.” 

“Your mockery wounds me.” 

“No, I was serious.” Tony laughed up at the petulant AI. “We’ll call it a football. Make Happy practice playing catch with it. Uhhhh okay. Football. How is it coming?” 

“Nearly completed.” 

“Good. I need an option beyond hauling the full suit everywhere, and so will Rhodey. Have we started construction on the individual gauntlets yet? I’m thinking something that comes out of my watch.” 

“It will have to be near nano technology to accomplish that, but we can try.” 

“Let’s try. I’d like the football ready before Monaco, I need to take it for a test drive somewhere outside of Dum-E’s fire extinguisher range.” Tony glanced over at the impressive dent in the lab ceiling that had been one of his very first test runs. “Also some place where if the repulsors come online too soon, I can hit the atmosphere and not the ceiling.” 

“Of course sir. Hurtling off into unknown and uncharted space would always be the preferred option before bouncing off support beams and landing on priceless car collections.” 

“You know me too well, J.” Tony leaned back in the chair and blew out a deep breath. “Show me the night sky. Stars above Manhattan, maybe. What I’d be looking at if I actually had the time to build that tower.” 

“Does this mean you’ve decided to scrap the plans for Stark Tower?” The space above Tony’s head lit holographic blue then settled into a starry night, the correct constellations and moon placement for the Manhattan sky projected against the ceiling. 

“I won’t have a chance to even get the blueprints approved.” Tony stared up at the stars, sipping idly from his smoothie. “No sense doing that when I won’t be around to see the ground breaking ceremony.” 

“Sir, if I may--” 

“Maybe blasting off into the atmosphere wouldn’t be such a bad way to go.” Tony interrupted. “I’ve always wanted to see space, maybe I’ll get lucky and the new suit will tear a hole in the sky and show me what’s beyond, what’s waiting out there.” 

And softer, “It’d be a good way to go, don’t you think? Space?” 

The artificial star light reflected off the tears gathering in Tony’s eyes and he tried to blink them away. “Would be nice to skip the poisoning and the hospice care and the heart failure and everyone crying, you know. Higher, faster, further like our friend Carol used to say. She did it, she just went right up there into the sky higher, faster further and she never came back down again. Fuckin’ wild.” 

Another sip. “My repulsors are better than the prototype light speed engine was, a little bit of torque and we could break the sound barrier ten times over and then some. I could take the suit up until the thrusters give out and then we could just float up there in the stars. Fall asleep and drift away.” 

JARVIS was quiet and Tony put a heart to his chest as it squeezed around a too choppy breath. “Would be nice to just fall asleep, J. It’d be nice to finally get some rest.” 

The stars above Manhattan moved too slowly to notice, but Tony sat and watched them anyway, alone in the semi dark lab for close to an hour before his watch pinged that it was time to get on the plane towards New York. 

“Save this for me.” Tony reached out and touched one of the tiny specks of lights, his fingers passing through the hologram. “Save it so I can look at it again, okay?” 

“Of course, sir.” 

“Thank you.” Tony gathered up a few things for his pockets then ran a hand through his hair and grimaced. If he was going to go on what was sort of a first date with an amnesiac former soldier, he should probably wash some of the depression off first. “I’m off to the Expo, J. Wish me luck.” 

“Good luck.” JARVIS said automatically, and then, “Please come home again, sir. I wish you all the rest in the world, but I’d rather it be here than drifting off in the stars.” 

Tony’s smile up at the ceiling was wobbly and a little sad. 

“Good night, J.” 

**************

**************

The Stark jet cut the nearly five hour flight from Malibu to New York down to little more than two hours, and Tony spent most of it sitting next to Pepper going through notes for his speech, additional paperwork for the company and what looked like several minutes of nothing but Tony teasing the formidable redhead and Pepper giving it all right back and then some if Tony’s faux wounded expressions were anything to go by. 

They were laughing and a few times Tony reached to hold Pepper’s hand, winding their fingers together and kissing her knuckles while Pepper just rolled her eyes at whatever he said. They were clearly best friends, clearly in sync after what James had found out was over a decade of working together and it was honestly remarkable to see.

More than once Tony finished Pepper's sentences, at least twice she took a bite of her food and then handed him the fork to take a bite of his own. Tony reached to touch the reactor beneath his shirt and Pepper brushed his hands away, she fiddled with the top button of her suit and Tony suggested showing more cleavage if she didn't like being so buttoned up and Pepper only sighed.

A very very quiet part of the soldier felt a twinge of jealousy whenever Pepper would get a full laugh out of Tony, but he pushed it away every time. Jealousy over such a close friendship was ridiculous and unnecessary and the sort of thing that made James's throat taste bitter. He didn't remember past relationships, didn't know if he'd ever been in love but he remembered being jealous when other people could be open with their love and their desires and he had to hide.

Why he had hid, James wasn't really sure. But he remembered the jealousy twisting his stomach and the unfairness of it all making his chest too tight and he didn't want to feel that way ever when he looked at Tony and Pepper.

So James pushed it away and looked out the window instead, watched the clouds race by beneath the jet as it tore through the sky towards New York and when Tony finally finished up with Pepper and came to sit in the chair across from him, James looked up with a ready smile.

“Hey. All done working?”

“At least for right now. Plane rides are supposed to be relaxing, not about crunching numbers or ignoring the person I'm set to spend the evening with.” Tony stretched out in the chair and loosened his tie as he looked James over, lingering over the stretch of the red sweater over James's frankly ridiculous shoulders. Wow. “You--” seriously, wow. “-- you look great.”

“Duds this nice will make any fella look great.” James's heart flip flopped a little when Tony kept looking, and he touched at his empty left sleeve self consciously. “Sure was nice of the store people to send over one of those fancy pins for this side. I just cut the sleeves off all my other shirts.”

“You'll be two thumbs up in no time, so please don't hack at your new clothes.” Tony nudged his foot against James. “You'll need both sleeves eventually.”

James grinned and slid his foot further alongside Tony's shoe. “Sure thing, Tony.”

“You know,” Tony cocked his head and tried to pretend like playing footsy wasn't making him blush. He was over forty years old, damn it. “When you're relaxed you sound like you're from New York but like, New York from the movies. Saturday Night Fever, Bronx Tale, West Side Story. That style.”

“Oh yeah?” James raised his eyebrows. “What does that mean?”

“It means--” Tony started to say something about smooth accents and flirty one-liners, about pretty boys with greasy hair and leather jackets and slick dance moves, but changed his mind because it was a little embarrassing to admit his short lived musical obsession had basically shaped his wet dreams for a good five years. 

“It means you sort of sound old fashioned. Not in uh-- not in a bad way. My Auntie Peggy was around in the forties and whenever she tells war stories she copies how the boys talked back then and you remind me of it a little bit.”

James still looked confused and Tony waved him off with a self conscious laugh. “Never mind. It doesn't matter. Ignore all that and focus on not cutting up your sweater, yeah? I like the red on you.”

“That's why I picked it out.” James answered honestly, and Tony's dark eyes sparked in interest. “Knew you liked the red and figured if you were gonna dress up, maybe I should dress up a little too?”

“I don't know if I'm necessarily dressed up.” Tony picked at the hem of his suit jacket. “The monkey suit is standard outfit for CEO's of multi billion dollar--”

“Former CEO, darling!” Pepper called and Tony grinned, “ --former CEO's of multi billion dollar companies. I wouldn't be wearing this at all if I thought Pep would let me wear my sneakers and ACDC shirt. Only upside of this thing is that I can spill cotton candy on my shirt all day and then button the jacket and no one would know any better.”

“Cotton candy?” Oh James remembered that, he knew he did. Overly sweet and pastel colored, sugar-grit teeth and sticky fingers. Eating a big piece of it and then passing some over to St—to St--

--migraine. Instant and blinding--

--passing it over to someone who would get sick after eating only a few bites, so James would toss it in the trash and pretend to have a stomach ache too so they wouldn't feel bad.

Shit his head hurt, but James got a glimpse of dark blue eyes and a stubborn smile before the memory faded away to nothing, and when he opened his eyes again Tony was watching him closely.

“Where'd you go?” Tony asked quietly, and James whispered just as quietly, “I don't... don't really know. You said cotton candy and I got a flash of something... I dunno.”

“Things are coming back to you?”

“I'm not sure.” James leaned forward in the seat and pushed his hand into his hair, groaning under his breath as the migraine throbbed at his temples. “Just bits and pieces is all.”

“Makes sense.” Tony reached to touch James's shoulder but stopped himself at the last second. “I mean, you getting flashes of memories right now. I'm not exactly stable but this is probably the most stable you've been in a while?”

“At least a year.”

“Right.” Again, Tony reached out to try and touch and comfort, and again he let his hand drop away. James hadn't wanted to be touched right away the last time he'd had a hard time, he probably didn't want it now. “Repressed memories have a nasty habit of showing up right when we think we're moving on, life gets low stress and suddenly our dreams get stressful. It happens.”

“Yeah? You real familiar with it?” James tried to slow his breathing down, purposefully inhaling and then forcefully exhaling until the extra oxygen erased the sparks behind his eyes. “Why's that?”

“I'm the king of repressing--”

“Christ, my head hurts. Tony, will you c'mere and sit by me?”

“--memories.” Tony waved at one of the stewardesses and tapped at his own temple so she would bring him some headache medication, then slid out of his own seat and into the one next to James, rotating so their knees touched. “Better?”

“Thank you.” James's fingers tightened in his hair. “Why are you the king of repressing memories?”

“A whole list of reasons that would only make your headache worse.” Tony hesitated, hesitated, hesitated, then finally tried to untangle James's fingers, loosening the digits one by one until James relented and relaxed, clasping Tony's hand warm in his own. “...better?”

“Thank you.” James said again, instantly feeling better now that he was holding tight to Tony instead of pulling at his own hair, the migraine easing as he quit chasing the thought about cotton candy and forced himself back to the moment. “Sorry. Trying to force the memories--”

“--gives you a headache.” Tony finished and James smiled the tiniest bit cos Tony was completing his sentences just like Pepper did. “Yeah been there, done that.”

“Don't wanna ruin tonight by having a headache.” James muttered apologetically. “Sorry, Tony.”

“Tonight hasn't even started.” Tony waved the apology off, squeezed at James's hand and then let go. “Don't worry about it. We'll both have headaches by the time we get through the noise and crowds at the Expo, it's fine.”

“Okay.” James sort of hated that Tony had let go of his hand, but he didn't comment, only smoothed his hair back where it'd come free from the messy bun and cleared his throat. “How far out are we?”

“About an hour.” Tony didn't go back to his own chair, and James nudged at his knee gratefully. “How much news do you watch, James?”

“Um.” James blinked, thrown by the abrupt topic change. “None?”

“None.” Tony repeated. “At all?”

“Don't watch TV unless you're making me watch some god-awful movie.” James admitted and Tony's smile flashed quick and pleased. “Why?”

“I've been on the news a lot lately.” Tony hedged. “Just uh-- just curious if you'd seen anything I needed to explain or apologize for maybe?”

“Apologize?”

“Like if you learned about my weird sunglasses collection or that I eat everything with a three tined fork instead of a four tined like a normal person.” Tony suggested, and James's shoulders shook with quiet laughter. “The press knows a lot about me and you don't really know much about me so...”

He let the sentence trail off, watching closely for anything like recognition on James's face. The downside of a migraine of course, was that it hurt to even breathe. The upside of a migraine was that it was impossible to hide even the smallest reactions when your head felt like it might explode and Tony didn't really want to use it as a way to get a glimpse at James's thoughts, but he did it anyway because he wanted to know.

Truth be told, Tony was starting to wonder just how long he could keep Iron Man quiet from James before it slid from 'need to know basis' towards 'you were lying to me' accusations. If James hadn't figured out that Tony was the same Tony Stark that was also Iron Man, Tony didn't really want to say anything. But if James had figured it out and was just staying quiet for privacy's sake... well Tony didn't want to let it go too long just in case the soldier started to think Tony was leaving him out of things.

So Tony asked again, “Heard anything about me lately?”

“Everything I want to know about you I learn when we're together like this.” James answered, and with a smile that had no business being both shy and almost unbearably hopeful, “And I like all of it so far.”

Tony flushed a surprised pink, and up near the front of the plane, Pepper just rolled her eyes when she caught it.

Idiot boys practically in love.

Sheesh.

***************

***************

“I've had a lot of people ask me where the dancers are this time around.” Tony stood up on stage in front of the thousands of people who had come to the Expo tonight, alone except for the old fashioned microphone he held in one hand. “I know, I know, you were hoping for more explosions, more fireworks, definitely some more bikinis and high kicks, right?”

The crowd tittered in agreement and Tony's mouth ticked up in a quick smile. “Yeah, we all love that, we all love science when it’s accompanied by pretty girls and loud music. Here's the thing about science though. Science isn't always big leap forward in technology, it's not always flashy designs and world changing breakthroughs and Nobel prizes. Most of the time science is quiet.”

Appropriately, Tony paused for a breath and the audience held theirs in anticipation.

“Most of the time science is still.” he said even softer, and the crowd edged forward with wide eyes, sure that this was all just build up to something incredible. “Most of the time science is one little adjustment that somehow changes life as we know it and maybe not even as we know it, but changes life as one person knows it and sometimes, that's enough.”

Tony held up the microphone and the cameras zoomed in on it. “This is the same microphone my Dad used at the World's Fair Expo back in World War II. Well--” another one of those quick smiles. “--it's not exactly the same microphone, but it's an exact working replica with exactly the sort of tech upgrades you would expect from Stark Industries. Why does that matter, though? Why do any of you care about me getting weirdly sentimental about a copy of a microphone my Dad once spit all over?”

The audience laughed again and Tony swallowed past the lump in his throat. “It matters because it's only in looking to the past that we find answers for our future. What were once ground breaking theories are today the building blocks our of standard operations. All the pieces that make up my next generation Stark phone started out in something as simple as this mic right here.”

Tony held up the microphone again. “Seventy years ago, my dad stood on a stage just like this one and bragged about a flying car that only got a few inches off the ground. What he considered a spectacular failure was actually the inspiration for my Stark repulsor engines that will revolutionize the fuel industry and put an end to oil spills and dumps in the most fragile parts of our eco systems.”

“The past teaches us how to move forward, what steps to avoid and which leaps to take and we can't forget that. That's why I re-started the Expo-- learning from looking back before we move forward and that's what science is about.”

A smattering of applause and Tony waited until it died down. “Science isn't always flashy.” He said again. “Most of the time it's quiet. But even the quiet discoveries matter, whether they become something that changes the world later on, or never do anything more significant than what this microphone does right here--”

Tony paused, smiled, “--connects us to people we love.”

The lights dimmed and Tony set the modified microphone down on the stage, pressed a few buttons and stepped away as it split into pieces and assembled itself into something of a tripod. The microphone-turned-robot rotated its speaker to face the audience, a separate projector unhinged from the back and--

--”Hey Ma.” A young soldier clearly somewhere sandy, waving at the audience from the holographic screen the microphone had projected above the crowd. “I hope you're having a good time out there tonight, I love you and I miss you and I'll be home soon.”

“This message is for my brother!” Another soldier head to toe in combat gear, grinning into the camera. “Mr. Stark said he'd get you a ticket to the Expo tonight so I hope you showed up! This message is coming to you from way the fuck over in Sand Dune Country and I love you, but I'm glad you're home safe with my new niece-y instead of slogging through this mess with me. Be home soon!”

The messages kept rolling, and one by one different people in the audience burst into tear and cheers as they saw their deployed loved one up on the screen for a surprise message. It had taken months to coordinate-- sending out Stark phones to the soldiers to submit a video, getting tickets to their family and making sure they had a ride to the Expo and a place to stay-- months to coordinate, and Tony stood back behind the curtain of the stage and listened to them play as he looked down at the picture of him and the soldier in the convoy in Afghanistan.

Despite Tony's only half serious warning to the soldier back then, the picture had been promptly posted on social media and now Tony was grateful for it. Three minutes after the picture had been taken the convoy had been attacked and all those young people-- all those kids had been lost.

“Hey Mom, Dad. Sorry I missed your anniversary but I'll be back for Christmas and will make it up in hugs then!”

Tony closed his phone and cleared his throat as the audience burst into shouts when a local boy from Flushing popped up on the screen with his message. Speech was done, crowd was appropriately wowed and now he had a sort of date with James to get back to.

It wasn’t the time to get maudlin and teary, not tonight.

“Tony.” Pepper looked immensely proud, and Tony tore his eyes away from the almost blinding smile on James's face to accept a kiss from her. “Well done. I really thought you were going to bring out the dancers again, and I'm so glad you didn't.”

“It pains me to admit that no science has been accomplished when booty shorts and high heels were in the general vicinity.” Tony said faux seriously. “The dancers were a necessary sacrifice for the moment.”

“Well I appreciate it.” Pepper chuckled and kissed him one more time. “I have to network since apparently everyone wants to talk to the new CEO--”

“--and I have cotton candy to buy and experiment booths to check out.” Tony finished, cutting Pepper off before she could suggest he go along with her. “Toodle-oo and all that. Have fun.”

The moment Pepper disappeared into the crowd, Tony turned back to James, hands in his pockets and rocking back on his heels as he asked, “So. How did I do? Can I color you impressed?”

“You can color me whatever you want, Tony.” James grinned and Tony barked a surprised laugh at the blatant flirting. “Was a good speech, but I think it’s the first time I’ve ever heard you really talk about your dad. Were you and him close?”

“Not even a little bit.” Tony shook his head, then motioned for James to follow him to the outer paths of the Expo so they could walk the perimeter where it was a little quieter. “He was always busy working and I was always busy being as obnoxious as possible. He and Ma were gone before I was old enough to realize what I was missing out on so--” Tony shrugged like the memory of that last night with his parents still didn't hurt like a knife in his heart. “--anyway. This whole Expo was his idea, he brought it back in the seventies, always wanted to do it again so I thought now was as good a time as any.”

“Huh.” James looked down at where their hands were nearly touching as they walked, wondering if he could just grab Tony's hand and hold it for a little bit, wondering if that was okay outside of either of them having a panic attack.“You said something about a flying car?”

“Back in the forties, my Dad wanted to show off this flying car idea, so he brought it to the Worlds Fair.” Tony flashed a peace sign at a girl when she squealed and pointed at him in excitement. “Howard's always considered it his great embarrassment, to have created something that failed in the public eye but you know-- it's been seventy something years and we still haven't gotten any closer to flying cars? Even his failure was a good century ahead of it's time.”

“Your Dad's name was Howard? Howard Stark?” That sounded familiar in some empty aching way, but James forgot about it when he stopped in front of what looked like an old timey war advertisement for the draft, pictures in black and white of soldiers marching off in neat lines. It made his head hurt the same way memories always did and he blinked at the display a few times. “What's this?”

“Traditionally the World's Fair and Expo were events to drum up that All American spirit.” Tony tapped the vintage posters and mocked one of the old radio voices, “Look at how great our country is doing with these advancements! Look how much money we have to put this show on! Don't you feel patriotic? Don't wait for the draft, real American men sign up willingly for their country!”

“People could sign up for the army right here at the fair.” Ouch that drummed at the back of James's mind, and when he caught a flash of shaggy blonde hair out of the corner of his eye, the drumming got worse. “They did that?”

“All the time.” Tony scoffed like he couldn't believe it. “Just boys too, kids really. Came for the party, left for the cause. Mind boggling. We don't do that here, no way. I'd never ask people to show up for cotton candy and then hope they join the war effort, that's nuts. But they did back in the day and the boys that went off to war-- “

He sighed out loud. “Well you know. They don't always come back whole. So this is a nice reference to days gone by, little bit of nostalgia, a way to remember them I guess. Besides, America's greatest hero signed up for the war effort at one of these things, it would be a shame to just ignore it I think.”

“Huh.” James didn't want another headache like the one he'd had on the plane so he stepped away from the Army display and towards a cotton candy vendor. “Time for sweets?”

“Oh, it is always time for sweets.”

*******************

*******************

It was easy to get lost in the Expo, easy and more fun than either man had had in ages wandering from booth to booth and taking the circular paths between the connected sections to sample all the different foods, resting on the grass and beneath the planted trees when their feet got tired, browsing through the vendors shops and trying their hand at any scientific demonstration that took volunteers.

James was fascinated by everything from the wireless electronics to the slime that exploded all over them when he added too much of whatever was in the purple beaker. The soldier laughed until he nearly choked seeing Tony with neon green slime in his perfectly combed hair, and was still laughing when Tony dragged him to a demonstration that had a ball and a fancy light and zapped James with enough electricity to make his scruff stand right up on his chin.

“I love roller coasters!” James announced at one point because somehow he knew that was true but Tony begged off the ride with a hand over his arc reactor an apologetic smile so instead they climbed into one of the rowboats at the man made lake and rowed across it to see all the different water experiments-- artificial plant life that would help sustain life in otherwise barren bodies of water, hybrid fish that grew bigger than their predecessors but took less time to mature for a faster food source, personal purification processes that only needed a mild current to activate the device and provide clean drinking water.

After the lake was a sphere that simulated life on a distant planet and James took one look at it and shook his head, digging his feet in figuratively and literally as Tony tugged at his arm and pleaded, “Don't you want to know what it would be like to live on Mars!?” and retorting, “Tony, m'still trying to figure out Earth!”

A display that required goggles and gloves as scientists replicated the creation of new elements, some that synthesized with nothing more than a quiet hiss, some that exploded loud enough to make James grab Tony and turn around, trying to shield the smaller brunette with his body. Tony laughed at him then, laughed and then checked that James was okay and not triggered by it, laughed and then blushed a little when James's arm lingered at his waist just a second longer than necessary.

“Elements are the building blocks of the universe.” James read on a sign after reluctantly letting Tony go. “So this is what everything is made of.”

“Everything.” Tony confirmed.

“So how do they make new ones?”

“Apparently with a bang.” Tony said wryly and James grinned sheepishly. 

“Have you made one in that fancy lab?”

“I've never even tried.” Tony admitted after a minute of thought. “I sort of remember Dad talking about making a new one ages ago, he had designs and diagrams for it but I must have only been eight or nine, I barely remember it. I bet his notes are around somewhere in all the boxes Pepper won't let me throw away.”

“Why haven't you tried?” James looked back at the display when another element went bang! and someone else screamed. “Bet you're smart enough to do it.”

“I'm smart enough.” Tony agreed, wrinkling his nose into a smile when James huffed at him teasingly. “But I've been busy, got all these other projects going on and all of them seem more important than creating new building blocks for the universe. That's like designing a new Lego. It's great and all, but who cares? There’s enough of them out there, why do we need another?” 

“Lego.” James repeated. “What--”

“I've got millions of them in storage at Malibu, we'll pull them out one day and I'll show you why I hold the MIT record for fastest recorded time building an entire Death Star model.”

“Half those words don't mean anything to me, Tony.” James admitted, tone just a little clipped in frustration. “Sorry.”

“You don't have to apologize for what you're missing.” Tony waved him off and James pointed out, “Happy said that exact same thing to me.”

“He's said the exact same thing to me many times.” They passed a knife display, and Tony pointed one out to James that was somehow even fancier than the one in the store had been. “Except when I black out drunk, then he yells at me for what I miss. He's right to do it, too. How about that knife? You like that one?” 

“Too pretty to kill someone with.” James said bluntly, and when Tony's jaw dropped open in shock, he apologized, “Ah hell, sorry. Dunno why I said that.”

“Christ you're intense.” Tony only laughed though, and pushed James on from the display. “Maybe we don't say things like that in the middle of a crowd. Maybe we just get some more cotton candy.”

“Probably a good idea.” James felt foolish for blurting out the killing thing, foolish and embarrassed as hell but it was so easy to speak his thoughts around Tony, that one had just... slipped out. 

Usually James thought about what he wanted to say, turned it over in his mind until he felt like it sounded normal, weighed his words and modulated his tone and then spoke, but he didn't have to do that with Tony. He didn't even have to pretend to be okay around Tony, he could just be James and all the broken pieces and panic attacks and saying the wrong thing at the wrong time and then maybe sometimes saying the wrong thing at the right time cos Tony would smile up at him sort of like he was doing right now--

--oh shit, he hadn't been listening.

“Lost you for a minute.” Tony never said it like he was judging James, only ever like he knew what it was like to get lost in his head and maybe be a little afraid of never finding his way out again. “Where'd you go?”

“Was thinkin' bout ya.” The words slipped out soft and a little lyrical, the voice in James's head that Tony said sounded Brooklyn speaking up enough to be smooth and charming. “How it's um-- how it's so easy to be with you.”

“Yeah, I'm a real catch.” Tony sassed immediately, but his smile was just for James when he continued, “You're easy to be around too. Not what I expected when I invaded your booth at the diner for the sake of awkward conversation and what definitely sounded like a proposition.”

“Were you propositionin' me, sugar?” James asked, low and coaxing and surprising because he hadn't meant to call Tony sugar, hadn't meant to turn the conversation this way but now Tony was staring up at him with stars in his eyes and sort of leaning forward and hell, James didn't remember much of anything at all but he knew what this moment meant so he leaned forward too and--

“Oh Jesus, not right here.” Tony jerked back a step, both hands up and expression going guarded even as he tried to laugh the moment off. “No, um-- no. That's not--”

Shit. “Shit, sorry.” James backed up too, face flaming and heart clenching in his chest. “Sorry, Tony I just thought-- I mean you were lookin' at me like that and I thought you wanted--”

“No, you don't have to say sorry, that's not your fault, I should have--” Tony looked like he was sort of panicking, a hand at his chest and another held up so James wouldn't get closer. “Damn it. This-- this just got really awkward.”

“Tony, I'm sorry.”

“Nope. My fault for making you think--” Tony's throat jerked as he swallowed.  Hello insecurities from twenty fives years in the closet. “-- it's fine, James. It's fine. Let's just keep walking. There's still a lot to see and I want you to see it all so let's just--” another hard swallow. “Let's just keep walking.”

“Um. Sure.” James fell back into step next to Tony, and after a minute the brunette started talking again, chattering about whatever they were passing, telling a story about something he and Rhodey did one time or another, and after another few minutes James relaxed enough to even laugh a little at the stories.

But the moment from before was gone, the easy smiles and the quick laughter, the way their hands had brushed once, twice, three times as they wandered the paths.

That moment was gone and James felt it's absence like a slap in the face.

He really couldn't trust his mind could he? Not even in this, not even when he was one hundred percent sure Tony had wanted a kiss.

Couldn't trust his mind even with things that should come natural, cos findin’ a fella and wanting to kiss him-- that should come real natural right?

....Right?

Christ, he was broken.

****************

****************

“Ms. Potts, you asked me to find as much information as possible on James?” Natalie found Pepper out on the balcony of the hotel room, overlooking the lights of the Expo in the adjoining field. “I'm afraid I wasn't able to find much.”

“Alright then.” Pepper was halfway through her first drink of the night, weary lines creased at the corner of her eyes. “Tell me what you found anyway.”

“The diner where Mr. Stark and James met was apparently an every day spot for James.” Natalie rattled off the information she'd learned in short, quick sentences. “Waitresses say he was polite but quiet. He glared at anyone who messed with them so they always let him stay longer than anyone else. They identified the shelter down the block as one where James slept, I spoke to the church folk who run the shelter and they said he was quiet and polite as well. Has no or little memories of anything past a year ago, has never showed any signs of violence or even a temper and they have no idea what happened to his arm beyond knowing he used to be a soldier.”

“Okay well.” Pepper pursed her lips and blew out a breath. “Anyone that would keep waitresses from being harassed and could survive a year in a shelter without losing their temper couldn't be all that bad. Why do you look so worried about him?”

“Not worried.” Natalie smoothed the anxious from her expression. The news about James was so opposite of who she knew 'James' was that it was giving her a headache, but she ignored it to smile at her employer. “Not worried at all, Ms. Potts. Simply wondering if we should add James to the insurance plan if he's going to spend time with Mr. Stark in the lab or even traveling with us.”

“Of course, that's an excellent idea, see that it gets done.”

“Yes, Ms. Potts. Will there be anything else?”

“Have you booked our flights to Monaco?” Pepper poured herself a second drink and picked up her phone to scroll through the dozens of congratulatory emails still rolling in from various shareholders and board members. “Add a seat for James, I think he will most likely be going along with Tony anywhere at this point.”

“Do you think...” Natalie hesitated. “Are they involved?”

“Would that offend you in any way, Natalie?” Pepper arched a graceful eyebrow towards her new assistant. “Because if so, you are welcome to tell me why and then to pack your things and leave immediately because I won't tolerate--”

“Ms. Potts.” Natalie held her hand up and shook her head. “I was simply wondering for reasons of hotel rooms. I am the last person to have any sort of issue with whether or not Mr. Stark prefers his dates as blessed as I am--” a pat at her chest and Pepper snorted a laugh. “--or as blessed as James is.”

Pepper laughed even harder, “Well then, by all means book us four rooms. Two adjoining for you and I, two adjoining for Tony and James. I'm not sure if they will share or not and to be honest, I'd rather not know. I like to think as CEO my days of knowing the status of Tony's bed partners are behind me.”

“Of course, Ms. Potts.” Natalie smiled. “Enjoy the rest of your evening.”

“'You too Natalie, thank you.”

Pepper went back to sipping at her drink and idly reading emails and when the exhaustion of the day finally caught up to her, she turned in for the night. Her calendar was so full these days and she was so tired and oh Lord, the sun would be up in just a few hours and she’d have to start another day all over again...

... ...

... ...

...On the other side of the world the sun was coming up, brilliant and beautiful over the skyline of Monaco and at the international airport, it was time for a shift change as the night workers called their goodbyes and switched spots with the early morning crew.  

The young man at the counter had only barely clocked in when the doors opened and a line of international passengers flooded the terminals. Checking passports was easy enough so long as the passengers had their papers in order, and he went through two dozen entries before any one passport caught his eye and tripped the computer's marker.

“Oh, this should just take a second to double check, sorry about that Mr.--” he paused when he saw the myriad of tattoos on the man, the bedraggled black and white hair, gold teeth glinting back at him. “Uh, is it Vanko? What um-- what brings you to Monaco?”

“I'm working at the Grand Prix.” came the gravelly answer, a smile that was somehow savage stretching the man's lips. “Hoping to catch up with an old friend.”

“Oh.” the computer okay'ed the passport, so the attendant handed it back quickly. “Well um-- welcome to Monaco. I hope you enjoy your stay.”

“I plan to.”

*****************

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