ms-znodgrass

[ms-znodgrass]

No Chemistry in Biology

In which the reader experiences her first, rather short encounter with Otis since the party. 

Word count: 940 (sorry its short)

A/N: A part 3 to Sweeter than Cake. This is more of a filler part, I’ll be submitting the next part withing the next few days! PS: I haven’t proofread, churned this one out pretty quick. xo

(not my gif)

You sit down in Biology class and throw your books onto the table before you. You’d spent the past week being ignored, avoided and downright angry. It had been just under a week since you’d spoken to Otis, actually, it had been a week since Otis had spoken to you. You’d tried on several occasions to muster a ‘hello’, but Otis had sped away from you before you could even open your mouth. At lunchtimes, he was nowhere to be seen, after school he had cycled home before you’d even left the classroom.

Eric and Maeve were awkwardly in the middle of the situation, both not sure on what to do. Though one thing was for sure, they were both pissed at how he was treating you. They had both attempted to confront Otis about his behaviour on multiple occasions, but every time your name was mentioned the conversation was shut down and the topic changed.

Supposedly Otis was still pursuing his relationship with Ola, though you wouldn’t know considering not a single word was shared between you two. And though Eric and Maeve had spoken to him on a few occasions, he never shed light on his current relationship status.

Words couldn’t express your hurt. You were angry one minute, heartbroken the next. You didn’t know what was going on in your best friends’ life, and vice versa – many o your own tears had been shed over that fact.

You’re drawn from your daydream when Otis enters, and you both share a look. Its short lived, but it’s enough to pull your heart up to your throat. You blink away the fresh set of tears that build up in your eyes and open your book. He hastily walks to his designated seat, which happens to be the one in front of yours.

The lessons drags by slowly, each second seeming to pass even more sluggishly than the last. The rain tapping on the window is far more entertaining than the lesson unravelling before you. You were so absorbed in the weather – an incredibly boring concept – that you hadn’t noticed Maeve throwing pieces of paper at your head.

“Did you just hear that?” Maeve whispers, her concerned voice silenced a little by the sound of the video playing to the class. You shake your head, you hadn’t heard anything for the last twenty minutes. You were too focused on your thoughts.

“The project that is due tomorrow? Have you started?” She asks, chewing at the bubble-gum in her mouth.

“Project?” You ask, searching through your mind for any recollection of a biology project.

“The one on rivers. Weren’t you paired with Otis?” She asks, looking towards him. Shit. You remembered. The project you’d both agreed to do together. As a team. Together. The fact that you hadn’t started – because you’d forgotten all about it – was daunting now. You hadn’t spoken to each other for days and now you’d need to get together to complete a project due in less than 24 hours. You gulp.

“Do you reckon we could swap? Who are you paired with?” You ask her, biting at your nails.

“Jackson,” she tells you. And as soon as his name leaves her mouth you know she’s in no fit position to offer you a deal. She’s pretty smitten on this one. You look at her and sigh. “You know I’d do anything for you but I-“

“I don’t expect you to give up sexy Jackson,” you mumble. She laughs then, punching your arm lightly.

“Look, maybe this is a good thing. Maybe this is an opportunity,” she raises an eyebrow, resting on the back of your chair. Suddenly the clip is switched off and the teachers voice cuts through the air.

“So as I said, I want the projects completed for tomorrow mornings lesson. No excuses. No tears. No project? No grade.” He turns to the papers on his desk, stuffs them into his bag and leaves the classroom, yelling out “class dismissed” as he leaves.

You sit in your seat for a minute, waiting for Otis to turn to you. But when he begins to leave the classroom, you stand up. “Screw this,” you say to Maeve, rushing out of the classroom after him.

“Otis!” You yell, swerving through the crowd, hot on his trail. He continues walking, not slowly down, nor speeding up. Soon he’s at his locker, throwing some books inside and slamming it shut. It gives you an opportunity to close the distance between you and him, and you reach out for his arm.

He turns to face you, his blue eyes seemingly less vibrant, and his skin even more pale than normal. He looks exhausted. “We need to do this project,” you tell him, tone softer than you’d hoped. He sighs.

“I know. Look, I can do it tonight its fine.”

“No. It’s a joint effort,” you tell him. He blinks once, opens his mouth to say something yet nothing comes out. Instead he just stares at you. “Hello? Are you really not going to say anything?” Your voice raises a little now, not that you’d meant for it to.

“What do you want me to say?”

You don’t know how to react, anger clouds your vision and soon you just see red. You take a deep breath, calming yourself so that you begin to think rationally. After a moment passes, you look back up at him. “I’ll be at your house at six, you better order pizza.”

You don’t give him time to respond, instead you turn on your heel and begin your walk home, counting the minutes until six o’clock arrives.

tags: @ginnygrint @tonypetersteve @ladydragonpurplefire @mavencalorers @dreamer7black @professionalphangirluniverse @internetgremlin @alexandrathegreat3 @streetghostfighter07 @that-girl-named-alex @bethanystan @pandazlazykid @lovingmaximoff @saritaobrien @kawaiialicee

part 1: https://ms-znodgrass.tumblr.com/post/182357384907/sweeter-than-cake

part 2: https://ms-znodgrass.tumblr.com/post/182384267317/crossing-the-yellow-line

[ms-znodgrass]

Somewhere Warm

In which the reader proposes a well deserved vacation. [Bucky x reader, Platonic!Steve x reader]

requested prompt: “Hiiiiiii could you a Stucky x reader fix it after endgame where Steve comes back and like everything is mostly fine and they figure out how to go on with their lives??”

thank you for the request, requests are still open! [not my gif]

The entire woodland area was tinted orange, the trees in the distances now silhouettes against a sunset canvas. The cool air was overshadowed by a warm fuzz inflicted on your skin as a result of the hot summer night.

You pushed your feet back and forth, swinging the hanging porch chair lightly. You were content, in the midst of everything, you were content. It had been months since Tony’s funeral, and though you still grieved the loss of your Avengers family you knew you had to live each day as though you would if they were still here. For them. You had to live to ensure their deaths were for something.

“Hey,” Bucky says, appearing at the door. “Dinner will be served soon.”

He steps towards you, sitting in the empty space by your side. You didn’t notice he was holding a blanket until he wrapped it around your shoulders. “Thank you,” you mumble, taking his hand in yours. You rest you head on his shoulder, placing your free hand on his arm. You craved the touch of his skin always, you had since the day you met.

“Right so you’re the secret weapon, of sorts. The others don’t know you exist, and personally apologise on behalf of Tony that your introduction won’t necessarily be friendly,” the Black Widow says as you walk out into the empty airport runway. “Oh, and I’m Natasha,” she smiles, “I’ve heard you’re good.”

“Likewise.” She pats your arm lightly, before running ahead to Tony. An overwhelming wave f nerves washes over you, and you have to remind yourself that this is just a friendly fight a civil war. Surely death is not on the cards.

“So you’re new to this too?” A voice asks you, and you turn to be faced with a young boy dressed in a blue and red suit.

“Using me messed up DNA to fight another group of superheroes? This is a normal day for me,” you wink. “I’m Y/N,” you smile, reaching an arm out to shake the boys’ hand.

“Peter,” he replies, “but people call me Spiderman when I’m all… webbed up.”

“You’re the Spider kid from Queens? I’ve seen videos of you swinging about, it’s cool.”

“Gee thanks, I didn’t realise people actually saw those.” He looks genuinely shocked and it’s quite sweet.  

“Hey, in my books, you’re famous.”

“So, what’s your thing?”

“Underoos!” You hear Tony yell, guessing that’s Peter’s cue to shoot off.

“You’ll see,” you tell him, nodding for him to go ahead.

The two teams are lined up, Tony Stark faces his comrade, Captain America. The runway acts as a stage for you to begin your play, yet the curtains have not yet come up.

You walk from behind, appearing next to Natasha. All eyes land on you, and you sheepishly wave. “I’ve brought some reinforcements too,” Tony calls out. Within seconds you begin running towards each other, beginning the battle. You hold yourself well, using your invisibility to confuse your opponent. Your fighting skills come in handy too, though you can’t help but think that there’s surely another way to settle the disagreement, rather than turning on each other.

You look across to see Peter fighting, and struggling, with some guy who you hadn’t recognised. You run across to him, only revealing yourself to punch the guy battling with him. You attempt to strike again, only to have your fist caught before you could strike.

You look into the blue eyes of Bucky Barnes, though at that time you had no idea who he was. He smiles at you, his grip around your hand loosening, and so you take the opportunity to strike again. This time, he falls.

“I think we should go away somewhere, finally see the world. Maybe somewhere hot? White beaches, clear waters, bring the others along too? I think we all need it,” you propose. He places a finger under your chin, lifting your head to face him. His blue eyes search your features and you take the opportunity to do the same.

Though he has lived throughout the ages, his eyes ae still youthful, filled with ambition to see more, do more. His mouth perks up, a smile settled comfortably on his face. The stubble on his chin suits him, enhancing his jawline – the jawline that was so sharp it could kill. You run your fingers along his cheek, to his mouth.

“I’ll go anywhere with you, I’ll follow you to the next galaxy.”

“I’m sure we can get some good recommendations,” you grin, kissing him lightly.

“Am I interrupting?”

Steve’s voice breaks through the air, startling you both. “Sorry, I didn’t mean to scare you lovebirds,” he laughs, walking across so that he was stood opposite you, resting against the wooden railings encompassing the house.

“We were just talking about going on holiday somewhere. Tell me, Bali or planet Tessregon?”

“Apparently the suns on Tessregon are a sight to behold,” he replies, raising an eyebrow. “How comes you guys are jetting off?”

“We just think we’ve earned a break, you know, after saving the world. You’re coming too, obviously,” you wink, “I can’t separate Stucky, can I?”

“I knew it’d catch on,” Bucky chuckles from beside you, high-fiving his oldest pal in the world.

“Sorry Y/N, nothing can top our connection,” Steve smirks, sending a cheeky grin your way. You shrug.

“I knew what I was signing up for,” you tell him, standing up and pulling Bucky up with you. “Now, how abut we continue our holiday planning over dinner?”

requests are open 

[ms-znodgrass]

Somewhere Warm

In which the reader proposes a well deserved vacation. [Bucky x reader, Platonic!Steve x reader]

prompt from @beautiful-little-fool1 : “Hiiiiiii could you a Stucky x reader fix it after endgame where Steve comes back and like everything is mostly fine and they figure out how to go on with their lives??”

thank you for the request, requests are still open! [not my gif]

The entire woodland area was tinted orange, the trees in the distances now silhouettes against a sunset canvas. The cool air was overshadowed by a warm fuzz inflicted on your skin as a result of the hot summer night.

You pushed your feet back and forth, swinging the hanging porch chair lightly. You were content, in the midst of everything, you were content. It had been months since Tony’s funeral, and though you still grieved the loss of your Avengers family you knew you had to live each day as though you would if they were still here. For them. You had to live to ensure their deaths were for something.

“Hey,” Bucky says, appearing at the door. “Dinner will be served soon.”

He steps towards you, sitting in the empty space by your side. You didn’t notice he was holding a blanket until he wrapped it around your shoulders. “Thank you,” you mumble, taking his hand in yours. You rest you head on his shoulder, placing your free hand on his arm. You craved the touch of his skin always, you had since the day you met.

 “Right so you’re the secret weapon, of sorts. The others don’t know you exist, and personally apologise on behalf of Tony that your introduction won’t necessarily be friendly,” the Black Widow says as you walk out into the empty airport runway. “Oh, and I’m Natasha,” she smiles, “I’ve heard you’re good.”

“Likewise.” She pats your arm lightly, before running ahead to Tony. An overwhelming wave f nerves washes over you, and you have to remind yourself that this is just a friendly fight a civil war. Surely death is not on the cards.

“So you’re new to this too?” A voice asks you, and you turn to be faced with a young boy dressed in a blue and red suit.

“Using me messed up DNA to fight another group of superheroes? This is a normal day for me,” you wink. “I’m Y/N,” you smile, reaching an arm out to shake the boys’ hand.

“Peter,” he replies, “but people call me Spiderman when I’m all… webbed up.”

“You’re the Spider kid from Queens? I’ve seen videos of you swinging about, it’s cool.”

“Gee thanks, I didn’t realise people actually saw those.” He looks genuinely shocked and it’s quite sweet.  

“Hey, in my books, you’re famous.”

“So, what’s your thing?”

“Underoos!” You hear Tony yell, guessing that’s Peter’s cue to shoot off.

“You’ll see,” you tell him, nodding for him to go ahead.

The two teams are lined up, Tony Stark faces his comrade, Captain America. The runway acts as a stage for you to begin your play, yet the curtains have not yet come up.

You walk from behind, appearing next to Natasha. All eyes land on you, and you sheepishly wave. “I’ve brought some reinforcements too,” Tony calls out. Within seconds you begin running towards each other, beginning the battle. You hold yourself well, using your invisibility to confuse your opponent. Your fighting skills come in handy too, though you can’t help but think that there’s surely another way to settle the disagreement, rather than turning on each other.

You look across to see Peter fighting, and struggling, with some guy who you hadn’t recognised. You run across to him, only revealing yourself to punch the guy battling with him. You attempt to strike again, only to have your fist caught before you could strike.

You look into the blue eyes of Bucky Barnes, though at that time you had no idea who he was. He smiles at you, his grip around your hand loosening, and so you take the opportunity to strike again. This time, he falls.

 “I think we should go away somewhere, finally see the world. Maybe somewhere hot? White beaches, clear waters, bring the others along too? I think we all need it,” you propose. He places a finger under your chin, lifting your head to face him. His blue eyes search your features and you take the opportunity to do the same.

Though he has lived throughout the ages, his eyes ae still youthful, filled with ambition to see more, do more. His mouth perks up, a smile settled comfortably on his face. The stubble on his chin suits him, enhancing his jawline – the jawline that was so sharp it could kill. You run your fingers along his cheek, to his mouth.

“I’ll go anywhere with you, I’ll follow you to the next galaxy.”

“I’m sure we can get some good recommendations,” you grin, kissing him lightly.

“Am I interrupting?”

Steve’s voice breaks through the air, startling you both. “Sorry, I didn’t mean to scare you lovebirds,” he laughs, walking across so that he was stood opposite you, resting against the wooden railings encompassing the house.

“We were just talking about going on holiday somewhere. Tell me, Bali or planet Tessregon?”

“Apparently the suns on Tessregon are a sight to behold,” he replies, raising an eyebrow. “How comes you guys are jetting off?”

“We just think we’ve earned a break, you know, after saving the world. You’re coming too, obviously,” you wink, “I can’t separate Stucky, can I?”

“I knew it’d catch on,” Bucky chuckles from beside you, high-fiving his oldest pal in the world.

“Sorry Y/N, nothing can top our connection,” Steve smirks, sending a cheeky grin your way. You shrug.

“I knew what I was signing up for,” you tell him, standing up and pulling Bucky up with you. “Now, how abut we continue our holiday planning over dinner?”

[ms-znodgrass]

The Past Repeats Itself

Captain America x reader. 

In which Cap manages to repeat past mistakes with new flames. Part 2 is expected soon. Feel free to give it a share if you like it - thank you!

—

There was a cold breeze ghosting across your bare arms, forcing fine hairs to stand upright to attention. The air weaved through your curled hair, lifting it up off of your shoulders which were covered with a fine fabric. Your long dress added protection around your legs, the green silk falling from your hips to the marble floor below you. Yes, it was cold, but after the day you’d had, you couldn’t feel it. Instead you felt numb.

An entire town in the south of France had been invaded by the Klene, an uprising terrorist group which preyed on the poor. Their aim was to wipe out the Earths impurities, and that meant every man, woman and child who could not afford a decent lifestyle. They were a large threat, larger than you all first anticipated. The Avengers had met their match, this mission was not one that could be beaten in a day. This mission would consume time that you could not spare.

You had managed to remove the Klene soldiers from the town, but left behind a large trail of destruction. Houses were ruined, people had still died, and the once beautiful scenery had been destroyed. Though some families had fallen to their knees, muttering words of gratitude, others had fallen to their knees, screaming in pain as they’d witnessed a loved one murdered before their eyes.

You took another sip of the champagne in your hand, followed by another, before swallowing the entire contents of the glass. The door behind you opened, the sound of the creaking hinges disrupting the pure silence surrounding you. A figure appeared at your side, and you didn’t have to turn your head to see who it was. The familiar scent of whiskey and cinnamon wafted towards you in soft amounts, creating a warm pool in your chest.

“I can’t believe you enjoy the taste of that.”

“I have a mature taste,” Steve said, his low voice still holding power and authority, yet his tone softer. You chuckled, looking across to him. His blue eyes were still bright even in the darkness. His small mouth curled upwards slightly, perfect white teeth peeking through. His smile was contagious, almost as if he exerted an aura of happiness. A stray piece of hair fell onto his forehead, the blonde strand reflecting the moonlight. You brought your hand up to the fine golden hair and moved it backwards, weaving your fingers through the quiff which sat (now) perfectly on his head. His mouth was pressed firmly in a straight line, his eyes showing an undetectable emotion. The khaki shirt he wore was buttoned down a little, the sleeves rolled up to his elbows. Your eyes found his chest, unwilling to stare back at the blue orbs.

Steve coughed. “Are you alright? After today?”

You smiled slightly, turning back towards the city. “As alright as I can be. How about you?”

He hesitated. “It’s not a great situation. But I know we can get past it. Right now we need to keep as many people safe, as possible. We cannot allow a repeat of today. Not again,” he sighed, swirling around the whiskey in the glass, the ice hitting the sides with quiet ‘clinks’. He then looked back at you, his glare causing your cheeks to warm up and turn a pale pink colour.

“I think you did amazingly you know? Without your orders… Natasha wouldn’t be with us right now,” you murmured. Your eyes found his again.

“Anyone would’ve done the same,” he mumbled.

“No,” you said, turning to face him. He brought his hands up to your shoulders, moving your hair off of your neck, and taking the ends of the shawl which was draped around you. He wrapped the fabric tighter around your body, in a small attempt to warm you up. “You’re the only Captain I know who would sacrifice his own safety”.

“You don’t know many Captains,” he smiled.

“I don’t need to, I know you,” you grinned back. His hands were still on your arms, his breath now visible in grey clouds. You felt those clouds hit your face, his nose etching closer and closer.

“Guys! The fire dancers are here!” Tony yelled, emerging from indoors. You both stepped back, looking out towards the neon lights once more. “Oh, did I interrupt?”

You turned towards the door, walking towards him. “Where are the fire dancers?” You said as you reached his side. Tony grinned, looking at your flushed cheeks and tangled hair, his squinted.

“Near the bar.” And with that information, you found your legs carrying you towards the bar and no further. You ordered another wine, touching your hot cheeks with your cool hands in a poor attempt to restore their natural colour. Doctor Banner appeared beside you.

“Ms Y/L/N,” he said, alerting you of his presence. His curly black hair showed signs of grey, yet it suited him. You saw the reflection of the bartender returning with your large glass of wine in the reflection of his thick glasses.

“Hello,” you smiled, “can I get you a drink?”

“I’m alright actually,” he paused momentarily, “I’ll need to check on Natasha shortly. Can’t risk the green,” he mumbled. Your smile grew wider.

“Oh really?” you teased, “how is she?”

“She’s fine, just recovering from the cell manipulation. She wants to come down later, but I’ve advised against it,” he told you, turning his body towards you. You took a sip of the yellow-ish sparkling wine in your hand.

“It’s nice to know you’re looking after her.”

“I didn’t lead the procedure-“

“I’m not talking about that,” you paused, “it’s refreshing to see her happy, and I mean genuinely happy.” I noticed the corners of his mouth curling upwards, and though he tried to supress it, he couldn’t. Bruce always had time for you, and was more open to discussing private matters with you, something that built up over years of friendship.

A loud applause was heard behind you; the fire dancers were beginning their routine. “And you?” He asked, clasping his large hands together in front of him, elbow acting as a support on the bar.

“Me?”

“Is someone looking after you? I don’t intend to pry, but I’ve noticed a few… interactions between you and the Captain,” he started. You caught sight of Steve over Bruce’s left shoulder, he was mid-conversation with some elderly gentlemen. They came to every one of Starks parties, and he was always in a deep conversation with one of them – whether it be about the war or the increase in reliability of modern day hero’s on technology which ‘was a real shame’. They spoke fondly of the old days.

Your heart beat quickened, and your palms began to sweat.

“I think I’ve got a guardian somewhere,” you chuckled, your mood being lifted at the sight of Steve. Funny that. Your mood always changed around him, a smile fixing itself on your face whenever he was near, your laugh getting a little louder, and your voice getting a little higher.

“He once told me that I shouldn’t wait for anything, and that he spent a long time waiting and it was a big regret of his.”

“Peggy,” you said, earning a small nod from Bruce.

“He’s still waiting, this time not for Peggy.” You looked back at Bruce, a little taken aback. It was as if your heart was caught in your throat.

“You mean…”

He nodded again, before quickly touching your arm and disappearing behind you, you assumed to find Natasha. You took another sip, finding that your mouth had become awfully dry. You waited a minute to compose yourself before starting towards the elderly gentlemen.

“Excuse me boys,” you announced, gaining their attention.

“Well hey there little lady,” one laughed, his voice familiar.

“Hey Stan, how’s the hip?”

“Ah. It’s not so bad, I’m still young at heart,” he winked, his glasses thick, making his eyes seem bug like. He wore an old baseball hat and bomber jacket, even indoors in the heat of the Stark tower.

“Of course you are, you don’t look a day over thirty.” The group erupted into fits of laughter. “I’m looking for Steve, have any of you seen him?”

“He went over to the bar to find someone, but perhaps you wanna stay in our company?” He smirked. You rolled your eyes and laughed, kissing his cheek before leaving them to their whiskey and scotch.

The crowd was dense, bodies everywhere. Several you recognised, many recognised you, but you tried not to get caught up in conversation with anyone. Right now your main mission was finding Steve, questions regarding your powers and personal life from strangers, could come later.

You then spotted blonde hair, the perfect blonde hair, and blue eyes, and pink lips. You swallowed. He was smiling that perfect smile, the one that made your heart skip, and palms sweat and… you know the rest. As your pace picked up a little, you saw he was with someone, a woman. She had long black hair, and was reasonably short. You didn’t recognise her, but you did recognise the look in Steve’s eyes. Your smile fell a little as Thor appeared by your side.

“Y/N! What a pleasure. I’ve been surrounded by earthlings for the last hour. Ha. As if they don’t know enough about me.”

“Hi, Thor, I was just going over to-“

When you looked back at Steve his pink lips were attached to someone else’s, and everything just stopped. Your eyes looked back at Thor who had noticed your change in demeanour, and they began to fill with hot, salty tears. Your hand clamped onto Thor’s forearm, as your knees weakened a little bit. He looked behind him, seeing the same image that had ruptured your heart. “Y/N…”

“I have to go.”

You pushed past him, trying to reach the stairs. For some unfair reason, your legs weren’t quick enough, and more bodies seemed to flood the floor just as more tears were begging to fall down your rosy cheeks.

You were so focused on staring at the floor for fear that someone may see you in this horrendous, vulnerable state, that you didn’t see the hard body step infront of you. “Hey Y/N,” Steve smiled. You were surprised he could seem so happy after what he had just done.

You stared up at him, and he immediately noticed your glossy eyes. “Oh, hi Steve, enjoying your evening?” you asked, tone laced with anger.

He reached his hand out. “Y/N what’s wrong-“

“Nothing. Don’t let me take you away from your female company.” He stepped back, jaw slack in surprise.

“What do you… Oh god. That was nothing Y/N, she jumped-“

“I don’t need to listen to you Steve. Not now. Just leave me alone.” You said, pushing past him. His hand caught yours, and you felt so enraged that your grip around the wine glass in your free hand began to tighten until a large crack stretched throughout the side of it. In seconds it was nothing but shards of glass on the pristine floor below you, surrounded with the little wine that was left. A few people turned to looks at you, cautious as to what the noise could be. Their stares lingered and you noticed Thor’s eyes watching you. Immediately droids appeared around you, collecting the shards of glass from the floor and hoovering up the wine. You shook out of his grip, sending him one last look, before turning on your heels and heading for the door.

Steve knew not to follow. And he didn’t.

[ms-znodgrass]

All That’s Been

Part 2 to Fuelled by Hope! ENDGAME SPOILERS. 

In which the reader waits by Steve’s bed, waiting for him to wake up. 

A/N: thank you so much for the amazing support and comments. you’re all very sweet and made writing this even more of a pleasure!

(gif not mine)

Steve looked peaceful as he slept, his long eyelashes casting shadows on his cheeks, pink lips relaxed. It was refreshing to see him stress-free, as if he wasn’t carrying the weight of the world on his shoulders. You prayed that when he woke up, he would finally get his happy ending. Perhaps with you.

You draw small circles on the palms of his hands, playing with his fingers to pass the time. It was around midnight, a couple of hours since you’d found him. Since you’d found Steve. You couldn’t quite get over the fact that he was here, with you.

Dr Pym, Scott and Hope had arrived a few hours ago. Dr Pym had evaluated Steve’s state, to conclude he had just passed out from the stress of the timescale. Luckily, the serum in his veins allowed him to withstand strains unbearable to normal men, and so he just needed to catch up with some sleep to recuperate.

“I’m gonna turn in,” Pepper yawns behind you, a tired smile on her face. She walks towards you, placing a hand on your shoulder. “The guest bedroom is all set up for you, whenever you’re ready.”

“Somehow I think this is going to be a long night,” you chuckle, placing one hand on top of Peppers.

“I’m so glad you found him,” she tells you, pausing, “don’t let him go.” You look up at her to see her eyes glazing over.

“Pepper I-“

“No, don’t,” she half-smiles, “I know what you’re going to say.”

“But you need to hear it,” you softly whisper, “he’d be so proud of you. He loved you more than words can say.” She looks down at you, mimes a ‘thank you’, and leaves the room. She comes back around five minutes later holding a strong, hot cup of coffee. She places it on the side-table, patting your shoulder one more time before retiring to bed.

An hour or so passes, and still Steve hasn’t stirred. You feel your eyelids drooping every so often, fighting the exhaustion. “Y/N?”

You startle awake, standing and turning quickly to see Morgan sheepishly standing behind you. “I’m sorry!” She squeals.

“Don’t be silly Morgan!” You whisper, giggling a little. You sit down and prop her on your lap. “Now, why are you still awake little one?”

“I couldn’t sleep,” she yawns, gazing at Steve quizzically. “Is he dead?”

Her giggle is infectious, “why don’t you check his pulse?”

You push her onto the bed, and she places her fingers around Steve’s wrist, raising it up into the air. She waits for a few seconds, frowning. “I can’t find it,” she shrugs, letting his arm fall back onto the mattress. She falls back onto the bed, resting her head on one of the few empty pillows.

“Can you tell me a story? I can’t sleep without one,” she sighs, cuddling up to another pillow. You smile, heart swelling a little.

“Of course, what do you want it to be about? Witches or dragons or wizards?”

“Can you tell me a story about my daddy?” She asks, eyes wide and desperate. You look at her for a second before nodding.

“How about I tell you about the day I met your daddy?” You propose, and she nods excitedly, pulling the pillow closer to her chest.

“We were all called into the S.H.I.E.L.D headquarters to meet with Director Fury. There were about ten of us stood in a room no bigger than this one, waiting for Director Fury to speak. Eventually, he waltzed into the room and told us all about the Avengers initiative. Everyone there was chosen to be a part of it, a part of a group, a family. We had a sole aim to save the world and protect it from all evil. We were left to mingle with each other, when your daddy came and spoke to me.”

Morgan’s face lights up, a grin covering her features.

“He said, ‘I hear you run fast’, to which I eagerly nodded my head. I was completely star struck by your dad, I was probably his biggest fan!” You chuckle, “and he replied; ‘I know who’s going to do the coffee runs’.”

Morgan laughs at that, before covering her mouth when you remind her she’s supposed to be asleep.

“So every day, I would wake up at nine in the morning, run across town to the best coffee shop, and pick up a black coffee for your daddy. And every day at five past nine, it’d be sitting on his desk waiting for him. Eventually, I think he started feeling a bit guilty for encouraging me to run errands for him – not that I minded. So you know what he did?”

“What did he do?”

“He brought me my own Starbucks shop.” Morgan’s mouth drops, eyes widening in awe.

“So you can get me free muffins?” She asks, sitting up excitedly.

“I sure can.”

“Wow!” she pauses, trying to process the story you’d just told her, “do you have any other stories?”

You spend the next hour or so telling her of all the amazing things Tony Stark did for you, for the Avengers. An overwhelming feeling of gratitude washes over you as you remember just how much Mr Stark did for you all. It’s then replaced with a feeling of pride, Morgan was hearing new tales of her father and truly believing how spectacular he was from another point of view – and that was partially down to you. You were repaying your debts to Tony, in a beautifully nostalgic way.

Morgan’s eyelids begin to shut, and soon, she fast asleep. You decide you should put her to bed, before Pepper notices she’s gone. You take her in your arms and carry her to the next room, placing her in bed and tucking her under the duvet. Just as you’re about to leave, she stirs.

“Y/N? Will you be here tomorrow?” She asks, eyes barely open.

“Of course! We can climb trees, explore or go running if you want.”

“Yes please,” she looks at you, “I miss my daddy.”

“Oh Morgan, I miss him too,” you tell her, brushing the hair from her face. “But he’s still here with us all. We’re a family thanks to him.”

“We are?”

“Of course. The Avengers are my family and he is an Avenger. Since he’s you’re daddy, I guess you and I are kind of related.”

“Really?”

“Yeah little one.”

“I’m glad. I’m glad you’re my family,” she whispers before drifting off to sleep. You only allow yourself to cry when you know she’s dreaming, probably of Tony. You kiss her on the forehead as you leave, shutting the door behind you.

A deep breath is all you need to return to Cap’s room. You sit on the side of the bed, pulling the covers further up around his chest. “I love you,” you murmur, vision growing blurry. You look to the wall to see a hanging photo of the Avengers. It reminds you of all the fond memories you shared before the snap, before Thanos, before the stones. When Nat was still alive and well, kicking ass whilst still poking fun at Steve - much to his dismay. You’d often join in, which is one of the main reasons as to why you and she got along so well. That and you were her biggest fan.

You’re pulled out of your trance by a warm feeling around your hand. Steve rests his hand on top of yours, one eye peeking through his lashes at you. He smiles, the muscles in his face relaxing. “Hey stranger,” he croaks. You widen your eyes, laughing in shock.

“I have to get someone, I’ll be back!” You say.

“No, stay,” he mumbles. You touch his cheek lightly, the skin underneath your fingertips turns pink. “They can wait,” he adds.

He brings his free hand up to your cheek, his blue eyes looking into yours. His long fingers creep behind your neck, causing all hairs to stand to attention. He pulls you closer, so that you can feel his calm breath feathering your face. “I love you,” he murmurs, eyes flickering to your lips.

Within seconds he closes the distance between you both and his soft lips brush against yours. You pull back then, resting lightly against his chest. Another tear freely falls from your eye, but this time, Steve wipes it away with his thumb. “I’m sorry,” he whispers.

“It was never your fault, but thank you for coming back to us,” you tell him, eyes never leaving his. He chuckles a little, showing his pearly white teeth.

“I will always come home.” A few strands of blonde hair fall onto his forehead, and you push them back, kissing his forehead.

“I’ll let you sleep,” you tell him.

“Stay here tonight, please.”

You place one hand on his chest, lying on your side. Steve looks down at you, pressing his lips against the top of your head. “I never gave up on you,” you told him.

“I’m here to stay now Y/N, I promise you,” he says.

“So no more time travelling?”

“No.”

“No more flying into ice, subsequently being forced cryogenic freeze for seventy odd years?”

His chest moves as he laughs. “I’ll try not to. Are you tired?”

“Not really,” you shrug, enjoying the feel of his body against yours.

“I know what to do to pass the time,” he whispers and you can practically visualise his smirk.

“Oh?”

“How about you tell me about that Starbucks restaurant you own.”

tags:

@degeathesaviour @whatafreakingloser @heaveus @ panic-naran @lilya-petrichor @ultraher97 @crisferorav @marvelfangirl97 @angel-tears1007 @staplerrrr @lizwinchester16

[ms-znodgrass]

Fuelled by Hope

WARNING: ENDGAME SPOILERS!

In which Steve comes back after returning the infinity stones, but is soon lost again to the fabrics of space and time...

A/N: there’s been some really fab, inspiring, talented fanfics/au/imagines written about the MCU so I thought I’d contribute and try to help everyone else heal from the pain that was Endgame. (not my gif)

On the day of Tony Stark’s funeral you were not only morning the loss of Iron Man, but Captain America too. Steve Rogers was teleported back in time in the late hours of the afternoon, with one sole mission to return the infinity stones.

He was due back approximately ten seconds later, and you feared this wouldn’t be the case. You knew Steve had seen Peggy on the day you collected the stones, his eyes were foggy and dull from the moment you returned to the Avengers base. It was then that you knew, if he were to survive the war, he would return to that exact moment and live his life and he always wanted to. It was then that you lost faith in him – or more so, how you felt for him.

Still, after ten seconds he hadn’t returned. You began to pace back and forth, your mind numb to the shouts of Bruce and Sam. He wouldn’t come back. Your Steve was going to spend the rest of his days with his Peggy. And he deserved it, he deserved to live a life without sacrifice.

You began to turn, walking towards an empty wooden bench which overlooked the green lake. A perfect place to mourn the death of a life you could’ve spent with Steve Rogers.

“Steve?” You hear a voice mutter. Instantly you turn, faced with Captain America – not a single hair out of place. Your knees almost give way, and your heart lurches so far into your chest you think you might choke on it. All those memories, all those worries… faded. Steve was back from his mission, a mission you never thought would end.

He stumbles down from the metal stage below him, eyes red and skin white. You walk towards him, reaching for his arms as he almost fell onto you. “Steve are you okay?” Bruce chimes again from next to you. Sam appears at his other side, holding his body up.

Steve nods, his eyes finding yours. His cheeks return to their normal colour, pupils dilating as he inhales. “I’m fine,” he smiles, eyes ghosting over each of you. Eventually the blue orbs land on Sam. “I have something for you,” he breathes, handing him a round leather case. Inside was the shield, Cap’s shield, in perfect condition.

“How did you-“

“Long story. But it’s yours now, you deserve it,” he grins breathlessly. Sam eyes him; confused, overwhelmed, shocked, unsure whether Steve was joking.

“I can’t take this from you, I…”

Steve pushes the shield towards him, handing over its history, legacy. Sam’s fingers touch the cold leather, taking it in his grasp as if it is the most precious thing in the world – which to him, it was. You see his eyes glaze over as he takes Steve into his arms and holds him tightly.

After that you decided to give him a chance to speak to Bucky. They hadn’t had the chance to be alone, to talk of all the stories they had yet to share. After all, you had all the time in the world to speak to him, a thought which warmed you.

So you take a seat on the desolate bench, looking out over the water. The sun was just beginning to set, casting an orange glow across the sight before you. You almost forget where you were, or more importantly, who you were.

“Hi,” Steve sighs, sitting beside you. You study his face carefully, his skin was tired and worn, eyes grey and grief-struck. He was every element of a broken man, but was still as handsome as the day you met him.

“You saw her again, didn’t you?” You ask softly, careful not to break him. He lowers his head.

“Yeah. I did,” he breathes. A moment passes, silence broken by the sound of birds chirping in the distance.

“Why didn’t you stay?”

“I couldn’t. The guy that went into the ice… he wanted a family, a marriage, a dance. I’m not that same man, and I think only now, I’m beginning to accept that,” he tells you, as if each word is both hurting him yet healing him, giving him a new leash for life. “Plus, I couldn’t leave you all. Especially you.”

You take your hand in his, sitting in silence. He brings the back of your palm up to his lips, and kisses your skin ever so lightly. Your best friend, your closest companion, had made another sacrifice – his happiness for yours.  

“You shouldn’t have to give everything up, not again. You had a chance to-“

“I didn’t want to go back. The Avengers are my family now, I’m happy here. As happy as I can be.”

You place your head on his shoulder, “what do we do now?”

“We learn to live again,” he sighs his head falling onto yours, “as Tony wanted us to.”

The wind suddenly feels cool, even with the heat of Steve’s body against yours. You stand, “I’m gonna grab us a blanket, I’ll be back.”

You stand between his legs, kissing his forehead. You hold his cheeks in your hands, holding your tears back. “Thank you,” you whisper.

You rush back to your car, grabbing the blanket you kept in your backseat, and return to Steve. Using your superspeed, your there and back in less than a few seconds.

But when you return, Steve isn’t there. Impossible. You shout over to Bruce, who is disambling the equipment. “Hey Bruce, where did Steve go?”

He looks over to you, shrugging. “Hhe was with you? Was he not?”

“He was… a second ago. Have you checked the background radiation levels? Perhaps the frequency of the air particles?” You tell him, running over to his location. He looks at you, a sudden fear spreading across his face.

“Oh god.”

  Autumn was slowly dying, the trees bare, ground dusted with orange and brown crisp leaves. It had been a few months since the funeral, yet you were returning to the Stark’s country home to celebrate Thanksgiving. You often hadn’t cared for Thanksgiving, but knowing you and a few other Avengers were requested to join Pepper and Morgan for a feast, well, you couldn’t refuse.

You were driving through the country roads with Bucky and Sam, all silently admiring the sad beauty of the woodlands. Unlike a few others, you had decided to stay at the Avengers headquarters, which now was almost a cold tribute to what you had lost. Still, it allowed you to continue your research on the limitations of space and time, or more specifically, time-travel.

Sam would train often, trying desperately to shadow the moves of the former Captain America, readying himself for the day that post-war peace would become an old memory. Bucky would flitter in and out of the HQ, but always seemed to return home. Bruce on the other hand was continuing his research with Dr Pym. You often met with them to see if there were any breakthroughs on Steve’s whereabouts.

There were none.

You were lost in thought when Sam announced that you had arrived. Upon exiting the car, Morgan rushes towards you with wide arms. “Hi little one,” you smile, picking her up and spinning her around. She squeals with excitement, her arms wrapping around your neck. “You’ve grown!”

“Soon I’ll be as tall as you,” she giggles as you carry her towards the door. Pepper emerges then, a small smile gracing her features. You put Morgan down, allowing her to tackle Bucky’s metal arm.

“Hi,” you greet, hugging her tightly. She embraces you openly. “It smells brilliant in here,” you tell her, inhaling some of the sweet scents drifting through the doorway. She rolls her eyes.

“I wish I could say it was all me, but we’ve had some help,” she laughs, leading you inside.

“So your research into mechanics is going pretty well,” you grin, eyes catching the table adorned with pies, potatoes, carrots, and the biggest turkey you’ve ever seen. She sighs.

“Aside from the kitchen fire, I’d say Tony would be proud,” she nudges you, hands on her hips.

“You really think Tony’s expectations were set so high?” She laughs then, and you fear that the sound of her laughter was a rarity in this house.

“Bruce, Wanda and Thor are all in the kitchen,” she tells you, “help yourself to a drink.”

You find the others in deep conversation. All of them seem happier, as if they’ve accepted what has happened and learned to embrace it. After all, they did save the world.

“Thor! Is that you?” You chime, eyeing his much slimmer figure. He steps towards you and squeezes you.

“Ah, young Y/N, it is good to see you again.”

“You too,” you chuckle, “though if you squeeze me any tighter, it could be the end of me.” He lets you go, hand patting your head. “Been hitting the gym?” You ask.

“Yes well, my travels with the Asguardians of the Galaxy proved to be slightly more strenuous than I first thought,” he smiles, with a sweet promise to explain all after you eat. You then speak with Bruce, catching up briefly. After all, you had only seen each other a week ago when he thought he’d found a breakthrough in forbidden quantum physics.

“Wanda, how are you?”

“I’ve been good. I’ve actually decided that it might be wise to return home to you all,” she sighs. You embrace her.

“Please, it’s been long overdue. Besides, the testosterone is choking me,” you joke.

“Dinner’s ready!” Pepper chimes, and you take Wanda’s arm, both walking through to the dining room.

The meal is wonderful, the room fills with laughter and joy. Happy sits at the end of the table, and looks really… happy. He and Rhodey begin telling tales of Tony, almost reminding you all that he wasn’t there. Almost.

Then it’s Bucky’s turn, he and Sam start bouncing back with stories of Steve and Natasha. Yet you, Wanda, Bruce and Pepper can’t seem to think of anything to say, instead enjoying the stories circulating around the room – some you’d never heard before.

“Did daddy really say that to the Queen of England?” Morgan asks mid-laughter, her eyes brimming with tears. Pepper nods, in stitches herself.

“That’s why he never went back,” Rhodey chuckles, winking at Morgan. Bruce excuses himself from the table, answering a phone call and you decide it’s a good time to help Pepper with the dishes.

“Allow me, honestly Pepper, it’s what I’m built for,” you smile. Using your super speed, you run into the kitchen, cleaning and drying the dishes before Pepper can even protest.

“I don’t know why I try to object,” she sighs, as you hand her a glass of red wine.

“Now sit, and put your feet up!”

The others make their way over to the couches, each close to sleeping their meal off. You’re about to join them, when Bruce appears behind you.

“Y/N, a word?” He asks. You follow him through to the other room.

“What’s up?” You ask, leaning against the wall. He looks at you, silent for a moment. “Bruce, you okay?” You ask, sitting him down on the stairs. He takes a deep breath.

“There’s been a large burst of energy radiating from the forest,” he starts, “in the same location where we lost Steve, the exact coordinates.” You’re about to leave but he touches your arm, “we don’t know what it is, Dr Pym is on his way, I’ll go get the others so just hold on for one second-“

“You’re telling me Steve might be in the woods, possibly injured, and I need to wait for Dr Pym? Bruce, I have to go. I’ll meet you there.”

It’s darker out, the woods casting large shadows across the woodland floor. Still, you would be able to navigate yourself in pitch black. You knew these coordinates off by heart. You had often visited the clearing, whether to conduct some studies or to just think. You knew this location like the back of your hand. And for once you weren’t running from anger or frustration, you were fuelled by hope.

You appear at the bench, frantically searching the area for any sign of Steve. Yet, there was none. You could feel the energy lurking in the air, but as far as you were concerned, that was useless. You sit on the bench, awaiting Bruce’s arrival, only to report nothing. A small part of you was hopeful. But that wasn’t enough to ride on.

Another empty dream. You face the clearing, a stray tear escaping yet again. You mentally reprimand yourself, you’d promised not to cry. Not today. And yet here you were, sobbing. It was almost as if you could still feel Steve’s presence, though it was all in your head.

“Y/N?”

It was all in your head.

“Y/N?”

You stand the second time you hear your name. The voice was too realistic, it was messing with your mind. He wasn’t In front of you. He wasn’t here.

A hand on your shoulder pulls you from your thoughts, and you turn to relay the news back to Bruce. Except you’re faced with a pair of blue eyes, instead of green.

“Steve?”

“Hey,” he smiles, his legs buckling from below him. You catch him before he falls, placing him delicately on the floor. You prop his head into your lap, cradling his features. You softly run your fingers through his hair, as he blinks up at you.

“Bruce will be here soon, they’ll be able to look after you just stay awake, okay?” You tell him, brushing the stray hair from his face. He catches your hand in his, bringing your fingers to his lips. He kisses your knuckles delicately, the corners of his mouth picking up.

“I’m fine,” he says, as his eyelids close slowly. You consider leaving him for just a split second, perhaps to bring Bruce to you. But the sound of footsteps tells you to be patient. Be patient.

You kiss his forehead, continuing to comb through his blonde locks as you await for your remaining Avengers to assemble.

Part 2??

I take requests! Preferable MCU atm to fill the hole in my bleeding heart. 

[ms-znodgrass]

Oh my fucking god, I love how you write! You’re amazing, girl ♥️ And I really love your Otis x Reader one, it’s my favorite of all that I read! Part 3 soon, please? Xx

Thank you my lovely! You’re so sweet, I really appreciate these comments 💜 of course! I’ll let you know when it’s up! xo

[ms-znodgrass]

Okay but we need a part 2 of Sweeter than Cake where they talk about what happened, maybe Maeve and Eric overhear and tease them about it

i’ve just posted part 2! but will definitely incorporate more of reader x otis in part 3, hope u enjoy  - https://ms-znodgrass.tumblr.com/post/182384267317/crossing-the-yellow-line

[ms-znodgrass]

PART 2 OF THE OTIS X READER IMAGINE PLEASEEE

its up my friend - https://ms-znodgrass.tumblr.com/post/182384267317/crossing-the-yellow-line xx

[ms-znodgrass]

Crossing the Yellow Line

Part 2 to Sweeter than Cake - you can read Part 1 here: https://ms-znodgrass.tumblr.com/post/182357384907/sweeter-than-cake

Thank you to the amazing replies I received from this, they were honestly so lovely and so I decided to bang this out.  

Again, requests are open. Enjoy! (Gif cred not mine)

Following yours and Otis’ escapade on the night of his 17th birthday, you solemnly swore not to talk of it. Otis returned from his bedroom to see you attempting to clear up the living room area, you didn’t want Jean to return the following morning to a mess, and you felt as if you owed it to Otis. That, and the fact that there were was a giant elephant in the room and you were doing everything to keep yourself busy.

“Hi,” Otis mumbled softly behind you, “you don’t have to clean up.” He leaned against the doorframe, scratching at the back of his neck. You swallowed.

“It’s fine really, the table’s sticky,” you chuckled.

“Let me get a wet towel or something,” he said, shuffling out of the room before you could say anything. You breathed in, and out, and in again. The room had gotten a little more humid, something unexpected in mid-January.

You were so lost in your thoughts that you didn’t see Otis appear at your side, wiping down the table. You began picking up some cups left at the opposite end of the table. Maeve and Eric were still sleeping peacefully, much to your dismay.

“Y/N, I-“

“It’s nothing, you know, what happened. Don’t worry about me thinking any different I’m very much on the same page as you, completely, one hundred percent,” you sighed, seemingly oblivious to the cup behind your foot. You’d stepped into it, and sent it flying behind you. “Shit!”

“I was just gonna say be careful of the glass,” he mumbled, “don’t worry about it.”

“No, your carpet!” You squealed, face turning hotter and hotter without your approval. His eyes widened as he spotted the brown liquid seep further and further into the cream carpet. You scrunched up your face in horror.

“Throw me the flannel, quick!” You begged. He threw it as far as he could, which was still a few feet from you. You looked between him and the flannel, raising your eyebrows.

“I have weak arms,” he shrugged, stepping towards you as you grabbed the wet flannel and dabbed slowly at the stain.

“You’re meant to scrub,” he said.

“No you’re meant to dab,” you argued, seeing a slight improvement – but nothing special. You stood up and turned to him, once again noticing the close proximity between you. Simultaneously you both stepped back.

“I’m so sorry about your carpet,” you sighed, wishing more than anything that the stained carpet would swallow you up. He smiled reassuringly, his soft lips curling up at the corners. Remnants of your lipstick tinted them a little.

“It’s fine, we’ll just… put something over it,” he murmured, placing his hands on his cheeks and squeezing them. “Give me a hand with the sofa.”

He took one side of the couch, whilst you took the other, and lifted. It was a hard job, trying to move the sofa over the stain. Not only were you both relatively weak, and tired, but Eric was draped across the entirety of the sofa.

“There, that’s fine,” Otis laughed nervously, examining the crime scene. Again you apologised, hiding your face behind your hands.

“Y/N?” Otis asked, his words laced with curiosity and amusement. You were worried that he was going to bring up your previous outburst.

You swallowed, “what?”

“Did you draw a dick on Eric’s face?” He chuckled, and you turned to see a poorly drawn penis on Eric’s cheek. Your finest work. You laughed with him, breaking the tension between you both.

“You should see the masterpiece on Maeve’s forehead.”

 It was mid-May, the sun was warming the skin on the back of your neck, sending a tingling sensation down your spine. You were sat on a picnic table, talking with Maeve, Eric and Otis. It was a Friday lunchtime, and everyone was raving about the bonfire party occurring in the field of some rich kid’s farm that evening. Luckily, you four had received an invite.

“I can’t show up looking like an orange again, that’s for sure,” Eric sighs, pulling the crusts from his sandwich.

“You were a pretty sexy orange,” you wink.

“Oh I know,” he smirks back at you.

“She’s just being nice, people thought you shat yourself Eric,” Maeve interjects with a devilish smirk. Eric throws a piece of crust at her in quick retaliation, which hits her square in the forehead. You could practically feel the anger radiating from her body, and apparently so could Eric.

“Sorry, sorry, sorry, please don’t kill me,” he squeals, clinging onto Otis’s arm, almost as if to use him as a shield.

“That’d be too easy, especially with Otis as your protector” she grimaces. You let out a chuckle, Otis catching your eye with amusement lurking in his.

“Speaking of the party, I was going to invite Ola,” Otis smiles, looking at his water bottle.

“Oh good, maybe you’ll get a bit of action,” Maeve jokes, wiggling her eyebrows. You and Eric laugh in unison.

“Thanks Maeve,” Otis replies sarcastically.

“Oh we’re just playing, maybe a public kiss this time, you know, go official,” Eric nudges him. Your head snaps towards Otis. This was new information.

“You’ve kissed Ola?” You ask inquisitively, “you didn’t tell me.”

“I forgot to mention it, it’s nothing,” Otis shrugs, pulled at the shoulder straps on his rucksack.

“Well when was this?” You ask.

“Two months ago?” He guesses after a quick thought. You look between Maeve and Eric, who are both avoiding eye contact.

“Wait, everyone knew except me? Really?”

“I thought you knew,” Maeve admits, looking over to Otis, “you didn’t tell her?”

“It’s really not that much of a big deal,” he tells you.

“I asked after you both so many times, I just assumed it would’ve been mentioned,” you tell him. He shrugs again. Ouch, that hurt.

“It’s only happened a couple of times,” Otis adds. Oh great, so this happened on more than one occasion? You couldn’t put a finger on why you were so angry about it, was it the fact that you were last to know? That you felt deceived? You couldn’t pinpoint the exact reason.

“You trained him well Y/N,” Eric winks. Wait, what?

“What?” You and Maeve sing. You look at Otis, who is burning holes into the side of Eric’s head. . Eric notices the sudden change in atmosphere, and shakes his head.

“Nothing! Nothing,” Eric shouts.

Maeve looks between you and Otis. “You’ve kissed? Oh my god, when?” She’s half chuckling, probably in disbelief.

“At Otis’ 17th!” Eric blurts out, covering his mouth with a hand.

Otis shoves him and looks towards Maeve. “It was nothing, it was nothing!” He repeats. The words roll over in your head, circulating through your mind.

“I can’t believe you didn’t tell me!” Maeve laughs, elbowing your side.

“It was meant to be a secret… I was drunk and it just happened,” you told her, trying to act as if you weren’t furious.

“It was nothing,” Otis says again.

“Yeah! I think you’ve got that through to them Otis!” You say, standing up and throwing your bag over your shoulder. He looks up at you, his blue eyes wide and nervous. You sigh, shaking your head. “I’m going to class, I’ll see you all later,” you sigh.

Eric looks at you, confused. “But we’ve still got half of lunchtime left-“

“I’m going to class!” You yell, walking away before you explode with anger. How could Otis deceive you like that? And embarrass you in front of your closest friends with such ease?

You hadn’t noticed your cheeks were wet until you reached the toilets, and finally allowed the anger to seep from your eyes.

 “I just don’t understand it, you offered to kiss him so he could get his first kiss out of the way?” Maeve asks. You nod, collecting your things. You were meant to meet the others at the party in fifteen minutes, but realistically, you weren’t going to be there for a least half an hour. You grabbed as much as you could, giving yourself a once over in the mirror before stuffing your keys and phone into your pockets.

“Yes, in short,” you sigh, your head all over the place. You barely had time to process your feelings, and felt as if your brain wasn’t yet caught up with your heart. Maeve sits, perched on the edge of your bed with one knee tucked into her chest.

“Do you like him?” She asks, chin on her knee, she watches you intensely and you can feel yourself breaking under her stare.

“No!” You exclaim, throwing your hands in the air. You cross your arms, pacing the floor, “at least I don’t think so… I don’t know!”

“Oh this is getting good,” she says, lying back on your bed. “You could write a Netflix programme about this shit,” she adds, stretching her arms out. She peers up at you, “you didn’t fuck did you?”

“No! No! Just a kiss,” you sigh.

If it’s just a kiss, why do you feel so torn? You swallow, and look at her. “We need to go, we told the others we’d be there on time,” you sigh, clapping your hands and shooing her out of the room. She rolls her eyes.

“Stop tapping your foot,” she tells you.

You hadn’t noticed you were.

“I’m not!” You say, drilling your foot into the ground. Maeve inspects you.

“Look Y/N I need to tell you-“

“Maeve if it’s Otis related I don’t want to know. Please,” you plead, eyes becoming a little wet. She shuts her mouth and looks to the side.

“Maybe you need a drink,” Maeve proposes, “I mean you don’t have to, but one or two might make you feel better?”

You had rarely heard this soft tone from Maeve, and though her face showed no sign of emotion, you knew she cared. You smiled at her, thinking.

“Alright. Let’s have a drink before we go, but just one!”

Or two, or three, or four. You’d lost count after shot number six, and could feel your body begin to feel a little limp, a little more relaxed, a little more… fuzzy?

Maeve was laughing at you as you both attempted to walk along the yellow line on the side of the empty road. You weren’t doing too well, a few stumbles here and there, and the line seemed to be moving a little. “It’s not even straight!” You protested, squinting.

“I think I’m doing pretty well here,” Maeve called out in front. But as soon as those words left her mouth, her body met the floor. You almost peed yourself, you were in hysterics. Nothing else mattered apart from you, Maeve and the yellow line. That was until you arrived at Lawrence Fry’s farm.

“Fuck we’re here,” you muttered, looking across at Maeve.

“After you m’lady,” she chuckled, signalling for you to walk ahead. You took her hand and stumbled through the tall grass, both falling over unseen dips and molehills, each small blunder resulting in loud laughter. You could just make out a figure walking towards you: tall, blurry and wearing purple. Eric.

“Hey!” You yelled, walking towards him and greeting him with a hug.

“You’re swaying,” he says to you, “she’s swaying!”

“Nah, I think it’s the wind,” Maeve laughs. You turn and wink at her.

She retaliates with another wink, her eyes flickering between you and something behind you. She coughs, and widens her eyes. You turn, and step forward into a chest. Otis’ chest.

“Well hi there,” he chuckles, attempting to steady you by placing his hands on your arms. It doesn’t help much, the contact just causes your pulse to quicken. You look up at those blue eyes. His dark hair is pushed back into a quiff, held in place with the assistance of hair gel, and lots of it. He flashes a kind, white smile, the white t-shirt he’s wearing only making him look more… angelic.

That was when your head caught up with your heart.

“Hi,” you smiled, all anger dissipating from your being. It was almost as if he was the only person with you in a slight unpleasant smelling field of grass.

And… maybe not. A recognisable figure appeared next to him, “hi Y/N!”

“Hi Ola,” you smile, stepping back from Otis and seeing her smiling beside him. “You look pretty,” you say, and it was true. She did look stunning. You swallow the lump forming in your throat as you watch Otis place an arm around her waist.

“Thank you! So do you, as always,” she smiles. You step back again, deducing that the wind caught you off guard once again.

Maeve appears beside you, and pushes you back upright. “She’s a little drunk,” she announces.

“I’m a little drunk,” you echo, giggling. You catch Otis inspecting you, and can’t seem to read his mind.

Eric smiles at you and wraps an arm around your shoulder.

“Well, let’s get Eric on that level,” he smiles, walking you towards the crowd. You mouth a ‘thank you’ to him, to which he replies with a soft forehead kiss. He looks over at Maeve, “I can’t believe you both got pissed without me.”

Though Eric felt excluded previously, it didn’t take him long to reach your level. And before long, you three had all reached a pretty terrifying alcohol state. Thankfully, most of the other party-goers had too. You sat with Eric and Maeve around a giant bonfire situated in the middle of the field. The flames were hypnotic, and you couldn’t stop staring at them.

“Y/N I’m sorry if I embarrassed you earlier,” Eric slurs, tapping your leg lightly. “I just can’t help my mouth,” he laughs, leaning further and further back. You and Maeve have to pull him forward to stop him from falling off of the log. You shake your head profusely.

“It’s nothing! I’m glad I know you know,” you say, enunciating your words with equally poor diction. He smiles at you, and looks over at Maeve.

“At least I didn’t tell her they’ve done other stuff,” he tells Maeve. Her head turns towards you, an unreadable emotion lurking in her eyes. You blink.

“What?” You ask, nose tingling, eyes burning.

“That they’ve further explored their sexual healing, feeling, healing, whatever,” he murmurs, holding your hand. “He told you that right?” His eyes are half-closed, and he leans towards you to inspect your facial expression. Upon seeing your blatant shock, he gulps.

You clench your jaw, hurt from these constant lies, constant whispers.

“No, Eric. He didn’t even tell me about their kiss, of course he wouldn’t mention any other crap they’ve gotten up to!” You yell, tears brimming at the corners of your eyes. Maeve hits Eric’s arm, flipping him the finger.

Noticing the exchange, you stand up and look at her, “you knew?”

“Yes… I knew. But I didn’t know you didn’t know until today, he told me in confidence and begged me not to discuss it with anyone. I thought he did the same to you. But then today I realised you weren’t in the loop,” she sighs, standing up too.

“You could’ve told me today!”

“I tried! But you didn’t want to talk about it,” she tells you. A couple of people around the bonfire look at you both, you hadn’t noticed how loud you’d gotten. Or that Otis had appeared behind Maeve. You look at him, a stray tear dripping down your cheek.

Perhaps you should walk away, perhaps you should scream in Otis’ face, or tell him how strong your stupid feelings are for him. Perhaps you should sober up before any further damage is done. You should. But you don’t.

Instead you walk up to Lawrence Fry and lay a big, fat kiss on his unsuspecting lips.

[ms-znodgrass]

BRING BACK KYLO X READER

OMGGGGGGG

[ms-znodgrass]

Sweeter than Cake

In which the reader offer to help Otis feel a little less unappealing.

Word count: 1986.

A/N: I take requests also so feel free to load up my inbox with creative juices. xxx 

(not my gif)

You were Otis Milburn’s first kiss. It was spur-of-the-moment ordeal that occurred after a couple of drinks you’d had one night at a small gathering Otis held for his 17th birthday.

It was a bleak Friday, you, Otis, Eric and Maeve were headed out of school. The boys were steadily walking next to their bikes, helmets on at the ready, as you and Maeve chatted amongst yourselves. The boys were talking about some birthday tradition they were planning on repeating, courtesy of Eric’s generosity, whilst you and Maeve were discussing the upcoming evening in hushed tones.

“So you’ve got the cake sorted, yeah?” Maeve asked again. You looked at her, rolling your eyes.

“For the last time, I’ve got the cake!” You hushed.

“Alright, alright! Just don’t forget it this time,” she scorns light-heartedly.

“That was one time,” you chuckle, “I’ve learnt my lesson, don’t forgot the birthday cake for peoples’ birthday. I didn’t realise you’d get so cranky about it.”

“What else are birthdays for? Other than indulging in an insulting amount of calories and ruining your liver, what really is there to celebrate?” She murmurs, lighting a cigarette. You nudge her, and she blows a cloud of smoke in your direction.

Otis and Eric turn to you both, ironing out the fine details. “So tonight at eight at mine, mum’s sorting some drinks and stuff but otherwise bring your own alcohol if you want,” he tells you.

“In other words, bring alcohol,” Eric chimes in, “this is going to be even more raging than Josh Tower’s house party, how hard can it be to do a whole bottle of wine in two minutes?”

You and Otis share a concerned glare, trying to suppress a grin. “For you, it’ll be harder than playing that bloody horn in tune,” Maeve laughs, walking ahead of you all. “I’ll see you all later,” she calls.

“Erm rude!” Eric sings, hopping onto his bike. Otis follows suit. “See you later, Y/N, text me when you’re leaving and I’ll meet you at the junction,” he smiles, clipping his helmet on firmly. You nod, looking towards Otis.

“Are you sure you don’t need me to bring anything?” You ask. He shakes his head.

“No, no, I’ve got it under control,” he tells you. You’ve been friends with him for long enough to know when he’s worried, but also to know not to press him further.

“Okay, well then I’ll see you later,” you smile, “ride safe.” They both head off, leaving you and your music, and the long walk home.

You’re stood in front of the mirror, holding various clothing items up to your body and growling in frustration when you realise you have absolutely no clue what to wear and less than five minutes to decide. You call Eric.

“Hey Y/N, to what do I owe this pleasure?”

“I don’t know what to wear,” you sigh, “can I send you my options and you make the decision? You’ve got a better eye for it than I do,” you grumble, inspecting yourself in a navy dress. Nope, too Victorian.

“Send em over girl, and then leave already! We gotta get there soon,” he tells you.

You and Eric both managed to settle on a simple black dress. It was subtle, but fitted you well. You’d tried to make a little bit of an effort, at least. And perhaps it was just in your head, but Otis’ eyes lingered on your body a little more than normal when you entered the house, cake in hand (thank God), Maeve and Eric beside you.

You all bundled inside, eager to get away from the cold and closer to the alcohol. You lit the cake, sang the birthday song, and all focussed more attention on Otis than he was probably comfortable with – as is tradition for birthdays. Then you delved into your bags and started drinking the alcohol you managed to accumulate as a group. Maeve and Eric were eager to prove themselves, and you were enjoying the cheap wine you’d managed to scavenge from home.

It wasn’t long before Otis had left to use the bathroom, and Maeve and Eric were passed out on the sofas, each cuddling empty bottles as they slept. Though you were enjoying yourself as you drew obscene genitalia on their faces, you were starting to get a little lonely. It was only then that you had noticed Otis had been gone for longer than usual.

You call out his name, checking both bathrooms to find them empty. You then make a B-line for his bedroom, assuming that the birthday celebrations had probably wiped him out.

You slowly open the door to find Otis sitting on his bed, looking at his hands. “Hey, are you alright?” You ask softly, stepping into his bedroom and shutting the door behind you. He looks up at you, shocked, he hadn’t heard you come in.

“Yeah, yeah,” he says, standing up suddenly. He walks over to his vinyl collection, flicking through various covers. You edge further into his room, his space. He looks so comfortable in here.

“I love your room,” you tell him, not sure where this sudden confession had come from. He looks at you with amused eyes. “Well, it’s just nice isn’t it? So big and wood-filled and just, like something out of a romcom,” you murmur, your lips running away with you. You look at your slightly dishelevel self in the mirror, your cheeks a shade of pink and lips a shade of crimson red. The wine. The bloody wine.

“It does consist of a lot of wooden objects items,” he laughs. You send him a glare.

“You know what I mean,” you mumble, eyeing a picture on his bedside table. “This is sweet, you haven’t changed,” you laugh, staring at the small boy with the piercing blue eyes. Otis walks toward you.

“Oh my third birthday, that was a hell of a party,” he grins, a bittersweet smile finding his lips.

“I remember, with the drunk magician that managed to make five kids cry, a brilliant memory,” you smile, looking up at him. His smile falters a little, and he returns to his vinyl collection.

“Do you wanna talk about whatever is upsetting you?” You ask, leaning back on his bedside table. He looks at you, and thinks for a moment.

“Do you ever feel behind?” He asks.

“Like in school, in life? How do you mean?”

“Sexually,” he blurts out, not turning to look at you. You blink, a little confused and surprised.

“Erm, sometimes? I think? But then, everyone goes at their own pace when it comes to that,” you shrug, you lips moving more loosely than normal. ”Do you feel a little… behind?”

“Yes. No. I don’t know,” he mutters.

“Otis, talk to me.” His shoulders rise and fall, and his remains silent for a while.

“It’s ridiculous that I haven’t kissed anyone,” Otis groans. He still hasn’t moved from the vinyl player, his feet rooted to the ground.

You sit on the bed and sigh.

“It’s really not a big deal, some people don’t kiss anyone until they’re thirty. One couple didn’t until they were married!” You tell him, in an attempt to clear his head. “I promise you, you’re not weird, dysfunctional or a loser because you haven’t kissed anyone.”

“Well I didn’t think I was a loser but now you’ve mentioned it I-“

“Oh god Otis, if its’ really that much of an issue I’ll kiss you. It can be an extra birthday present if you want, like a giftcard but non-returnable,” you propose, shaking your head in disbelief, nothing gets past this boy.

“What?” He says, looking at you in surprise.

“What? Ooh, no, I was joking Otis,” you laugh. His face turns a dark shade of red.

“Yeah, of course, right, right,” he looks down, his gaze fixed on his hands once again. Maybe it’s the guilt, or the alcohol, but you think about it. About kissing Otis Milburn.

A moment passes, and you bite your lip. “I don’t have to be… joking, that is. If you wanna get it out of the way, it won’t mean anything,” you shrug, looking at him once more. He looks like a tomato.

“You are joking, right?”

“No. I’m serious, it’s no big deal. And if it means that much to you, I’ll be up for it,” you tell him.

“Oh so, a pity kiss?”

“No Otis, I’m just putting it out there,” you mumble, feeling embarrassed now. He doesn’t speak for a while, and you conclude that even Maeve and Eric are probably better conversationalists right now, and they’re passed out downstairs.

You stand up, “I’m just gonna head.”

“No,” Otis blurts out, taking a few steps towards you. “No. I want to just get it over with.”

“You do know how to make a girl feel special,” you smirk. Otis sends you a look. “I’m kidding!”

You take a seat back on the bed and he falls down beside you. “You don’t need to get it over with, there’s no timer on having your first kiss, Otis. It’s really nothing,” you tell him, placing a hand on his. His blue eyes find your and he sighs.

“I just want to feel normal,” he breathes. You twist your body to face his, and pull his chin so that his looking at you once again.

“No one is normal, being normal is overrated. Yeah, you know what, you are different to most people, you’re generous and helpful, and you are always there for people, even when they don’t deserve you. I beg that you see that,” you mutter, you hand now on his cheek. A moment passes and you notice his eyes flicker to your lips. He hesitates, his head etching towards yours.

Impatiently, you push your face towards his and graze his lips. He pulls away, a little taken aback. You bury your hands into your lap. “I’m sorry, I shouldn’t have just-“

His hands are on your cheeks, closing the space between you both once again. He’s still a little nervous, planting a soft kiss on you. You meet his gaze, an overwhelming feeling clouding both of your judgements. You should probably stop, but neither of you want to. This kiss gets more heated now, his hands landing on your hips, your arms tangled around his neck. He bring you on top of his lap, a new surge of confidence rushing through him. Your legs are on either side of his, and he’s threatening to lie back on the bed and bring you with him, his body begins to tilt back and then... he squeals.

You pull back.

“You okay?” You ask, searching his face for any sign of violation. His cheeks turn a deep red, patchy against his pale skin. You run a hand through his fringe, pushing it off of his face.

“Yeah, I just, erm, need to use the bathroom,” he mumbles, stumbling over his words. You nod, stepping off of him. You hop from one foot to the other, unsure of what to do with yourself.

“I’ll leave you to it,” you smile awkwardly, worried that he was regretting the heated moment between you both already. You cough awkwardly, stepping out of the room and leaving him to gather his thoughts – just as you needed to.

You lean against the door and touch your lips, a tingling sensation lingering behind. Your mind was messy, filled with all kinds of thoughts and questions and worries. You didn’t know what would happen tomorrow, or in the next few minutes when Otis would emerge from his room to find you trying to wake the others up in a desperate plea to rid the air of any discomfort. But one thing that was apparent, was that your heart was beating a little too quickly. And boy, Otis Milburn was a good kisser.

[ms-znodgrass]

Too Much Pino (Newt x Reader)

Word count: 2274

When the reader has to pretend to be Newt’s girlfriend, a little home truths are revealed...

Authors Note: Please excuse any grammatical errors, I didn’t have time to read this through. Sorry!

You had met Newt Scamander at an exhibition of some sort, studying the creatures of the magical wizarding world. Secretly, you were quite the fan, having heard of his large list of inhabited creatures and having read up on his findings regarding every single one.

To say you were a little star struck was a slight under exaggeration. But, once the halo around his head had grown fainter, 6you were able to speak with him as a normal person would. The two of you became very close friends.

That was years ago however, and since, you have both done intense research together. Often you co-wrote papers about rumoured animals that were to be found, and created plans on how you could find them. One of your most recent findings was a Spurlgeo that you named Pino. Splurgeo’s were relatively rare, but gifted in the sense that they could detect dishonesty. Pino was a derivation of Pinocchio, because whenever a Splurgeo knows you’re lying, its nose would grow. The name amused you, and Newt for that matter.

Your research into the genetic structure of a Mymph was cut short when Queenie knocked at your door. “Hello,” you said, knee deep in an essay about the lack of chromosomes found in a Mymphs cell cluster.

“Sweetie, we need to get ready,” she chimed, peering her head around the door. You finished copying up your sentence, before turning to look at her. You beamed, you were so excited about the ball tonight. It was a perfect break for you all, a ray of sunshine that streamed through the dark ‘Grindelwald’ cloud that hung over your heads.

“Let’s go!” You squealed, following her to her bedroom where she was determined to make you look like a movie star.

After an hour or so, Queenie had completed your look. You’d settled for a long, navy, velvet dress that clung to your curves and wrapped seamlessly around your body. The long sleeves protected you from the harsh winter chill, and the v-neck plunge showed a little bit of cleavage.

“Are you sure this isn’t too much?” You asked her, as you inspected your flawless make-up, polished off with a red lip. Queenie appeared in the mirror behind you, eyes sparkling.

“I’m sure. You’re gorgeous!” She giggled. You turned to look at her, her porcelain skin was draped in a beautiful red dress, her hair hung in tight curls about her cheekbones.

“And you look stunning,” you told her, “thank you so much. Now we beet head off before Tina thinks we’ve stood her up.” You took her arm in yours, and both skipped to the door.  

 The ball was lively as you entered, everyone was laughing and smiling and drinking. People waved at you, Queenie and Tina, approaching you with warm hugs and soft kisses. After an hour or so, you began to look for Newt. You had discovered some new information about the Splurgeo and were eager to share your findings. After a couple of minutes of shuffling through the crowds, you spotted his tall stature a few metres in front of you. “Newt!” You yelled, hoping to gain his attention. He turned his head, looking around curiously. He couldn’t spot you and his dumbfounded expression was amusing to you.

Suddenly he spotted you, a small smile crossing his features. Only for a second though. His sweet grin was replaced with a concerned look, and he bolted towards you.

Breathlessly, he started, “Y/N I really need a favour, it seems I’ve gotten myself into a situation and I really need you to help me.”

“Woah, Newt, breathe,” you told him, placing your hands on his shoulders. He inhaled deeply. “I’m sure it can’t be that bad at all, we can easily-“

“I need you to pretend to be in love with me.”

“What?”

He half laughed, almost making you think he was joking. But then his stern expression told you that he certainly wasn’t.

“What?”

“Please! Something slipped and then unravelled into this stupid lie, and I can’t let people think I’m any more of a loser.”

“You’re not a loser. At least they don’t think so, I on the other hand-“

“Please Y/N! I’ll do anything,” he pleaded.

“Anything? Like, lend me your Farheo analyser?”

“Yes!”

“Done.”

“This is Y/N, my… partner,” Newt sighed, “this is Lacabelle and Gregario Jones.” The two people that stood before you were polar opposites. The lady, was tall and thin, her purple hair hung below her lips, lips painted with a bright red colour. On the other hand, the gentleman was short and stout, his hair balding a little. His lips were red also, but it was a result of the red wine he was sipping ever so frequently.

“Hello, its lovely to meet you,” you smiled, shaking their hands. “I hope you have a lovely evening, and-“

Pino appeared out of nowhere, brushing up against your leg and stopping your train of thought. “Oh hello,” you grinned, rubbing his furry head.

“Who’s this?” Lacabelle smiled, looking down at Pino.

“This is Pino, Y/N named him after Pinocchio, because he’s a Splurgeo,” Newt announced, chuckling a little. You knew he found the joke funny.

“Oh how enchanting! A splurge! Ha, these little guys are always hard to find!”

“He must’ve hidden in my bag,” you said, a little embarrassed.

“He’s very cheeky,” Newt chimed in. Pino wrapped his body around Newts calf, as he always did. At times you had to pry Pino away from Newt, much to Pino’s dismay. The little fluffball loved Newt, and never enjoyed leaving him. He was the reason you were around Newt so much. Well, part of the reason.

“I can see. It must be interesting to have him around, I’m sure he settles many of your arguments,” Gregario laughed. You and Newt looked at each other, sharing a nervous glance.

“Very rarely,” you joked, suddenly feeling Newts arm snake around your waist.

“Well it must be nice to know when he’s lying, Y/N?”

“Of course! Though the only lie that has ever left his mouth is, ‘You look beautiful’. Especially after hours of research,” you smiled.

“Oh but you are beautiful Y/N!” Lacabelle compliments.

“She’s certainly the most beautiful woman in the room,” Newt chuckled, his grip softer around your waist. You all spotted Pino out of the corner of your eyes, awaiting the growth of his nose. But, it didn’t change shape. His little paws touched his face, scratching at his neck. Nothing.

You could feel your cheeks burn as Newt peered down at you through his lashes. You couldn’t help but allow your lips to curl up, and tried to prevent your smile escalating to a full beam. “Oh I say, you’ve found yourself a real charmer Y/N!” Lacabelle sung, sipping on her wine.

“I’m rather lucky,” you said, more to yourself than the others. Gregorio swayed a little, his nose as red as the wine in his hand. He looked between you both.

“It’s so good to see a couple find love even in the darkest of times,” he smiled.

“Oh hush Gregorio, they might not have announced it to each other yet,” Lacabelle laughed. You looked at Newt, afraid of what might come next.

“Well, have you?”

“S-sorry?” Newt choked.

“Do you love each other?” He smirked, nudging Newt. Low and behold, your worst nightmare. With Pino present, this could go one of two ways – and both outcomes would not work in your favour. Lacabelle softly punched him arm, mumbling about how ridiculous he is. Still, she was waiting for an answer.

You looked at Newt, scoffing. “Well, you know-“

“We haven’t really-“

Suddenly, you both transformed into a pair of absolute idiots. You had started rambling, at the same time, desperately trying to think of ways to avoid the question. The only problem was that Newt had finally shut his mouth a little too early. This meant that your last little confession has slipped out, and he had heard it perfectly.

“-he likes animals which is amazing and has really good hair and I do love him but…”

All of you turned your heads to Pino, who once again stood there and shrugged. You allowed a few seconds to pass before you began to silently pray that the ground would swallow you up, or that the ceiling would collapse solely on you. Pinos’ nose hadn’t stretched, not even an inch.

It had suddenly gotten very quiet. Lacabelle stared at you and blinked once. Gregorio was in the process of finishing his drink, and Newt had removed his arm from your waist. You felt awful, and your heart had stopped beating. At least you though, or hoped.

You blinked a few times, and cleared your throat. “It’s suddenly gotten very warm, please excuse me.”

You had never walked so quickly. People around you looked like coloured blurs in your vision, and you couldn’t tell whether that was a result of the clumsy way you were navigating yourself, or the water that slowly began to well up in your eyes. At one point you felt an arm graze your shoulder, and caught Queenies eye. You smiled unconvincingly, and kept walking.

The cold air hit your burning cheeks with a silent slap, instantly calming you down and relaxing the muscles that had sewn together in your throat. The balcony was bare, thankfully, bordered with a marble railing. It kept you from nearly throwing yourself over the edge. Nearly.

You began to pace, hoping to rid yourself of the embarrassment. Talking to yourself helped too, a series of ‘why’s and ‘how’s and curse words flew from your mouth. Eventually you just buried your face within your hands and screamed. So very loudly, you felt as if your voice was about to disappear. Maybe you would too.

“Y/N?”

In the midst of your meltdown, you hadn’t noticed that another body had joined you outside. You furthermore hadn’t noticed that the one person who had followed you, was the last person you’d expect to want to see you.

You slowly removed your hands from your face, wrapping them around your torso. Your head etched round to see Newt coming towards you.

Standing next to your side, he looked out at the view. A sea of darkness bedecked with flickers of golden paint. You were just able to make out the horizon, its silhouette illuminated ever so slightly by the rising moon. “I’m sorry I had to throw that on you, as soon as you came through the door,” he said, slowly and carefully, as if his words could break you if he wasn’t careful.

“No, no. Don’t be silly,” you sighed, struggling to maintain your composure. He noticed your change in aura, and tried to resume a normal conversation, hoping it’d make you feel better.

“The food here is-“

“Look, about what Pino said,” you began, “it’s really nothing to take in, not that I’m sure you did, you know, notice my little proclamation,” you were rambling, “in fact it’s not a proclamation because it’s not true, you know that Splurgeo’s are only accurate 90% of the time so 10% of the time they’re wrong.” You were still rambling. “And clearly Pino is wrong, I mean it’s blatantly obvious isn’t it? And the research I’m doing-“

You hadn’t noticed the change in proximity between you and Newt until you felt his warm breath fanning your face. You turned your body, practically bumping into his chest. You looked up at him, your nose ever so close to his. His eyes were catching yours, holding them. You felt as if your face was getting closer to his, and looked out at the view again, though it suddenly seemed very dull in comparison.

“I’m making you uncomfortable,” Newt mumbled, stepping backwards and thrusting his hands into his coat pockets. Instinctively, you reached out.

“No, no. I’m too comfortable when I’m with you,” you confessed involuntarily. He looked up at you again, watching you through the soft curls of his fringe. He took another step towards you, closing the space that hung between you both. His warm hands touched your cheeks, thumbs grazing over your cheekbones.

“You’re freezing,” he sighed, concern laced within his tone. You smiled.

“Am I?” You hadn’t noticed. The goose bumps appearing on your arms were certainly not a result of the harsh winter wind that soared around you both. He nodded, removing his coat. “Newt stop, you’ll catch a cold.”

“Better me than you,” he smiled, draping it over your shoulders. His wide mouth twitched slightly, eyes hiding behind his ginger curls, he was thinking.

“What is it?” You asked, touching his arm briefly.

“I so terribly want to kiss you,” he blurted out, his cheeks turning a shade of crimson. Your lower jaw dropped a little, and your eyes widened. The words left your mouth before your brain caught up with you.

“Then kiss me.”

Newt’s eyes flickered from the floor to your lips, and he brought his hands up to your cheeks once again. His lips softly touched yours, tickling your mouth. It was light and kind, leaving a large smile in its wake.

Again, he brought your head closer to his and deepened the kiss. You almost melted into his arms, and had to steady your body against his. He chuckled a little, that same laugh that caused your heart to beat two times as fast.

“I hope that tells you how very much I love you.” Newt took your body in his, and hugged you as tightly as he could muster.

“I would say the same, but I think Pino beat me to it.”

[ms-znodgrass]

Something New(t) - Newt x reader

In which the reader goes on a hunt for the one guy she actually likes. 

Sorry if this doesn’t meet standards or for any typos I didn’t proof read. Otherwise, enjoy...

Newt’s leather suitcase sits in the corner of the room, unguarded and open. You take a step inside, appearing inside Newt’s hidden treasure seconds later. You walk down the wooden steps, trying to spot him amongst the endless papers and drawings. A leather bound book lies on the table, filled with findings from recent beasts he added to his ever growing collection. You smile, his handwriting messy and scattered, just like him.

Still, the room is bare. You can detect no movement, except the odd noise from Mutlaps or Hatchlings. Your hands absent mindedly feel for the furniture around you, ghosting your fingertips across a large golden globe. You spin it, closing your eyes and placing your finger on it. Africa. That’ll be your next stop.

Soft footsteps echo through the wooden shack you stand in. They’re far too quiet to belong to Newt, and far too rapid to belong to Jacob. You turn around to see Niffler waddling towards you and bend down to face your favourite animal within Newt’s portfolio.

“Hey there,” you smile, holding your hand out so that he flops his large stomach on your palm. You chuckle. “Have you seen Newt?” You ask, stroking his little head. Niffler simply looks between you and the door leading to the ocean, and you follow his glare.

“Out there?” You ask, heading for the door. Niffler nods frantically, before climbing onto your shoulder. You look outside, leaning from the door frame. Not far from you, you see Newt’s body hunched over himself. The moonlight kisses the crest of the waves overlapping each other, illuminating his body’s outline. You sigh. The past week has been horrendous for everyone involved, it had only been a couple of days since Grindelwald appeared before you all inside the stadium, since Queenie had left you, and since Leta had given her life for the cause. You had barely seen Newt since, and you knew he was nervous to return to Hogwarts within a day or two.

Niffler nuzzles into your neck, tickling your jawline. “We’ll find you later,” you tell him, taking his body in yours and placing him on the floor. He again nods, before rushing off into another room, probably to bother another creature.

Newt doesn’t hear you coming, he’s too absorbed in his own thoughts. In frustration, he stands upright and places his head in his hands. You appear next to him. “Would you rather be alone?”

He freezes, turning his head to the side yet not facing you fully. He peers at you out of the corner of his eye, hiding behind the collar of his coat. “No, no. Don’t mind me,” he says, half-chuckling, half embarrassed. You didn’t need to see his face to know his cheeks would be red hot. He sits back on the stand, facing the ocean before him.

A whale-like beast flies out of the sea, before crashing back onto the black horizon. You breathe out, never unsurprised at the beauty that hid within Newt’s suitcase. You sit beside Newt, and smile. “Wow. It still amazes me that you’ve created all this,” you tell him, still showered in awe.

You can feel a small smile tug at the corner of his lips. He shakes his head. “You sound surprised,” he mutters.

“Not at all,” you sigh, looking over at him. His eyes catch yours for a moment, touseled ginger waves covering his eyes. His eyes.

He turns away, a cue for a long silence which you inevitably break.

“Are you alright?”

“Yes, of course,” he mumbles. Something tells you to take his hand in yours, and you do. His cold, large hands feel alien in yours. Yet you can’t help but wish you’d wrapped your fingers around his before. He’s surprised by this, but his hand doesn’t move. His entire body seizes, and you swear he stops breathing for a while. Then he relaxes, and his hands feel like putty in yours.

“Do you want to talk about it, or do you want to be alone?” The words cut the tension like a blunt knife.  

“I don’t want to-to talk, about it,” he breathes, head still facing the sand. You blink, and move to stand. His hands grip tighter around yours.

“No, stay. Please,” he asks, eyes once again catching yours. You nod, sitting slighter closer to him. Both of you are unfamiliar to the sudden change in proximity, but neither of you know how to deal with the feelings stirring within you.

“I’m glad I know you,” he whispers, peering at you again. You feel your cheeks heat up a little.

“Ditto,” you wink, both giggling a little. For once, everything feels a little more at ease. These a balance restored in this horrendous mess you’re all tied up in. Sure, tomorrow you’ll have to face it all again, but for now, nothing stretches past this moment you and Newt are sheltered in. You’ve never felt so safe when everything around you is telling you to run away and hide. It’s all so new.

You rest your head on Newts shoulder, wanting to eliminate all space between you. His coat smells of him, and you’re temporarily launched into a state of euphoria when you breathe in the soft scent. “One day, once this is all over, we’re going to Africa.”

“Have you been exploring the globe without me?” He asks, and you can feel his chest vibrating.

“How could you tell?” You grin, bringing your head up to watch his face. It’s so close to yours, your noses are centimetres from touching.

He has noticed the closeness of you both as well, and you catch his irises flutter down to your lips a few times. You feel yourself pull into him, as if a magnetic field is surrounding you both, creating an undeniable force of attraction between you both. You noses brush, and you’re moments from making contact when he kisses your cheek instead.

You’re both a little shocked, and disappointed. He was completely off target, and you both knew. Still, you smiled sweetly, and took that as a cue to retire to bed. You stroke his cheek softly, grazing your thumb across his cheekbone. You can see his head fall into your hand a little, and your heart winces at the sight.

“I should go, we’ve got a long day tomorrow and it’s gone midnight,” you whisper, pulling your head back and watching his eyes widen ever so slightly. He nods, letting go of your other hand. His smile falters. “Are you coming?” You ask, standing and brushing the sand from your thighs.

“I’ll be out soon,” Newt tells you, eyes fixated on the high moon behind you. You kick some sand around a little.

“I’ll see you tomorrow.”

And with that, you head for the door, walking past the books, the doodles, the plans. You even pass a curious Niffler who’s settled on Newts’ desk. And finally you pass the globe, hoping that one day you’ll travel it. Maybe with Newts’ company.

Amidst the thoughts flying through your mind, you hear footsteps behind you and a pair of hands wrapped around your waist. You’re about to question this intruder, when Newt spins you to face him.

“Wha-“

His lips are on yours, pressed against them with such need, such longing. He pulls away, searching for any sign of disapproval that might be evident on your face.

“I’m sorry I-“

This time you silence him, bringing your hands to the back of his head, pulling at the hair on the back of his neck. His grip around your waist tightens, pulling your groin against his. You kiss his lips lightly once again, a kiss that was so soft it might just be a daydream.

Newt holds you against him for a while, kissing your forehead and swaying your body with his. You run your hands through his messy fringe, and laugh like a school girl. He grins again.

“So Africa?”

[ms-znodgrass]

everyone needs saving - poe x reader pt.2

In which the reader is Leia’s daughter and Poe’s best friends. It has been years since she set out on a mission to bring Ben home, but never returned. A/N: again excuse the poor quality and any spelling/grammar errors, I didn't get to fully check the au. Plus there are some subtle spoilers of TLJ. 

(creds to gif owner)

You stepped out into hanger, your footsteps were the only sound evident in the tense area. Two men were on their knees, heads facing the ground. Two Stormtroopers stood behind them, hands on the rebels shoulders, pressing firmly into their necks. One man, with dark skin and shining eyes looked up at you. His mouth fell open, and he managed to nudge the man next to him, earning a rough push in return.

The other whipped his neck up, his tousled dark hair stuck to his forehead. He shook his head, trying to get a clearer view. He squinted, yet his dark hair was still obstructing his vision. You’d figured he saw you when his jaw went slack and his eyes grew in size. You stopped a few metres in front of both the intruders, next to Kylo Ren. “Sir,” you said, alerting him of your presence.

“Soldier these men say they know you,” Kylo spat, turning to you with a mixture of anger and amusement in his eyes – a look you knew well.

“I’ve never seen them before.”

“Take off your mask, maybe you’ll be able to see clearer without that junk covering your face,” the big-eyed one said. You inspected him closely, his well-built body is donned white and orange jumpsuit, a radio attached to the front.

“Incorrect,” you stated. You examined his attire, “I can practically see the radio waves emitting from that transmitter on your chest,” you pause, looking at the Stormtrooper behind him, “remove it.”

In one quick move the trooper rips it from the man’s chest and hands it to you. You look at it briefly before handing it to another trooper next to you. “I’ll be needing that later.”

“I expect you to take these men to D192 for further interrogation General,” Kylo said, giving you a quick look before walking back towards the control room. You signalled for the troopers to pick the rebels up, “take them to D192, I’ll follow shortly.”

“Yes General.” The brown eyed one stared at you as he was dragged past, eyes glossy and heartbroken.

“This is what you came here for? To be treated like another mindless robot?!” He yelled. You took the radio from the other Stormtrooper, and inspected it closely. On the back was written ‘Property of Poe Dameron, best pilot in the Resistance x’. The handwriting was familiar and for some unknown reason, your heart lurched at the words. Kylo Ren watched you, jaw tightening as you headed for D192.

When Poe awoke he was attached to a metal table, one he’d been acquainted with before. The cool metal that clenched around his fists, the dark walls that seems to be growing ever so closer and closer, as well as the distinct smell of suffering were all signs that he was locked in an interrogation room.

He could feel the fear running through his veins, his hands were sweaty and forehead shiny. This room held all kinds of secrets, dark secret upsetting for even the most evil of minds. One he had calmed himself with deep breaths, he began to search for Finn. The dull aching at the back of his head had temporarily scrambled his thoughts, and he had forgotten about his friend. But as his mind cleared, worry filled his head, introducing new worst case scenarios revolving around the fate of his ally, his best friend. He gulped heavily, hands fisting at his sides as he tried to wiggle free of the contraption that kept him from Finn. And yet, it was no use, not that he didn’t already know that.

“You look peaceful when you sleep.” The robotic female voice that broke the silence and cracked through the growing humidity of the interrogation room was unrecognizable, yet Poe knew it was you.

“You would know,” he spat, anger rising within him, visible to your harsh stare. You smiled.

“There’s no point in attempting to break free Dameron,” you told him, your helmet morphing your words into cold, metallic sounds. He scoffed.

“If I don’t escape they’ll brainwash me, just like they did to you,” he mumbled. You walked slowly from behind him, appearing at his side. You stared at the dark wall in front of you both, and could feel Poe looking at your disguised face.

“Take off the mask.”

“Why?” You replied, looking down at him, hands behind your back cradled in leather gloves. They were your best weapon of course, you hand to care for them incredibly well.

“I want to see the face that once belonged to my best friend.”

You tilted your head, walking further so that you were now opposite him, inspecting him. Silently, almost like a predator awaiting for its prey to look away, you removed the headgear and placed it on the floor. You stepped forward, into the clearer light. It highlighted every crevice and curve on your face, causing Poe’s breath to hitch in his throat.

His pupils dilated and eyebrows furrowed upwards as his lips curled into a frown before parting. “What did they do to you?” He whispered, seeing the marks behind the shadows. Your eyes were drained of all colour, cheeks hollow and lips white. A bruise was faintly evident on your right cheek, fingerprints stained your neck. You swallowed, unclear of what emotion was evident on his face. It certainly was not an expression you had grown accustomed to in the First Order.

“You do not know me.”

“On the contrary Y/N,” you flinched, blinking, “I know you too well.” You breathed, unsure of why you had an aching within your heart, unsure of why it was beating far too quickly. The hairs on your arms were standing at full attention and yet every muscle on your face remained still.

“How come I do not know you?” You countered, looking down at his face. He looked so real, so human.

“I don’t know! They’ve brainwashed you Y/N, how can you not remember, how can you forget your family, your home?”

Your hands were so small, and your feet even smaller. The field was full of green grass far taller than your little body, perfect for hiding. You meandered through the swishy green trees, searching for a dark haired boy with big brown eyes. “Ben!” You yelled into the colourful abyss, “Ben! Where are you? I give up!”

A high-pitched giggle followed your exasperated outburst, and you smiled, now you had him! You followed the sound of the boy-ish laugh and came to a clearing, the floor was brown and dusty. Even the lightest footstep caused the loudest crunch to echo in the silence of the field. You huffed, placing your hands on your hips angrily. You had no idea where he was, again. You were about to shout when he appeared from the grass, jumping forward. You were so frightened that you screamed, scaring the birds that hid in the trees nearby. You feel straight onto your bottom and began to cry, the shock of Ben’s sudden appearance now settling in. Within a few second, Ben was by your side, hugging you tightly. “Shh! Shh!” He would whisper, begging you to stay quiet. You father was nearby, and he wouldn’t approve of Ben’s actions.

After promises of sweets and treats if you’d shut up, you stopped crying. A tall figure waded through the field, and even with your blurry vision you noticed it belonged to your father. “Y/N, are you alright?” He asked, bending down to your height. You nodded, looking between him and Ben.

“I fell,” you lied, causing Ben to crack out a smile and your father to roll his eyes. He picked you up, and took you in his arms, checking you over for any bruising.

“Does this hurt?” He would say as he prodded at you playfully, making you laugh. You tied your hands around his neck, and fluttered your eyes closed. You were exhausted, all the playing you and Ben had done during the afternoon had finally caught up with you. Your father kissed your head and grabbed Ben’s hand. “I think it’s time we go home,” he mumbled, pushing through the grass.

“I also think it’s time your brother stopped scaring you, hey Y/N?”

Poe’s eyebrows arched up, he had noticed your change in demeanour and decided to provoke you even more. “They did this to you,” he sighed, “you came here to bring Ben back-“

“Ben does not exist. He died long ago,” you spat. His heart dropped, your eyes had clouded over again.

“And now he has taken my Y/N with him,” Poe added, eyes filling with water. Ideas raced through his minds, ways to bring you back to your senses were plotted out in his head like plans on white paper. There was a moment of silence.

“Look into my mind.”

You were taking aback by his sudden change in attitude. How was it that this one man could make your blood boil in ways you didn’t know were possible. How could this stranger affect you in such a way? You suppressed your doubts and instead let your anger take over. “How dare you order me to-“

“Look into my mind and remember!”

You couldn’t control yourself, within seconds your hand was stretched towards his head attempting to clutch at the strings of his mind. He let you in, door open. He invited you to enter his memories and search through them carelessly, like a bull in a china shop. You found something, deep in the archives.

“Best pilot in the resistance? I think you deserve a trophy or something,” you muttered, nudging an elbow into Poe’s side. He looked across at you and gave you and stomach flipping smile.

“Nah we’re low on budget, I was considering a tattoo, they’re more permanent,” he replied, hanging an arm around your shoulders. You took his hand in yours and tapped the back of it.

“Right here, so you never forget,” you grinned. He looked at you with promise in his eyes.

“Maybe in a few years’ time,” he sighed, looking out to the sunset. You looked at your best friend in awe for a few moments.

“Just in case you forget,” you mumble, taking a pen out of your jumpsuit, “I’ll give you a temporary tattoo.” You took his radio off his chest and wrote on it, “here.”

“Property of Poe Dameron, best pilot in the Resistance x”, he recited, struggling to contain his laughter. He kissed your forehead tenderly. “Never change Y/N, not for all the stars in the galaxies.”

He let you read every page, every word, ever letter, thousands of times. He took you through the ups and the downs, the moments to be treasured and the moments to be forgotten.

“I’m coming I swear to you Poe,” you shouted through the comm, pointing your blaster at some Stormtroopers and firing. You ran across the bare white plain to where Poe was standing, surrounded by more of the enemy. He was shooting everywhere he could, but he was also drawing more attention to himself, worrying you.

You had managed to shoot down a couple of them as you sprinted towards your best friend. You heart felt heavy, you struggled to breathe and your vision was growing blurry as your fears casted out the worst scenarios on repeat in your mind. You screamed out, gaining their attention. They began to fire at you now, several lasers soared towards you whilst you could barely aim properly. You gulped, holding your hands in front of you and screaming. A few moments passed in silence, and you felt nothing. No injuries, no burns not scathes. You opened your eyes to see the red laser beams floating in mid-air. With a gulp you pushed your body forward, firing the beams back to their sources and impaling the troopers in the process. They all fell at once, leaving Poe standing in the centre of the bodies. You could hear his thoughts running wild.

Your hands didn’t seem to feel like yours, they felt tingly and odd. You inspected them several times, giving Poe the opportunity to meet you. His pupils were wide, trying to recount what had just happened. He took your hands in his, bringing his lips to your knuckles. His hot breath fanned over the back of them and you flinched a little. “What just happened?” You questioned innocently. His lips quirked up a little.

“It must run in the family.”

“It must run in the family,” you repeated, now back in the interrogation room, in the First order ship, somewhere in the galaxy. Poe’s head snapped up at you, he was exhausted. Suddenly your hands were on his face, ghosting over his cheeks. He melted into your touch only provoking some deeper feelings within you. He was breathless, dark bags hung under his eyes, his face red and eyes bloodshot. You had rinsed him of this information, tortured his mind and bruised yours in the process. You fell to your knees, and sobbed.

You hadn’t sobbed in so long, the fresh tears were warm and salty as they slipped down your worn cheeks. Your life had returned to you, only once it was ripped from your grasp. Yes, you remembered…

The ship landed on the deserted planet you had agreed to meet Ben on. You were on time, the sun rising into high noon. Surely he hadn’t forgotten of your meeting, you had been planning it for month through the Force.

You reached into your jumpsuit and pulled out two photos, one of you and Ben and the other of you and Poe. You smiled, turning the second one over. “Perhaps one day I’ll save your life just as you saved mine – Poe.” The picture reminded you of home, and the other photograph reminded you of why you came. You summoned all courage that lurked in your body and suppressed the uneasy feeling in your chest. This was your brother, Ben. He wouldn’t hurt you.

A noise hummed through the humid air, a ship appearing in the distance. You stood, trying to make yourself look a little more presentable as it landed. After years, you would see Ben again. The ramp lowered at you walk hesitantly towards it, very much aware of the blasters attached to the ship. A cloaked figure emerged from the darkness, walking with purpose, with power. It intimidated you to say the least.

“Ben?” You shouted out to the cloaked figure. You had heard of the rumours of his new identity as Kylo Ren, and the new appearance he had adopted, but to see it in the flesh was unsettling. He stopped a few metres in front of you.

“Y/N,” he breathed, taking the mask off so that you could see his matured face. A tear fell from your eyes, your sensitivity was never something you could ignore.

“You look-”

“Older? Better?”

“Lonely,” you sighed, seeing the real ben behind the eyes of the monster in front of you. You stepped forward, his voice was familiar due to your contact via the Force but his appearance, you couldn’t have recognised him if you tried. However his big, dark eyes told you that Ben Solo was indeed still alive. You stepped forward again, trusting in him. He didn’t move, convincing you that he wasn’t going to hurt you. Nothing within you gave you the feeling that he would ever hurt you. He was your brother.

Eventually you couldn’t hold back, you flung yourself forward into his arms, squeezing his tightly as you used to. “I’ve missed you so much,” you whimpered in his arms, holding him close. “Mother hasn’t been the same, father is missing. Ben we need you home,” you cried, looking at him. For a moment he looked at you with empathy, his own eyes seeming glassy and wet. For a moment, you thought he was going to come home. But those next few words changed your life.

“I’m sorry,” he mumbled, placing his hands on either side of your head as you yelled out.

You woke up in a cell, and the rest was history.

You were brainwashed from then on, hours of torture was your discipline if you remembered your mother, father, or Poe. Ben was against the idea, simply following the rules of the Supreme Leader Snoke. Yet one day, he grew more hostile, something broke within him. It was the same day that the Rebels attacked, and a legend named Han Solo had come to see Kylo Ren. That named remained branded within your memory.

The bruises that formed on your face throughout the months were daily reminders of the sins Kylo Ren had committed and soon, he couldn’t even to look at you. Little did you know that seeing your face brought the light back into his heart, and he hated that, so as your brother found the sight of you infuriating, you forgot that he was your brother. Training kicked in, your powers with the Force improved – though your capabilities did not meet those Kylo Ren’s.

  “Y/N?” The very sound of your name brought you back to Poe, and the light.

You stumbled back, releasing Poe from the metal contraption. “We need to go,” you breathed. Poe looked at you, shocked and concerned. “We need to get FN-2187.”

“His name is Finn,” Poe mumbled, still acting hostile towards you. This was completely understandable considering you could become a lethal weapon again any second. Poe looked weaker than ever, and as you ran towards Finn’s destination, he lagged behind. You turned, and saw him looking dazed and tired, he wouldn’t survive without your help. You stopped, allowing him to catch up with you so that you could place one of his toned arms around your neck and hold his torso close to you. The feeling of his body warmth stunned your system.

You were practically carrying Poe through the corridors when you turned the corner and saw two troopers guarding the room Finn was locked in. This was no danger for you though, as you swiftly threw your hands in the air and flung their bodies into the wall.

Opening the door, you saw Finn sitting on the floor of the cell. “Finn, I’m gonna need a hand.” At the sound of your gentle tone he stood up, assisting you in carrying Poe.

“So, you’re Y/N?” He said after a few second of silence, he was also in a daze, the fine line between reality and imagination was almost tangible.

“Something like that, and you’re Finn?” You replied, earning a curt nod in reply. “Tell me Finn, have you any experience in shooting down star ships?”

“I’ve had practise,” he smiled.

You managed to get to the hanger with no further obstructions, sneaking around the back of the fighter jets. One stood out to you, it was nearest to the edge of the ship and the blasters were in fine condition. JZ22 was painted on the black body in big, white letters.

A few troops had noticed you trying to get away but they would quickly be forced into to a deep sleep, much to Finn’s amusement. It was only when you climbed into the jet that you encountered an issue.

Poe grunted loudly, a noise you assumed was caused as a result of your probing. It was only when Finn informed you of the enemies gaining on you that you clocked it was something worse. Once safely in the jet, you gave Poe a once over. A severe gash in his leg had started bleeding out, and the familiar feeling of dread developed in your chest. “Finn I’m gonna need you to tie a tourniquet around Poe’s leg and keep him stable until I get us out of here,” you instructed, climbing into the cock pit and charging up the system. By the time any dangerous weapons had been brought out, you were out of range and safely on your way back home.

You turned back again to see Poe’s condition had worsened, and at that moment you weren’t sure if he was going to survive the journey, or if you would.

Part 3 is coming soon! Sorry for the long ass wait, the next part won’t take as long to upload. Thank you for the lovely messages as well :* 

Tags as promised: @yana-yana-meow @leilei-draws @jessicaguerreiro07

[ms-znodgrass]

everyone needs saving - poe x reader

In which the reader is Leia’s daughter and Poe’s best friends. It has been years since she set out on a mission to bring Ben home, but never returned. 

A/N: excuse the poor quality and there are some subtle spoilers of TLJ. (creds to gif owner)

It was a still evening, the humidity of plant Zorzon had left an air of lethargy over the base. The red sand lay silent on the ground, no wind was drifting across the planet, no cloud hung low. It was a crystal clear night, stars filled the black void above Poe and Finn as they sat in the hot air. Poe had seemed a little down that evening, perhaps a result of the weather, or the looming battle that hung over everyone's heads. Or perhaps the thought of seeing you sent anger running through his blood. Anger not only at you but at himself, anger for missing you. He let out an exasperated sigh and drank from the glass bottle in his hand. Finn followed suit.

“You gonna talk about it?” He murmured, his dry lips breaking the silence surrounding them both. Poe hadn’t registered Finn’s presence fully, his mind was far too deeply submerged in the memories of his past.

“Hmm?” Poe said, his eyes fixed on the horizon before him. He was recalling that day, that last day.

“This thing that’s making you like this?”

“Like what?”

“All I’m saying is, you’re acting different. You haven’t eaten, haven’t spoken, you’ve been out here for hours whilst everyone’s asleep. If it’s the supposed attack you have no reason to worry,” Finn breathed, quickly glancing at his friends face. Poe’s eyebrows were still furrowed. He wasn’t listening. Finn nudged him, and Poe whipped his head towards the fellow hero of the Rebellion.

“Its not the attack, it’s a girl.”

“Ooh, man I thought it was serious. Come on, Poe Dameron’s panicking over a girl, you could have anyone on this base, Rose overheard a few girls talking and-“

“No. She’s not on this base. She’s a part of the First Order,” Poe interrupted, his cheeks heating up and his balls fisting. Finn, for the first time, was silent. He took a second to reel in the information Poe had just given him, before opening his mouth. But, no words came. “And she’s Leia’s daughter.”

Finns jaw had now dropped, his eyes wide and nostrils flaring. He again tried to speak but only incoherent, high-pitched noises were emitted. “What?” Finn finally exclaimed, his echo reminding him to quieten down. “Leia… Leia has a daughter?” He asked, much quieter this time – not that anyone would hear him considering how far they were situated from the base.

“I knew her well,” Poe replied. A loose curl hung on his forehead, but he didn’t notice. His eyes were still narrow, his jaw tense. If you were there you would’ve held his face in your cool hands, immediately relaxing him. But you weren’t there and hadn’t been for years. “She left before you came. No one knew she was Leia’s daughter in fear the other rebels would assume she had darkness in her heart. But I knew she was like us, I knew but even she didn’t.”

“Why did she leave? To join the dark side?” Finn stretched out his legs and laid back on his elbow, full concentration on Poe.

“No, she left to retrieve her brother. But she never returned. I thought she might be dead but it was heard a couple of months back that she was alive. Fighting on their side. Leia was crushed.”

“What was her name?”

Poe’s head hung low, his hand found its way through his hair, pushing it off of his fair and fisting it in his hand. He looked at Finn, his expression pained as he said; “Y/N.”

“General Organa, Y/N, pilot of A182 is here and is requesting to see you urgently,” a small man said, appearing at the door of the control room. Leia looked around at the few people operating the various holograms before nodding at the guard.

“Send her in,” she said, but the guard didn’t move. Instead he stepped towards the General and quietly rresponded.

“She’s rather upset,” he hushed, looking at her intensely. Leia cleared her throat.

“Everyone out please, I’ll call for you when I need you,” Leia commanded, watching as the three operators in the room exchanged confused glances before following the messenger out of the room. A few sconds later, you appeared with tear staine cheeks and and red cheeks. Youreyes had swollen, evidence of hours of crying. You fell into your mothers’ arms and sobbed.

“General, he has made contact. I heard his voice across the monitor. I heard Ben,” you cried, she held you tightly and threaded he hands through your hair.

“Y/N, hush dear, hush,” she whispered, rocking you from side to side. You shook your head, pulling back and looking at her old, worn eyes. Eyes that held more wisdom than the entire universe.

“Mother, I heard him. Ben. Not the mask, not the metal man. My brother. We can get him back,” you exclaimed in short breaths, wiping your eyes and walking towards the panel. Leias eyes followed you.

“Y/N, what are you doing?”

“I need to find him, I am his sister, we grew up together. I know I can get him back.” You were waving your hands in the air, programming the holo to find his position.

“You’re putting us at risk by trying to track him,” Lia said in a raised voice. “Stop Y/N,” she ordered. You looked up at her, eyes glossy and desperate, eyebrows raised in a plea for help. Her face fell, and she sighed, eyes falling to the ground in disappointment.

“You’ve been speaking using the Force, haven’t you?” She asked sternly, seeing right through you.

“I can’t help it, he’s my brother. He’s powerful mother.”

“You cannot do this Y/N. You are in trouble, he can take you as they took him and I can’t lose another child.” You stepped towards your mother and held her, swallowing hard.

“You will never lose me. But I need to find him.” You hold her at arms length, now watching her. “My commitment to the light side is as strong as my commintment to you. I promise I will return.”

“I cannot let you go. The risks are too high.”

“You must,” you whisper, “I have to do this.”

“I cannot authorise this. I will not elt you g. Any defiance to my orders will be treated as contempt. You will be imprisoned,” she says, now cold.

“He’s your son,” you mumble, eyes narrow, frowning in disgust.

“And you’re my daughter. I must protect you.” You search her face for any signs of doubt or sympathy, but she’s stone cold. She has mastered this expression, you know that now. You look at her for one last time.

“Alright. But promise me you’ll protect him too,” you sigh. Leia looks at you and nods.

“Always.”

“She loved her mother and would never disobey her. But the guilt that she felt for allowing Ben to run away was too much for her to handle. It was her mission to find him and bring him home,” Poe said, walking alongside Finn. The sky was still dark, yet sunlight was threatening to peak over the horizon. They had been walking for a while now, Poe talking through the story of Y/N Solo, the girl who hid in the shadows, until she ran towards them.

“Ben?” Finn queried.

“Kylo Ren.”

“Poe! Poe!” You whispered, shaking his sleeping body. You’d snuck into his room – something you did easily after so many years of practise – and crept onto his bed. You jolted him awake.

“Y/N?! What in the galaxies?” Poe mumbled, half asleep. His hair was strewn across his face, and with a small giggle you ran your fingers through his hair, pushing all the hair from his tired eyes. He sighed, relaxing at your touch. It was your superpower. His hands slid around your waist and pulled you closer. You paused, twisting your torso so that you laid on your back, his head on your stomach. You slowly weaved your hands through his hair, as he hugged your cold body, his hand running up and down your side. It almost tickled, and occasionally your skin twitched under his touch. You watched his peaceful body lie under the sheets and frowned, a small tear escaping your eye. You had gone to his room to tell him of your plans to bring Ben home but you knew he’d disapprove and ore probably tell Leia. He wouldn’t understand your reasons. He wouldn’t understand that you could not be happy until you saw Ben again.

His chest was rising and falling slowly, evenly, and you knew he was asleep. His hand was now settled on your hip, the room silent. Your nervous breaths were all you could hear in the quiet of the night. You took his hand and held it awhile, letting the tear roll down your cheek. Kissing the back of his hand, you slithered out of his tight hold, careful not to wake him. The dark sky and cool air arouse temptation in your head for you to return to Poe’s arms, but the need to see your brother one more time kept you from doing so. You took one last look at Poe, his tanned worn skin, his long nose, his lips, and then ran to the landing strip. Using your key code, you unlocked your x-wing. Sirens and alarms rung throughout the ship, but by the time anyone had stirred, you were gone.

“I hated the following day. Meetings were held, everyone was trying to track the damn ship but we had no luck. She was out of the system before anyone could attempt to locate her,” Poe breathed. Finn was patiently listening to the story, nodding along. Soon they were back at the base, and the red sun had risen over the edge of the planet. “I haven’t seen her in years.”

Finn patted Poe’s back lightly, before taking him in his arms and embracing him. “Dude I’m sorry,” he said, and Poe knew he genuinely meant it. Poe smiled at his friend, placed a hand on his shoulder. 

“Whats done is done,” he muttered with a bittersweet smile. .Poe turned on his heel, but Finn grabbed his arm.

“Is it?” He said, a spark of hope in his eyes. “Come on man, I was a trooper for years but that didn't stop me from betraying the First Order. She might still be in there! Do you know for definite that shes still alive?” “Leia knows she is,” Poe replied, still very much against the idea. 

“Come on Poe! An attack is imminent, be the hero she needs, everyone needs saving sometimes.”

It was the same day that you discovered your powers within the Force, the sun was setting at this point, resting after a long day - which is just what you needed to do, however your racing mind prevented you from doing so. After mentioning the encounter with your mother, you were quickly sworn to silence. No one could know of these abnormal powers, it would be too obvious that you were related to the most dysfunctional family in the universe. You crept out of your bed and walked towards the hanger, opening your jet and taking a seat in the cockpit. As much as you wanted to take the X-wing out for a flight you knew it would be a serious breech of the rules instilled in the Resistance to enforce a professional environment. f only your stature was known, you could do as you like when yu liked. You huffed, watching the other stars glisten above you. One advantage of having your X-wing outside was that you could creep into it at night, which you did often. Most other pilots knew you'd do so, sometimes finding you asleep in your cockpit in the early hours of the morning, So, when you heard footsteps you weren't concerned. 

“I knew you’d be here,” Poe shouted. You sat up in the makeshift chair and peeked out onto the strip. The was Poe Dameron swaggering towards your jet. You rolled your eyes but couldn't help allow the smile to cover your face.After witnessing his near death today, the sight of him caused your heart to swell. 

“Oh look, it’s my damsel in distress,” you sang. 

“You’ll never let me live that down will you?” He asked as his climbed onto the X-wing, squeezing into the cockpit beside you. 

“Oh Poe, everyone needs saving sometimes,”you laughed, moving across so that he had a little more room. You both sat in silence, staring up at the white dots in the sky, you could see Tatooine perfectly from where you were.

“I don’t know what I would do if you were killed,” you breathed, only registering the chill breeze when your breath came out in grey clouds. He looked at you with wide eyes.

“Suddenly getting sentimental, Y/N?” He chuckled. You hit his arm lightly. 

“I’m not joking Poe Dameron,” you sighed, “you mean a lot to me and if you weren’t around I-” 

Your voice croaked, the events of today finally hit you, causing your emotions to sporadically pour out. You looked at Poe with wet eyes, and his heart broke. He brought his large hands to your face and wiped away a stray tear, placing his forehead against yours. You held his hand in yours, thankful to all the stars in the universe that he was next to you. “You don’t have to think about that Y/N, not for a long time.” His lips were so close to yours, and all your eyes could to was stare at them, begging for them to touch yours. Poe thought the exact, and tilted his chin up, his lips almost ghosting over yours.

Beep. Beep. Beep. 

You both jumped, hearing the alarm ring out from the base. A drill. A practise drill. Now of all times. You both groaned, feeling a little uneasy and shocked at what had just unfolded. “We better go,” he whispered, jumping out of your cockpit, you following shortly after. 

Poe’s eyes narrowed and with the picture of your face and lipsin his mind, he said, “let’s do this.”

Part 2? :)

[ms-znodgrass]

Flyboy. Poe Dameron x Mechanic!Reader

Prompt: In which the reader has had a long-term crush on Poe and he finally catches her attention. 

Every day Poe Dameron would return to the cruiser in his fighter jet, hand you his helmet and retreat inside the Resistance cruiser for further briefing.

Every day you would take Poe Dameron’s hat, proceed to modify his fighter jet and finally retreat inside for a further briefing.

Poe Dameron would never see you as a part of his regime, yet your entire morning revolved solely around his training, your afternoon would be spent reflecting on his flying and how to technologically improve it, and your evenings were filled with silent thoughts of him. To say the least, he was your working day.

You had been constantly repeating this same process every day for around two months by the time your patience wore out, and you plucked up the courage to talk to him. It was a terrible morning, a serious asteroid shower had entered the vacuum space in which your team were training. Not one person had expected such an event to occur, and so when it did, the jets were unprepared and the fighters were unsure of what to do or how to manage.

That was until Poe Dameron took control and leads the fighter jets to safety, with no casualties tallied - a miracle considering the severity of the meteoroid shower. It was such a phenomenal performance, yet no other mechanic engineers in your team (which worked solely on his jet) had congratulated him. Your relief and slight excitement was so overwhelming that, when Poe Dameron handed you his white and orange helmet, you couldn’t help but comment.

“Incredible performance Captain,” you blurted out. Poe looked at you (for the first time in two months) and paused.

“Thank you. You know, I never realised you could speak,” he said with a slight grin before heading towards the cruiser as he did every day.

The next morning (after a rather sleepless night) you awoke for your routine the next day, but took a little more care for your appearance. You were just putting on your boots when you noticed a little commotion outside your door. “Y/N! Come on! We’ll miss breakfast,” a male voice yelled from outside your quarters. “I’m coming!”

You once again analysed yourself in the mirror, examining how your orange jumpsuit clung a little tightly to every curve. You smiled as you pulled your hair up into a ponytail, and opened the door to see your friend, Atlas. “Someone looks rather glamorous today, no?” He grinned.

“I woke up a little earlier,” you shrugged.

“Does this have anything to do with your short encounter with Mr Dameron?” Atlas teases, walking alongside with you through the ship, to the canteen where you picked up the small rations that were on offer. “I think not, my bed was a little uncomfortable.”

“I haven’t heard you complain during the last two months of you sleeping in that bed,” he laughed. You rolled your eyes, a small smirk creeping onto your face. “Like you said, we’re going to be late so if I were you I’d eat that quickly,” you retorted, staring at his green eyes sternly before he began to tell you about the newest breakthrough in developing the X-wing engine.

The soft noise of the jet wheels touching the tarmac was like music to your ears, and a signal for your team to head out into the open. So, your squadron all hastily began the lengthy walk towards the landing strip, you engaging in short conversation with your friend, Lexi. Quickly, the engine was turned off and Poe emerged from his pilot seat. Your eyes were the first thing he saw. “So, how was my flying today?”

Your heart momentarily stopped as your brain tried to decipher who he was speaking to. When you realised that your other team members were nowhere to be seen you stuttered a little. “I’d say it was impressive, however not your finest,” you laughed. He rose an eyebrow, a slight sign of perspiration evident on his tanned forehead. His hair sat in soft tousled waves on his head, his white teeth peeking through. “Well…”

“Y/N.”

“Well, Y/N, perhaps you could give me some notes. Walk with me?”

“As much as I’d love to, I’ve got to help my team,” you said softly. He looked at you for a second, before nodding. “Well, Miss Y/N, I hope that you can give me a lesson during your free-time.” This comment sent a burning blush to your cheeks, one which was most probably noticed. “Sure.”

He looked at you once more, before walking towards the cruiser. Your muscles relaxed, and you were finally able to breathe again. “That looked exciting, I think you’ve finally caught Poe Dameron’s eye,” Lexi commented with a small smile.

“What? Don’t be silly.”

“I’m just saying Y/N, I don’t think he’s gonna forget about you anytime soon. Still on for the Celestial later? I think we all need a break after the events of this last week.” You raised an eyebrow in confusion. “Oh yeah I-“

“You hadn’t forgotten, had you? I hear even the pilots may make an appearance,” she winked.

“Oh. No I hadn’t forgotten,” you lied, “I’ll see you there. Besides, I can barely contain my excitement to hear about what happened with you and that Androgax,” you smile, now causing her face to turn bright red. She grimaced before climbing into the fighter jet. “You know, one day I’ll accidentally run you over with this thing,” she said as the windshield came down, and you laughed.

 “The question is, why do they insist on installing HPX drives into every jet when the current ones are working just fine? And how much are they costing the Resistance, huh?” Atlas questioned, his large hands waving around in front of you both as you walked towards the one little bar on the cruiser. The bar was old and dingy, and didn’t really match the conformities of a ‘bar’, but it was still a popular hang-out between colleagues, to eliminate the stress of the previous week. You had just reached the bar when Atlas had finished his rant on today’s briefings.

“Realistically the HPX drives will increase the speed of the radio waves so communication will be far clearer than before, not to mention its ability to re-patch any internal errors regarding the emergency clearance. Only a true genius would insist on the HPX drives being installed, Atlas,” you said, exasperated. By this time Atlas had ordered two rather strong drinks and handed one to you, nodding his head in agreement. He cleared his throat in preparation to retaliate but no words came.

“I’ll take that as a compliment then, Y/N,” a cocky voice said behind you. The look on Atlas’ face spoke volumes. You peered over your shoulder to find Poe leaning against the bar, still in his piloting uniform.

“I’m sorry?” You managed to say, a little taken aback by his raw handsomeness.

“The genius you speak so highly of is me, I persuaded the committee to update the drive and rewrite the programming,” he smiled, flashing those white teeth you’d grown accustomed to every day.

“Hardly a torturous obstacle for a pilot of your stature.”

“A pilot who needed notes?” He sighed, placing his glass and standing up straight, feigning disappointment. You laughed. And smiled. Soon you found that smiling around Poe came as a guarantee, an uncontrollable habit.

“Surely some constructive criticism wouldn’t go amiss for the inter-galactically famous Poe Dameron?”

“I’m beginning to think you idolise me, Y/N,” he smirked, looking down at your warm cheeks and rosy lips.

“You don’t know the half of it,” Atlas murmured before taking a sip of his drink. You managed to elbow him in the ribs which caused his giggling to halt rather quickly. “What was that?” Poe said.

“Nothing! Nothing,” you said, in a calmer tone the second time. “I’m just going to step into the Atrium if you’d care to join me?” You proposed in a desperate plea to keep him as far from Atlas as possible.

“Sure,” he laughed, finishing the contents of his glass and following you to the indoor garden. The scent of wild petunia’s and roses hit your noses as you both stepped into the glass dome, the colour of the exotic plants comforting your eyes and reminding you both that this galaxy is not just filled with war and rage, but beauty. A moment of silence encompassed you both as you walked side-by-side around the various parts of the atrium. It was silent, only a quiet nose of grasshopper’s echoed around the glass walls. This was where you’d come for inspiration when struggling to find a new concept for a fighter jet, in fact, the majority of your ideas for new X-wing parts came from the beauty and intricacy of the flowers sprouting from the flowerbeds.

“This is my favourite place on this cruiser,” you thought aloud.

“I can understand why. I’ve never had the pleasure of coming in here, I only knew it existed a couple of weeks ago,” he breathed, his strong build only adding to the beauty of the greenhouse. You raised your eyebrows in surprise.

“I could not care less if one of our landing strips would be hit by some kind of blaster, but I’d be heartbroken to witness this being destroyed,” you laughed, “stupid, isn’t it?”

As you turned your head up to witness Poe’s response, you saw he was already staring at you, with a hint of awe in his eyes. “You surprise me, Y/N,” he said, taking a seat on a marbled bench that was a few feet ahead of you.

“And how’s that?”

“Because you work with machines and engines and technology all day, but all it takes to entertain you is a flower.” You rolled your eyes in response to his witty comment, taking a seat next to him.

“And yet you fight the First Order and embark on secret missions but it only takes a walk around some flowers to take your breath away,” you grinned, now suddenly aware of just how close you were to Poe Dameron, and how close your fingers were to his.

“Perhaps it’s not the setting, but the company,” he smoothly replied, a warm look on his sun-worn face. His eyes seemed half closed. A content glare. One which seemed to be growing ever so closer, and maybe it was the small amount of alcohol or the months of having to wait for a moment like this, but you didn’t hesitate to maintain a safe distance. You allowed yourself to edge closer to his face until his cold nose softly touched yours. He brought his hands up to your face and twisted his body so that his torso faced you, his thumb lightly tracing your bottom lip. And finally, after what felt like minutes, he brought your lips towards his and kissed you, so lightly and sweetly that it almost felt as if he’s just air, a ghost. And as you fisted your hands around the collar of his jacket, closing whatever small distance separated you, an alarm rung out through the entire cruiser. Three rings, indicating an attack has been made on the cruiser. You groaned quietly in frustration, causing him to chuckle. “And to think, I don’t even know the half of it,” he laughed, forehead touching yours. Before you could make another witty reply he stood up. “Gotta run, flowergirl.”