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something-tofightfor · 4 years

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Magnetic: Chapter 3 - The Mandalorian

Pairing: The Mandalorian x You (Sort of. You meet him.) (female reader insert; no ‘Y/N’)

Word count: 6,635

Rating: None necessary.

Summary: Your journey across the galaxy to meet the Mandalorian with Grogu is well underway - but what will you find when you reach Nevarro and come face to helmet with him for the first time? ... And where will you go from there?

Author’s note:

Check out the earlier parts of this story by visiting my Masterlist

Here we go! I know the first couple chapters have been build up, but ... it kicks in here. Thank you all so much for reading this one and sending messages and leaving comments. I can’t wait for you to see what’s coming. I’m still adding people to the tag list, so if you want on ... LMK.

* Cara Dune is mentioned in this chapter and in future chapters, but the only physical detail I mention is her hair (I think) - so just imagine her as someone else if you need to. I get the controversy over the actress, but I love the character and she needed to be there because Reader needs another female to speak to about Mando that’s going to tell it like it is.*

(banner made by @malionnes)

For the third morning in a row, you were curled up on the floor in the cargo hold of the light freighter transporting you from the Academy’s planet to Nevarro. Your destination was a barren planet located smack dab in the center of the Ash Worlds sector, and you’d never been so far from home.

It was a long trip, even traveling through hyperspace, and you were growing anxious. But it’s the last day. You sighed, stretching out, and were surprised to see that Grogu wasn’t next to you anymore. I wonder where he… But you figured it out quickly, following the sounds of laughter into the cockpit, where the child was sitting in the copilot’s seat, staring out the front window of the ship and into space. “You’re not bothering Terys, are you, kid?” He turned his head up and toward you and the woman laughed, shaking hers.

“He’s not. He climbed in here all on his own, but he’s just been sitting and watching.”Good. You weren’t uncomfortable on the ship, but were looking forward to stretching your legs when you landed, breathing fresh air and figuring out what came next.For both of us. “We’ll be dropping out of hyperspace in about an hour, and then it’s only a few more from there. We made good time.”

“No, Terys, you made good time.” Sliding around the seat, you reached down, picking Grogu up and settling him in your lap, facing forward. ‘I’m surprised they let you pilot us out here, I’m sure you have so much more to do, you’re the -”

“I wanted to.” She turned her head toward yours, a mischievous look in her eyes. “Never seen a real Mandalorian before.” You laughed at that, feeling her excitement, though you’d been practicing keeping yourself more closed off in preparation for meeting him yourself. You’d told Grogu what you were doing, telling him that you didn’t want to overhear anything you weren’t supposed to, but he wrapped his fingers around yours, squeezing. Harder with beskar.

You hadn’t even considered that. Beskar was exceedingly rare, and the only time you’d seen it in person was when you’d handled the pendant Grogu wore around his neck; gleaming silver in the shape of a Mythosaur. You knew it was strong, knew that it was valuable, and also knew that the Mandalorian was covered in it, mainly as a result of the spoils of his assignment to find and return Grogu in the first place. But Grogu could read him, at least partially, because he … “You might not even see one this time, Terys. He might not be there when we land, there could be delays, or -”

“Master Skywalker sent a transmission. He’ll be there, he’s already landed.” You couldn’t help smiling at the thought that within a few hours, Grogu would be reunited with the man, and your adventure would begin. “I’m going to land the ship and head into the town with you, spend the night, refuel, and then leave tomorrow. There has to be a reason I’m there, so I can’t just touch down and then take off.” She was right - but you didn’t reply right away, focusing on Grogu, who was babbling away on your lap, one hand clutching the pendant, the other resting on your forearm. Keeping yourself occupied, kid? “He … they trust you, but I’m supposed to make sure that -”

“That the kid’s safe, right?” You looked down. “I get it. He’s important, and he’s … it makes sense.” You knew that once you left the ship, you’d need to keep it with you at all times, but your lightsaber was tucked into your bag, along with your cloak and the few other things you’d brought from the Academy. Essentials, you thought. Packed light, just like he … Since you didn’t know how long you’d be gone, you’d cleaned out your quarters, storing everything you didn’t take in one of the unused lower rooms. You carried more credits in your bag than you ever had before in your life, and you knew that Grogu also had his fair share tucked away, packed by someone else while you took care of everything you needed to. “Gotta make sure everyone’s who they say they are, right?”

“Yeah.” Terys settled back in her chair, rotating it slightly toward you. “Marshal on the planet’s name is Cara Dune, I’ve been in contact with her, and she -” But you widened your eyes, looking down at Grogu. Cara! Your friend! You bounced him on your lap a few times, hearing the sound of his laughter. “She’s excited to see him again, I guess she was there when Master Skywalker found Grogu.” Of course she was.

It was fuzzy, because he’d been groggy, but Grogu’s memories were filled with the people that had been on the ship - and in the room with him - when he first met Luke and the shiny blue and white droid that rarely left the man’s sight. You knew their names and faces well, knew how he felt about each of them, and were ready to meet them yourself, if given the chance. “Who wouldn’t be excited to see him, hmm?” Grogu’s grip on your arm suddenly tightened, and you went quiet, thinking. Use the fresher, change clothes, get Grogu ready. You knew you had time, but you were restless after waking, and weren’t ready to eat. Go. Fine here. He was making noises again, turning on your lap, and only a few seconds later, Grogu was looking up at you, hands hanging at his sides. “What?” He blinked slowly, tilting his head, but Grogu didn’t reply - and you didn’t catch a single one of his thoughts.

---

The drop from hyperspace hadn’t been as sudden as you thought it would be, and by the time you’d begun the landing process, you were giddy with excitement. Everything’s new. Everything is … I’ve never done any of this before. Grogu was in his floating cradle in the cockpit, giving you the opportunity to gather all of your things together, but you were somewhat concerned with how quiet he was. You ok, kid? Pausing as you loaded the bags next to the ramp, you concentrated on him. You’re quiet. Fine. There was a pause. Scared. Dropping the last bag, you quickly went back to where he and Terys were, scooping him out of the container and sitting down again, strapping yourself in. Why are you scared? Been too long. “Oh, Grogu.” You dropped your head, kissing the top of his, and saw that Terys was pointedly trying to ignore the two of you, hands on the navigational equipment as she guided the ship toward the planet. What if -

You could feel that he was nervous, the apprehension making his tiny body rigid. Oh, no. You have nothing to worry about. He’s gonna be so happy to see you. He relaxed - slightly - and you continued to think, keeping your eyes forward. He’s your dad, kid. He loves you. He missed you. You’ll see. He didn’t answer back, and though you couldn’t hear his actual thoughts, you realized that you could still feel his emotions. You hiding from me now? A single word came back - the force of it surprising you. Yes. Well fine, then. You kissed the top of his head again, holding back a smile. I didn’t want to know what you were thinking anyway. He laughed at that, and you watched Terys turn her head toward you, smiling too. “You talking to him?”

“Yeah.” You sighed, eyes still on the planet in front of you as it came into focus. You were beneath the clouds, but high enough to keep you well above the jagged peaks of the arid landscape below you, and it was unlike anything you’d expected. There aren’t any trees, there’s nowhere to… The planet that the Academy was on wasn’t as forested as your home planet, but this was a drastic difference from both. Instead of trees and water, you saw only scrubby brush and cracked, dry ground - presumably from the lava fields you knew ran across the planet. There’s water somewhere, though. Otherwise … “Yeah, it’s easier to think sometimes, just makes the conversation go faster, you know?” She nodded in agreement. “I’m so used to just thinking when I’m with him, not having to speak, and it’s going to take some getting used to since the Mandalorian isn’t …”

“I’ve heard they’re hard to handle.” Terys pressed a few buttons above her head and the ship began descending slowly. “Especially this one. He’s got a reputation. People don’t … people don’t cross him.” You stayed silent, waiting. “And how that he’s King of Mandalore? People talk. I hear a lot when I fly between planets, and I think that between the two of them?” She gestured to Grogu with one hand. “You’re gonna have your hands full.” Considering her words, you rolled your eyes.

“I’m not here to have my hands full of anything except this little one.” You tightened your hold on Grogu briefly. “The Mandalorian is an -”

“He’s waiting for us.” She paused. “Well, for the two of you.” Squinting your eyes, you saw that she was right, and you felt your heart rate increase. “Looks like there’s a couple speeders, too. At least we won’t have to walk.” You locked your eyes on the single figure in the distance, watching as it grew larger by the second. There he is, kid. Grogu grew restless as you got closer, and by the time you were able to see the sunlight glinting off the top of his helmet, he was struggling to get off of your lap, the sounds coming out of his mouth a combination of frustration and excitement.

“Hey, buddy. Hang on.” You tried to comfort him, even though you knew it was useless, and as soon as you felt the gentle thump of the landing gear making contact with the planet’s surface, you were unbuckled and out of your seat, heading for the door. “I think we can leave the bags for now, and maybe his carriage too. We’ll get it all later.” Down. Down. Down. Terys’ reply was lost in Grogu’s high pitched squeals, and with a short laugh, you crouched down, setting his feet on the floor and tugging his robe - the one he’d come to the Academy in - back into place. “Please be careful. The last thing I want is for you to trip and fall, and for him to think -” I’m fine. He shuffled closer to the ramp, and before you could say anything else, it began to lower, the hot, dry air rushing in.

Grogu moved as soon as he could, following the ramp as it descended, you only a few steps behind him. You’d never seen him move so quickly, and even though you wanted to call out to him, telling him to slow down, you didn’t, hanging back and crossing your arms over your chest as you followed his footsteps through the dirt and dust toward the Mandalorian. He’d moved too, in the time that it took you to land and settle in, and you figured that the man was only twenty yards away from the ship - but you didn’t focus on him, instead watching Grogu’s path. Go get him, kid.

He wasn’t yelling; instead, as he moved, he made a noise you’d never heard before, a series of coos and warblings that rose in volume the closer he got. Close your mind. You let out a deep breath, reminding yourself that you weren’t here to listen to others - there was no reason to - and you didn’t want to intrude on their reunion.

When Grogu was only a few yards away, you finally glanced up, watching as the Mandalorian’s cape fluttered in the breeze, the man dropping to one knee and holding an arm out. “Grogu.” You didn’t need to read his mind to know what he was thinking; it was perfectly clear in the single, heavily modulated word, the last syllable catching in his throat. The child’s head barely reached the man’s knee level, but he kept his arms stretched out, ears flapping with each step as the final gap was closed. You felt the moment that they made contact with each other; a blindingly joyful reunion, and your lips parted, one hand reaching up to cover them as your teeth dug into the muscle between your thumb and forefinger, not wanting to make any noise. Oh, stars.

The Mandalorian stood after gathering Grogu into his arms, and you finally took a few more steps closer when you saw the child reach up with both hands, fingertips touching either side of the helmet as the man lowered his forehead toward the child’s. He’s so tiny. He’s never looked this small before. They stayed like that for long moments, heads bowed together, and though it was brief, you saw the shake of the heavily armored shoulders, the rise and fall of the man’s chest as he took in deep breaths. How it should be. This is … “Thank you.” You sucked in a breath, hand dropping to your side as the Mandalorian straightened up, tilting his head to the side and looking in your direction around Grogu’s head as he said your name. “For bringing him ho… here.”

“Of …” You swallowed hard, moving closer. “Of course. I’m more than happy to…” Glancing between the two of them, you watched as he shifted Grogu effortlessly into the crook of his elbow, the kid facing you once more. “And look how happy he is. Totally worth it.” The man glanced down at Grogu and then back at you, wordlessly. “Right, kid?” His ears down, Grogu only looked at you for a few seconds before he stared back up at the man holding him, his grip on the gloved fingers and forearm tightening.

“Your things, are they on the -” You heard the tightness in his voice, the man hesitating when he spoke. “Are his -” He doesn’t want to do this now, he just wants …

“They are.” You gestured toward the speeders, noticing that only one was a single rider. “But go.” He cocked his head slightly, waiting. “Terys - the pilot - and I will load everything. Take him and go back into town. You guys have some catching up to do. You need some privacy.” The Mandalorian shifted on his feet and then turned, taking two steps toward one of the speeders before he glanced back over his shoulder, the side profile of his helmet almost more intimidating than looking at it head on.

“There’s a small cantina, next to the inn?” You acknowledged the words. “Go there after you’ve settled into your room, I’ll… we’ll meet you there.” That isn’t enough time for you.

“Mandalorian?” You finally spoke, willing your voice not to shake. “Take your time. How about … I’ll meet you at sundown? That’s a few hours from now.” He didn’t answer, and you spoke again, reaching up to rub at your outer bicep, your skin warm and dry beneath your fingers from only a few minutes in the bright sunlight. “There’s no rush.” You didn’t think that he would speak again, but he surprised you and did, after giving you a single nod and then turning his head to face forward, toward the arch leading into town.

“No, there isn’t.” Staying in place, you watched as he carefully loaded Grogu into one of the side bags, tightening the straps to make sure he didn’t fall out. Starting the speeder, the Mandalorian took off in the opposite direction - without looking back. Bye, kid. See you soon.

“Well that was something.” Startled, you spun back around toward your ship, seeing that Terys was standing a few feet behind you, both hands on her hips and her eyes following the plume of dust from behind the moving speeder. “Guess we’re on our own?” She was amused, you could hear it in her voice and see it written on her face, but she wasn’t mad. She still didn’t get to meet him.

“They needed time. And obviously, this is … he planned this. We’re close enough that we didn’t need the speeders, but he…” You felt yourself smile and you looked down at the ground, nodding. “He did this for Grogu.” You had seen countless memories of riding speeders from Grogu’s point of view; the landscape flying by, almost able to feel the wind against your skin. “It’s fine. We don’t have much to load, and that speeder’s plenty big enough for both of us.” You turned to face her, a wide smile on your lips. “I’ll buy you a drink once we get into town and get our rooms.”

“Deal.”

---

A few hours later, you and Terys were sitting at a table in the corner of the small cantina, cups of ale in front of you. You’d already eaten, and though the food on the ship wasn’t bad, it was nice to have a freshly prepared meal in your stomach, something both of you agreed on. “How is it, for you?” She lifted her cup to her mouth, taking a long drink. “Are places like this worse than the Academy, because everyone’s just -” I didn’t … no. You blinked, realizing that even though there were plenty of people in the room, their thoughts weren’t overwhelming you. “Actually …” You took a drink of your own, eyes moving over the others gathered in the space. “When I was in training, before I stopped?” She nodded, waiting. “One of the Masters told me that everything depends on how … prevalent, I guess, the Force is.” Explain it better. “It doesn’t matter how many people there are somewhere, because it’s everywhere, it just… there are certain places in the galaxy where it’s stronger, where more people … are aware of it?” You stopped. “I’ve never really explained it before, because I’ve only really been a few places for longer than a few days at a time. But it’s not as strong here, so I can sort of feel what people are thinking, but I’d have to really concentrate to hear them clearly. At the Academy, I have to actively close myself off just to keep myself from overloading sometimes.” It had taken time, but as the months passed, you found it easier. People still get through, like Bari, but … “Since everyone there is… at a different level, I guess? When it comes to using the Force? Some people can keep their thoughts from me on their own, and others … can’t.”

“That makes sense.” She chewed on her lower lip. “Can you still feel Grogu here, though? Wouldn’t it be dangerous to send you off knowing that, if - “

“I can. I can always feel him.” You took another drink, the liquid cold against your throat. “And I think it’s because we’ve been so close for the last year. But like I said, I’d have to really work to have a conversation with him at this distance in a place like this.” Luke and the other Masters were much more knowledgeable than you, and you figured that they knew what they were doing sending the two of you off. If it was dangerous, it wouldn’t have happened. “It’s good, though, it gives him … them privacy. And they deserve that.”

“They’re here.” She widened her eyes. “Listen.” You did, not understanding at first, but then you got it. The room had gone almost silent at the entrance of the Mandalorian and Grogu, who was once again nestled in his floating carriage, which you and Terys had dropped off at the inn’s counter. He’s got a history here, but they’re … they’re afraid of him. You turned in your seat, making eye contact with Grogu, who peered over the edge of his carrier, waving at you. Hi, you. “I don’t know why I’m so nervous,” Terys whispered. “It’s not like ... “ Not like what?

Others would likely have felt at a disadvantage if they were suddenly unable to read the room entirely, but it was almost a blessing to you. Sensing the emotions of those around you, you could handle. But constantly hearing their thoughts at random? I’m glad for the break. The Mandalorian stopped next to your table, and out of instinct, you reached for Grogu with both hands, freezing as you realized that you didn’t have to. Oh, I … Fighting back a frown, you winked at the kid instead, lowering both palms to the tabletop. This is going to take some getting used to. “Can I sit?” His words surprised you, but you didn’t hesitate.

“You don’t need to ask permission.” You looked up, shrugging your shoulders as your eyes landed on the darkened T-shape of his visor. “This is more your town than mine.”

“It’s not.” He lowered himself into the seat with more agility than you would have thought possible for someone covered in so much beskar, hands resting on his lap. “Not … not anymore.” Slowly, the conversation in the room began again, but the Mandalorian didn’t speak, and neither did you, instead turning your attention back to Grogu, who’d settled down, head turning back and forth between you and the man.

Unsure of how to fill the silence, you glanced at Terys, who shrugged, and then back at Grogu. “Have you eaten, kid? We can order you something.”

“We did.” The modulated voice came again, the Mandalorian’s head angling down toward the carriage. “I don’t know when he usually -”

“Set mealtimes, but he snacks a lot.” You admitted it, finally reaching for Grogu and rubbing your thumb over the back of his hand. “I’m sure you know how much he loves eating.” He does. It was a relief to hear Grogu’s thoughts again, even after only a few hours, and even moreso to hear how relaxed he sounded. “Can’t blame him though, he’s really busy all day, so -” You saw the Mandalorian lean back in his seat, your gaze rising from Grogu to the man. Oh, I should introduce … “This is Terys, by the way. She’s our pilot, and -”

“You made good time.” He spoke directly to the woman without addressing her, and even though you couldn’t see his eyes, you knew by the shift of his head’s position that he was looking at her - or at the very least, was looking in her direction. “Have you flown to Nevarro before?”

“N-no.” She straightened up, the tremor in her voice audible. “Flown a lot of places, but mostly mid and inner-rim lately. I used to exclusively fly in the Core, but …” She lifted her cup again, gesturing with it. “Things change.”

“They do.” His tone gave nothing away, and you found yourself leaning slightly toward him, just watching. “Fast.” You wondered how quickly his life moved in his mind, what it felt like to be the man, how much he thought about all of the changes that had taken place throughout his lifetime. Ask. Your attention snapped back to Grogu in surprise. No way. You glanced at the Mandalorian and then back at the child. I wouldn’t ever.

“So.” Terys cleared her throat, still holding her cup in one hand. “You know Nevarro well?” She was focused on the Mandalorian, her eyes on his helmet. “I hear it’s changed a lot in the -”

“It has.” You looked up and toward the source of the new voice. “I’m Cara Dune, Marshal of Nevarro for the New Republic.” She stuck out her hand and you reached up to shake it, grinning at the woman. Pulling her hand from yours, she gave Terys a quick nod but didn’t offer to shake her hand, instead leaning over and scooping Grogu out of his carriage, lifting him up as she squealed in happiness, his arms waving. The Mandalorian followed the movement with a subtle shift of his body, the lower edge of his helmet engled upward. “Oh, you little womp rat, you got big.” Cara moved to the other side of the man, sitting on the bench seat and keeping Grogu close. “Wanted to come see you earlier, but I got told no and so did Karga. He’ll be here soon, it’ll be like -” She glanced at the Mandalorian, wrinkling her nose as Grogu’s fingers closed around a loose lock of her hair. “Like old times.”

“Karga’s coming? Tonight?” The Mandalorian let out a breath. “Dank farrik. I thought -”

“He wouldn’t miss it, Mando.” Cara tweaked Grogu’s nose with her fingers and then leaned over, placing him back atop his blankets. “You know how he is. Plus I thought -”

“I do.” It was only two words, but you heard the finality in them. “Can I … talk to you?” He swiveled his head toward you, one gloved hand landing on the tabletop. “Outside?” Though confused at the abrupt shift in conversation, you nodded and then stood, draining the rest of your drink and telling Terys to order you another if she wanted. He stepped away from the table and you followed the Mandalorian back through the cantina, trying to ignore the looks you got from the other patrons. Once outside, you glanced up at the slowly darkening sky, smiling at the sun setting in the distance as you walked next to the Mandalorian, headed slowly in the direction of the ships. “I wanted to talk to you.” I figured, otherwise… But you stopped yourself, realizing that you needed to disregard everything you assumed about the man, waiting for him to reveal the truth to you.

“That’s probably a good idea, since we’ll be in … well, since we’ll both …” The Mandalorian stopped suddenly, turning his entire body toward you. His hands hung at his sides, and you stared at him, waiting. You noticed the blaster at his hip, the bandolier across his chest, a smaller one secured around his boot. He would have been imposing without the ammunition, but it added to the overall effect - you knew it and he knew it, though you didn’t think he considered it much. It’s just his life.

“I’ve heard about you.” He paused. “About people like you, that can … like him, like Ahsoka.” You waited for him to continue, and after a few seconds, he did. “I know Grogu can talk with you, but Skywalker also warned me … can you read my mind?” It was blunt, but you appreciated the candor from him. “Do you know what -”

“Can I try?” It was bold of you, but you knew that sometimes, the non-Force sensitive could feel when you were listening to them, and you didn’t want to shock him if that was the case. “You might feel a -”

“Yes.” Turning your attention toward the Mandalorian, you looked again at the visor, thinking. Wait.

“If there’s anything you don’t want me to know, try to … not think of it. It’s… Sometimes I just see everything, and I…” You swallowed. “I know that your name isn’t something you give freely. I know that to see your face is … unacceptable.” He straightened his shoulders. “Grogu’s … I know he’s seen your face, and he’s kept it from me this whole time, even without me asking, so you don’t have to …” He stood still in front of you, and when he didn’t speak, you lowered your head, sighing. “Alright. Anyway.” You brought your eyes back up and looked at his head again, focusing.

You could feel the man’s presence when you concentrated, a low, thrumming energy, and you realized that he was tightly coiled, though his posture didn’t betray him. He’s always ready, he’s always on edge, and he’s … You felt that he was relieved, too, but there were no solid thoughts, nothing in focus. Frowning, you took a deeper breath, still eyeing him, and even though you picked up on some of the people around you, you couldn’t get a read on the Mandalorian. “Well?”

“I …” You lifted a hand, head shaking back and forth. “Can I touch your arm? Or maybe your hand? Even through the glove, it …” He didn’t move for long seconds, but then he lifted his right arm from his side, turning his palm up toward you. You didn’t hesitate, reaching up and placing your hand flat atop his and closing your eyes in concentration. The emotions were stronger, and you sensed more anxiety, discontent deep within the man, but still no clear words or thoughts except - “Grogu.” You opened your eyes, pulling your hand back. “All I can … I can feel you, but … the only thing I know you’re thinking about is the kid. I think it’s the beskar, it interferes with …” You chewed on your lip. “Your thoughts are safe, Mandalorian. I’ll be … the stronger your emotions, the more likely I am to feel them, but I… oh, stars, it’s going to be amazing traveling with you. The kid’s trying to hide more of his thoughts from me. I can’t read you. It’s going to be silent for once, and I won’t have to -”

“I thought of him every day.” His voice was quieter than it had been. “I promised him I’d see him again, but part of me thought …” His arms were crossed over his chest, head turned to the side. “I … thought -”

“Well he’s here now. And he will be for a while. I’ll try to keep out of your way as much as possible. This trip isn’t about me, and I don’t want -”

“He needs you.” The Mandalorian’s helmet was facing forward again. “You’re here because he needs you. I saw you reach for him earlier, and then stop. You don’t have to do that.” I do. I do, because he’s not …

“If you say so.” You shrugged, deciding to follow his lead. “Did you bring me out here just to make sure that I couldn’t read your thoughts? Or -” He chuckled, or at least you thought he did, and then went quiet again.

“You aren’t afraid of me.” It wasn’t a question, but he didn’t give you a chance to reply before he continued. “I’m glad. But … why? Have you met other -”

“No, you’re my first Mandalorian.” You rubbed a hand against your cheek, looking down and then back up. “But the kid, he … he’s told me a lot about you, and I guess… he trusts you. So I do, too.”

“Trust is earned.” The Mandalorian said your name, taking a half step closer and ducking his head slightly. “It has to be. Otherwise it means nothing.” He was right, but you were steadfast in your resolve, at least on your end. I have no reason not to trust you. Luke wouldn’t have sent us here if there was reason to doubt you. “Then I hope to earn yours.” You smiled at him, reaching up to push hair behind your ear. “Also, I … I know I asked if I could call you ‘Mandalorian’, but I didn’t even consider … you’re the Mand’alor, so should I call you that instead? I don’t want to -” The last thing you wanted to do was offend him, so you figured getting things out into the open as quickly as possible was the best call.

“You can call me Mando.” He straightened up, and you watched him look around at the still busy street. “When we get back to Mandalore, that may change, depending on …” He stopped. “But we aren’t going back to Mandalore right away.” We’re not? But I thought … “Meeting on Nevarro wasn’t just because it was convenient. I’m here to …” Eyes widening, you glanced down as you felt him growing excited, the anxiety slipping back slightly. Oh, he’s here to… “I didn’t want to talk about it in front of the pilot, because it’s not her concern, but …”

“You’re here for bounty pucks.” You whispered the words, feeling your own heart rate increase. “But I thought you wanted to spend time with -”

“I do.” He sighed again. “If we go back to Mandalore right away, I won’t get to … when I’m there, things are … more political.” Of course they are, you’re the King, and you’re expected to … “But here, or up there?” He pointed toward the sky. “It… isn’t.”

“I understand.” You did, and hoped that he knew you were telling the truth. “And he hunted with you before, so…” You shrugged again. “You’ll keep him safe, Mando.” Saying it for the first time, you felt the sound of it pull at your lips before you smiled again, closing your eyes.

“No.” Your eyes reopened, head cocked to the side in question as he stared at you. “We will.”

---

After returning inside, you’d gone back to your table, sliding back in and lifting the new drink, toasting with Cara and Terys, the Mandalorian again leaning back in his seat silently. By the time Karga arrived, clapping a hand down onto the other man’s shoulder and introducing himself loudly to you and the pilot, you were feeling more at ease than you’d ever felt out with the others from the Academy. It’s because there’s no pressure. I don’t owe any of these people anything, aside from Grogu, and … it feels good.

Cara and Terys stepped away to play darts, leaving you, Mando, Karga and Grogu at the table, the little one climbing out of his cradle and toddling over the bench to the second man, climbing into his lap and settling there for a few minutes, the newcomer welcoming him excitedly. He really does have friends here. You smiled at the sight, introducing yourself and striking up a conversation with the man while Mando again sat back, letting the two of you talk. It hadn’t taken long for Grogu to climb from Karga’s lap and into his father’s, and even as you continued your conversation, you saw the man’s gloved hand rise, his thumb stroking over the top curve of the kid’s ear. He doesn’t even realize he’s doing it.

Grogu nodded off after only a few minutes, but Mando made no move to put him back into the cradle, instead asking Karga directly for the discussed pucks, one hand curled protectively around the kid’s body. “She knows. I told her earlier. You don’t need to hide them.”

“I don’t need the Jedi on my tail.” Karga eyed you. “You won’t -”

“I’m not a Jedi. And it’s not like I’m checking in with them daily, either.” You shrugged, finishing your drink. “You don’t get a reputation like his without being good at what you do. As long as they know the kid’s ok, they don’t need anything else.” You looked at the Mandalorian, giving him another smile. “And you don’t have to worry about me saying anything about what he does, or what you do.”

“His reputation?” Karga laughed. “I have one too, you know.” But he was still smiling, reaching into his deep pocket and pulling out a handful of the pucks, quickly stacking them and sliding them toward the man that sat to your left. “Five of them to start. You know the rules. I picked mid-tier, just to -”

“That’s fine. Standard payment?” Karga nodded. “Good.” He reached for the stack, picking it up and glancing at the discs before reaching down and securing them in one of his waist pouches without flipping through them. “We -”

“So, Mandalorian.” Terys was back at the table, Cara a few steps behind her. “What -”

“Terys, stop.” You whispered the words, reaching forward to touch her arm. “You don’t -” You could feel the interest rolling off of her, and you were irritated that you hadn’t picked up on it earlier. She wants to go to bed with him, that’s… “You’ve had too -”

“I have not.” She cleared her throat and you watched as Grogu was shifted from the Mandalorian’s lap and back into his cradle, the sides closing with a few punches of the buttons on his vambrance. “I just know what I want.” I tried. She dropped back into her seat and propped her head on her hand, eyes bright. “You’re a man under there, right? So you -”

You watched as Cara’s eyebrows rose and she turned away from the table, headed for the bar, Karga not far behind her. Oh, boy. How do I … “I’m not… interested.” His voice was even, but you heard no emotion in it, the Mandalorian’s visor pointed directly at the pilot. “It wouldn’t … no.” She pouted for a few seconds, and you took the opportunity to stand, looking down at where the man still sat.

“I’ll see you in the morning? Which ship is yours, I can meet you there.” You glanced at the carriage. “We -” The Mandalorian’s attention shifted to you; the whole upper half of his body turning along with his head.

“I’ll need to unlink his carriage, otherwise -” What? No.

“He’s staying with you tonight, Mando.” You gave him a gentle smile. “Not me.” You watched the set of his arms tighten, keeping the smile on your face. “So just tell me -”

“But you said he comes to your room at night. What if he wakes up and -”

“He won’t.” You were sure of it. “If he wakes up, he’ll know you’re there, and won’t even try to find me.” He doesn’t need me anymore. You caught Cara’s eye and the woman tilted her head toward the door, one eyebrow raised. I’m trying. “Goodnight, Mando.” Holding a hand out toward Terys, you laughed again, helping her to her feet. “Let’s get you to bed. You’re gonna need sleep to fly out tomorrow.”

As the woman stepped around the table, she reached out with one hand, settling it on the Mandalorian’s shoulder briefly. He stiffened immediately, but you doubted the stumbling woman noticed. He doesn’t like to be touched unexpectedly. Good to know. “I’m in room 5 if you change your mind.” But she let you lead her from the bar, and you waved goodbye to the other two before stepping out into the darkness of the street. “You shoulda helped me. Did you see the size of him? He would have -”

“You just met him, you can’t expect…” But the woman laughed, the two of you headed back for the inn, and though it was only a few steps away, it seemed to take forever. It’s a good thing we aren’t sleeping on the ship.

“He’s a bounty hunter turned King, he has to live in the moment.” She sighed and unlocked her door. “Maybe he’ll show up.” Yeah, I doubt that. “Could you read him?” She leaned in the doorway, frowning. “What’s going on in that head of his? Could you see what he looks like under there?”

“I don’t know. I couldn’t really see anything.” You wrinkled your nose. “And I have no idea. I don’t want to.” That’s a lie. “Goodnight. I’ll see you before we go our separate ways tomorrow.” She closed the door and you walked to your room, locking the door behind you and laying down on the bed without even changing. There’s no point. I’m just …

Stretching out, you realized how exhausted you were - and how much you appreciated the small but soft mattress. Back onto a ship tomorrow. Hopefully there’s a bench large enough for me. Sighing, you closed your eyes, replaying the day - and your interactions with everyone on Nevarro - in your mind. What a busy few hours. But that night, you dreamed about the man’s eyes again - and this time, you could see the skin at the outside corners of them - both sides deeply creased, as if he was smiling.

---

Magnetic/Din Djarin Tag List:

@the-blind-assassin-12 @pheedraws @alraedesigns @malionnes @deceiverofgodss @thisisparadisemylove @siegfriedkingsglaive @valkblue @hehe-oof @jynrumbly

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nightowlfandom · 4 years

Text

Bully! Park Jimin- I’m Your Devil (DIRRRRTTYY)

So...I got a new computer and I have no clue how to screenshot on it as of now...and tbh I don’t feel like figuring out how. SO I’m gonna be experimenting with some layouts but until then you just have these annoying announcements.

Anyways, ANON ASKS 🧑🏿‍🎤 🧑🏿‍🎤 🧑🏿‍🎤 (you know who you are wink wink)

may I request a really aggressive schoolbully!jimin / sadistic!jimin smut inspired by the songs daddy issues, into it, and the hills :)

Y’all some masochists but I ain’t mad.

Just know ya worth and if anyone treats you like this in real life, punch them in the balls. That being said, This is also LOOOONG. I didn’t plan for it to be but yeah. ALSO I GOT YOUR OTHER ASK SO I GOT CHU. I’m not sure if this is good but I hope I did you justice.

Reader who isn’t a virgin, really mean bully man, more foreplay than actual smut lol sorry, touch of diet-angst

Leggo.

...

“Okay class, what do you think the author was trying to say when she was describing her relationship with Damien?”

You sat at your desk, chin propped up in your hand as you gazed off longingly into space. This was one of the rare times you decided to pay attention because your class was reading your favorite book. “The Young Devil” (Completely made up lol).

“She’s obviously a broken woman if she thinks Damien is ever gonna change his ways. She’s a stiff.” a comment made you practically fall forward. You turned your head to find the culprit of who said such a thing about your favorite character. “Anyways, she’s too safe. She couldn’t handle his issues.”

“Well maybe if Damien made an effort to open himself up, Belle wouldn’t have to pry so hard.” another girl rolled her eyes. “Men always think women can’t handle what they throw when in reality we take the heat for your dumb asses.”

“Interesting conversation. Y/N, what do you think?” the teacher took note that you were paying more attention and turned her sights on you. “What do you think about the dynamic between Damien and Belle?”

You cursed yourself for looking too interested. You hated speaking. “I...Um.” you opened your mouth and closed it again, unsure of what to say. “I think Damien’s refusal to allow Belle to see the other side of him not only puts their mental connection at risk, but physical as well.” you replied.

“What do you mean physical?” she egged you on to elaborate. “As in sex?”

“W-well, yes and no.” you shrugged. “Belle prides herself on building connection through touch. She can’t have sex with Damien because she doesn’t feel loved by him. To him sex is just a thing you do. He gets his pleasure from bullying her, that’s his high.” you explained. “She claims she doesn’t care but if she didn’t, she wouldn’t spend her time wishing he was different...or something.” you played with your hands, staring down at your fingers.

The teacher stared at you before a smile broke out on her face. “Excellent analysis, Y/N!” she clapped her hands together. You returned the smile with the tiny bit of confidence that built up inside you. “Yes, Jimin did you have something you wanted to add?”

You turned your head to find the always mouthy Park Jimin lazily raising his hand. “She likes being bullied by him.” he said as if it was a matter of fact.

“Excuse you?” you couldn’t help but speak out. Suddenly the entire class was quiet. They had never heard you speak so abruptly before. “What the hell do you mean she likes it.”

“She wouldn’t put up with it if she didn’t like it.” he raised an eyebrow. “She could just tell him to leave her alone, get lost or something.”

“How in the hell would Belle enjoy someone like Damien embarrassing her every minute he gets. Are we reading the same book?” you sat up straight crossing your arms.

“Now this is getting interesting.” the teacher mumbled.

“You can tell by her actions. The rush of her blood when she blushes, the way she stammers over her words, the way she listens to his every word...much like you are right now, princess.” he winked. His smug grin alone made your blood boil.

“Oh and I suppose his possessive ways are warranted in your eyes too aren’t they.” you scoffed.

“Maybe, I mean she even says herself she feels cared about.” he shrugged.

“Because Damien is a manipulative dickhead!” you snapped. “He obviously wants her around because she’s the only girl who gives a shit about his life and he’d feel lost without her.” you snarled. “Then again I would expect this point of view from a man who changes bitches like he changes his underwear.” (A/N we don’t hate women here).

“Language Miss. L/N.” the teacher spoke. You rolled your eyes, glaring at Jimin one last time before facing forward. The whole class was silent.

“Nice one Y/N” a girl on your opposite side nudges you.

“Not bad for a quiet girl.” a boy piped up.

...

As classes were let out for the day you wordlessly avoided the looks you got from your other classmates. You walked down the halls, holding your books tightly to your chest.

“Oi, Hey L/N!”

You weren’t sure if the sound of Jimin’s voice made you wanna speed up or slow down. It didn’t matter because he went as far as to run and stop right in front of you.

“Um..What?” you looked up at him.

“Oh, not excited to see me?” he scoffed with a sadistic smile. You didn’t know what he was planning but you didn’t like it. “Way to try and debate me in class today, who knew you had a mouth on you.”

“I was just answering the teachers question..I don’t want any trouble..” you clutched your books even tighter. Before he could reply a girl ran up, practically attaching herself to him.

“JIMMY YOU HAVE DANCE PRACTICE!” she practically screeched. “Why are you talking to her?”

“Oh...Y/N here was-” he paused. “Just confessing her undying love for me!”

“What! No I wasn’t!” you tried to deny, but it was too late. Everyone who was around heard him. “I don’t have a crush on you!” You felt your face heart up.

“Oh Y/N, You don’t have to hide it! Why else would you speak to me passionately in class today.” his sick grin never left his face. You could tell this was his revenge for embarrassing him in class. “You were telling me all about how you couldn’t sleep another night without telling me. How you want me in more ways than one.”

He spoke loud enough so others could hear.

“That’s not true!” you snapped. You were trembling. Humiliation filled your body and was overflowing, much like the tears of embarrassment you couldn’t fight anymore. “I’m not in love with you.”

“Oh Y/N, you don’t have to hide it anymore. I know everything. The love letters, the staring-”

“What?!”

But it was too late, people were already giggling and staring at you with pity. You took one last look at Jimin, who was already walking away, gleefully accepting the high fives from the pigs who dared to say ‘Nice score.’

“Are you alright, Y/N?’ a girl came up to you, putting her hand on your shoulder. “Should we go to the headmaster?”

You didn’t answer, you just ran. You ran out the school, unknowingly into the pouring rain. It seemed the sky matched your mood today. You let out all the tears, not caring who saw or who looked at you as if you had lost your mind. Your house was far, but you didn’t care about that either. In that moment you felt as helpless as the character you loved dearly, Belle.

...

You ignored everyone the next day, even your small group of lunch buddies. You worked alone, you sat alone at lunch, and by the time free period had rolled around, you had opted to hide. However, just as you prepared yourself to leave, who else but Jimin to stopped you in the middle of the halls.

“Well if it isn’t my little admirer!” Jimin spoke loud enough to capture the attention of those around you. He ‘accidentally’ slapped your books out of your hands. “Oh, I’m sorry Y/N...Go ahead, pick those up.”

Without another word you knelt down, only to have him kick one of your books to the side. “What’s this! A diary!”

A brown and black leather bound hardcover book sat at his feet. You instantly scrambled to get it, but he had managed to get his hands on it. “Isn’t this interesting!”

“Jimin please don’t-!” you stood up, forgetting about your textbooks.

“Dear friend,-” he cleared his throat dramatically as he flipped through the pages of your diary.

Dear journal,

My life is nothing like stories I read about all the time. Each and every night I’d wish for my handsome devil to come. Come and take me away from here, away from the hate, away from the commotion, away from Park fucking Jimin. I don’t know what I’ve done to make him hate me the way he does. I just wish he’d be nice to me...just once. But that is one wish I know won’t come true. He’s just a sadistic asshole who bullies me because he knows I won’t say a word.

So why do i-

You snatched the book out of his hands before he could read any more, this time you were seething with rage. “If you EVER touch my property again I will- I’ll-”

“You’ll do what princess?” he smiled cheekily. “You won’t do a thing to me and we both know it...you’re just like that Belle chick. That handsome devil of yours is just a fever dream, get over it-.”

“Maybe, but I’d rather live in a dream than talk to Satan himself.” you snapped. “You’re just the devil.” you whimpered. “Why do I even put up with you?” you sighed. Jimin suddenly stepped forward. You mentally prepared yourself for the worst.

You felt his lips touch the side of your mouth, had you moved just a bit more, he would have been on your lips. “Because you love me.”

....

“For this project, I will be assigning you partners

Oh shit...please no. God, no. Dear lord if anyone can hear-

“Alex and Jackson. Lisa and Mark, Y/N and Jimin-”

“Fuck.” you mouthed. You dared looked next to you. Jimin was playfully leaning his cheek against the palm of his hand. He winked at you, taking his bottom lip between his teeth.

“You will be doing book reports on The Young Devil. You choose the topic, this is due in two weeks. I recommend you get together outside of school.”

As class let out, Jimin followed you. “Sooo, partner! When am I coming over?”

“When pigs fly.” you answered sourly.

“Saturday at 7:00 you said? I’ll be there!” he threw an arm around your waist. “See you there, babe.”

“You don’t even know my address!” you called after him as he walked off. That probably wasn’t the best idea because everyone was staring at you again. “NO! BECAUSE WE HAVE A PROJECT....Nevermind.” you groaned.

... (Saturday 7:30 PM)

“You’re late.” you seethed as you pulled open the door. Jimin sauntered in and you slammed the door.

Soon it was silent between you two. Before he could open his mouth, you left him standing there to bolt up the stairs. Jimin, being himself followed you. To be honest, you were already starting without him.

“Do you live alone?” he asked, noticing how empty your home was.

“I do.” you replied curtly. “My parents travel around a lot, so I never see them.” you shrugged. “They help me out though.”

“So mommy and daddy take care of everything-”

“You don’t know me.” you cut him off. You sat down at your desk and pulled up your notes, proceeding to work. “They help me because they care...unlike some people.” you scoffed. “Shut up so I can concentrate.”

“I thought this was a partner thing.” you heard your bed creak. “I think we should put out minds...maybe bodies together and think of a concept.”

“I already have one.” you cut him off.

“Enlighten me.”

“If Damien hadn’t changed by the end of the book, would Belle still be with him.” you mused aloud.

“Probably.”

“....” you didn’t reply, because you didn’t want to admit he was right. Probably the only time you’d ever agree with him on anything.

“What? Still mad at me for reading your little diary?” he asked. Once again, you ignored him. Suddenly, your chair was turned around abruptly and you were now staring at a red faced Jimin. “I don’t like being ignored, doll.”

He was so close, your noses were practically touching. You froze up, afraid to move.

“Why are you so mean?” you found yourself asking. “What did I ever do to you?”

“Other than refuse to drop that good girl act of yours? We’re a dysfunctional two peas in a pod. I’m an asshole and you’re too much of a stiff to stop me.”

“Act?” you looked confused. “I don’t have an act.” you attempted to defend yourself.

“Hm...that face you make is kind of hot.” he smirked. He slid his fingertips under your chin. Your vision went blurry, unable to process everything. You absent-mindedly began playing with the hem of your sweater.

(SMUT AHEAD, PROCEED WITH CAUTION)

“What is your deal!?” you found yourself getting angry as you stood up. Jimin stepped back looking startled. “You’re messing with my fucking head and I’ve had enough! Jimin what did I ever do to you?” you felt it again. Humiliation. “I’m not asking you to be my friend but the least you could do is be nice to me!”

“I don’t do nice, sweetheart. Like you said, I’m the devil.” he walked up to you. “Your blush is like a drug to me.” he laughed. “It’s cute.” he rested his hands on either side of your face. “Fuck, I kinda wanna kiss you right now. Do you wanna kiss me?”

YES!

“Yes, I mean no! I mean yes- I mean maybe, I mean fuck!”

Not even a second later, Jimin’s lips were over yours. Despite his bullying, his kiss was gentle. You practically melted. He protectively wrapped an arm around your waist. Your thoughts on the project were long gone. Jimin couldn’t figure out why he felt so protective of you all of a sudden, but thoughts ran through his head. Thoughts that if anyone else kissed you, touched, you even looked your way...he’d go ballistic.

And fuck, you were a great kisser. He held the back of your head with his free hand, guiding you into his touch, which you followed perfectly. His tongue slid through the gap in your mouth, yearning to taste you more. You felt lightheaded as if your heart was about to give out. He pulled away, resting his forehead against yours.

“Maybe I’m so cruel because I don’t know how to act around you.” he whispered. “Maybe I’m trying to be the devil you want so bad.” you could see a flash of sadness in his eyes, which was quickly replaced with lust. “I wanna be your devil, Y/N...”

He kissed you again, this time his warm hands slithered under your clothes. You were by no means a virgin, but the way you felt made you feel shy and exposed. Jimin walked you back towards your bed and practically threw you on the plush surface while he rid himself of his shirt. Your bodies practically melted together, bodies meeting in a sweaty mass of limbs that explored one another.

Be fumbled with your pants, almost tearing them off you. He gave you a sadistic smile before ghosting his lips over both your thighs. Your legs shook, trying to keep them steady.

“Have you ever...done anything with anyone?” he asked.

“Once, but nothing special.” you admitted. “It was straight to the point.” you shrugged.

“Then I guess I have nothing to compete against.” he bit his lips. “You smell so good here.” he shuddered. “I wanna-”

He yanked down your panties next. His lips ghosted over your slit, pressing feather light kisses against you.

You held your breath, unable to register what was going on. His fingers met your clit, sliding his fingers through your slickness. Before you could say another word, Jimin licked a stripe up your slit. You bucked your hips, only to be held down. He sucked harshly at your clit before playing with your little bud with his tongue.

“F-fuh-” you couldn’t even muster up the words as Jimin played with you.

“Fuck Y/N.” he groaned. You felt his fingers slid inside of you, coating his fingers in your water. “I don’t know what’s hotter, the look on your face or the way your-”

“D-don’t say it!” you cut him off. “I’m warning you!”

“What?” you could just see she shit-eating grin on his face. “You mean pussy? The way this pussy takes my fingers so well?” (Now from the top, make it drop- I’ll shut up)

He abruptly removed his fingers which made your back arch and lurch upwards. You sat up on his elbows only to witness Jimin rid himself on his pants and boxers. Your eyes widened when you saw his hardness. You couldn’t look away.

“See something you like?” his voice made you snap out of it. He bit his lip with a grin. He grabbed your legs and aligned himself with you, teasing the hell out of your entrance, just barely touching you with his length. “Am I your devil, Y/N?”

“God, yes.” you couldn’t fight it anymore.

Slowly, he slid in, groaning at the feel of you around his dick. “Shit Y/N...How the hell am I gonna move when you’re so t-tight. I won’t last 10 seconds.” he whimpered. He slowly thrust again, your juices creating a deep echo in the room. “Hah...Ungh...f-fu” he planted his hands on the bed, one either side of your head. “Y/N...You don’t know what you do to me.”

“J-jimin.” you mirrored his voice, wrapping your arms around his neck. “P-please?”

That was all the motivation he needed to start moving.

Your moans and yells echoes through the room, the clapping sound of flesh hitting flesh bounced off the walls. Sweat kept your bodies practically glues together. His fingers moved everywhere. Grabbing your sweater that for some reason was still on, grabbing your legs to pull you back into him. Your face to move your hair out of the way so he could witness the euphoria written shamelessly on your face. His jaw went slack and he felt himself getting to that part, and he could tell you were close too.

You were first, practically convulsing under him, screams of his name escaping your lungs.

“ARGH, FUCK!” He followed suit and immediately removed himself from you, only to spray himself...all over your sweater and legs. He felt forward, practically shaking against you. He messily kissed you, not bothering to think about neatness as his tongue invaded your mouth for the umpteenth time.

“Mind if I crash here tonight?” he laughed as he plopped next to you.

“Sure.” you breathlessly replied. “Project can wait till tomorrow.”

As you drifted off to sleep, Jimin shimmied out of bed and walked over to the open window. He felt the breeze on his skin and closed his eyes. “Please.” He whispered. “I want to treat her well...don’t let me fuck it up.” He silently wished before joining you in bed again, protectively wrapping his arms around you. “I’ll do anything for you, Y/N...I’m your devil....”

...

Cheesy ending I know but what did ya think?!

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missnight0wl · 3 years

Note

What do you think of Rowan, Ben, Penny and Merula's Patronus? Though I don't like Merula very much, I still think she is able to conjure one.

I’m putting it under the cut because it turned out a bit lengthy.

Rowan

I used to think of an Owl for Rowan because, y’know, it's “a symbol of wisdom” and all. But when I got this ask, I remembered that I found the site on Irish Astrology just days earlier – the same Rowling was using for birthdates and wand wood of the Golden Trio. Interestingly, each sign has assigned an animal there, and since the rowan tree is one of them, I decided to check it to find out that it’s a crane or a green dragon. A dragon makes me think of Charlie, but I did a little bit of digging on another option, and I have to say – I think I’m gonna stick with a Crane Patronus for Rowan.

This is what I found on the Crane symbolism:

Throughout Asia, the crane is considered as a bird of happiness and prosperity. The Japanese, Chinese, and Korean traditions relate it to longevity and fidelity.

Aristotle wrote about this bird that it always held a stone in its mouth so that if it fell asleep and the stone would fall down, the bird would wake. Thus crane symbolism came to be linked with vigilance.

I also checked Indian symbolism since Rowan is part Indian, and I found this:

[The Sarus crane] is also known as the eternal symbol of unconditional love and devotion and good fortune.

Interestingly, cranes are monogamous and they mate for life. That’s actually why in Japan, they’re often incorporated in wedding décor!

Overall, we have pretty positive symbolism. The parts about devotion and unconditional love sum Rowan up as a friend pretty well. We also have a part about vigilance which again is pretty fitting for Rowan who was probably the most aware from all of our friends that MC is indeed in constant danger – and that’s why they were suspicious of Ben (not because they simply didn’t like Ben – let’s remember that Rowan and Ben were friends at the end of a day).

Admittedly, “in some cultures, the meanings of crane birds can be negative: they represent deception, a harbinger of death, and even the symbol of the devil.” However, it’s actually a bit meta, considering all the people suspecting Rowan of being a traitor.

Ben

I really like the idea of a Lion Patronus for Ben. A Patronus form is not only about representing one’s personality, but also “the Patronus represents that which is hidden, unknown but necessary within the personality” - and it fits Ben’s bravery so nicely. I talk here mostly about Old Ben, but that’s also a pretty old idea of mine. I mean, Ben was always super brave when his friends needed it, he just couldn’t really accept it himself. I also find it kind of heart-warming to imagine Old Ben being intimidated by his own Patronus at first, only to become more and more comfortable around it with time.

Another thing, I remember reading once someone else’s point that it could be a funny reference to the Cowardly Lion from The Wizard of Oz – which, now that I think about it, Ben would be probably familiar with as a Muggleborn!

Now, as for New Ben… Well, honestly, I don’t think that Ben would be able to cast Patronus Charm at this very moment. He probably still feels too much guilt for Rowan’s death and whatnot. Still, I remembered a discussion I had with my friend after Rakepick’s Patronus was finally revealed, and she pointed out then that male lions tend to kill little cubs if they defeat a previous male lion and take over his pack. Y’know, to eliminate wrong genes. And you know what? It’s kind of what Ben did with his old self. Before the end of Y5, Ben had a pretty good understanding of bravery. There was that very sweet moment in the O.W.L.s TLSQ, for example:

But then, the end of Y5 happened, and Ben was like: “Nope. I know no fear and THAT’S bravery”.

Either way, I do hope that Ben will eventually return on his path of a healthy balance between his old and new self, and I have a feeling that a Lion would still be a pretty good match then.

Penny

Probably an unpopular opinion, but I always thought that Penny’s Patronus should be some kind of a predator. I once even proposed a Black Panther, but I didn’t have a lot of reasoning behind it, to be honest. Now, I think I’m gonna change it anyway, and I’ll say that Penny would have a Fox Patronus. This is information I found on it:

The fox is a natural trickster, and brilliantly charismatic. Those with this Patronus are often more reserved, but do have the social capability to speak to just about anyone. They are strongly ambitious and observant of the behaviour of others, watching key points in what others do and storing them for further reference, when they may need them. They are good talkers, meaning they can convince people to do what they want and make them think it was their idea in the first place.

Foxes are quick, intelligent and strongly ambitious. Although they are known for their cunning nature, they are very charismatic and easy to love. If your Patronus is a fox, you have an ability to think outside of the box and act quickly during emergency situations.

Penny is insanely ambitious about her Potions-making. She said on more than one occasion that she couldn’t pass the opportunity to brew more advanced Potion. She’s also obviously charismatic, and the part I might like the most is about “making others do what they want and even make them think it was their idea”. Because when you really think about it… it’s exactly Penny.

Like, making MC steal the ingredients for the Forgetfulness Potion and very similar situation again with the Draught of Peace (each time not even telling MC what it’s about until the very end). Making MC impersonate a Professor or a Prefect. All those situations could get us in pretty serious trouble. Yet, the best example in all of that is the Animagus TLSQ, in my opinion.

The quest started with the rumours that Talbott is planning to become an Animagus, and so MC got intrigued and decided to help Talbott get ingredients, hoping that Penny could make an extra Potion for them. But then, it turned out that Penny doesn’t make the Potion for Talbott at all, and she wanted MC to take it instead. Moreover, Talbott was already an Animagus, so the whole story didn’t really make much sense from the very beginning. Now, it might be the case of Jam City screwing up badly in writing, but it doesn’t change the fact that this is basically what happened: Penny wanted to brew the Animagus Potion, so she sent Talbott to get MC intrigued in the whole thing, so MC thought it was their idea while Penny could brew her Potion. Now, tell me she’s not a Fox – especially that again it could’ve been pretty dangerous for MC if anything went wrong.

There’s also a part about thinking outside of the box and acting quickly during the emergency, and funnily enough, it’s also kind of true for Penny. The thing is that she doesn’t act well in those situations – but that’s a separate problem.

Also, I don’t know if you can tell it by now, but I totally believe that Penny should’ve been a Slytherin, and I will die on that hill. Just a digression.

Merula

Hm, how about a Mole? Or a Rat? :D Just kidding, of course. Mostly…

Seriously though, I had a bit of a problem with Merula. I thought of a Skunk or a Frilled-neck lizard at first, y’know, because they try to look more threatening as a self-defence mechanism. I considered a Yorkshire Terrier as well because they’re always yapping at bigger dogs. And while they kind of fit Merula, they’re definitely not perfect matches. Merula has no dog qualities whatsoever, and even though her aggression is probably caused by a lot of insecurities, skunks and frilled-neck lizards don’t really harm whatever threatens them. Merula does harm, whether physically or emotionally, and she’s pretty calculated in that.

So, I kept thinking about something else, and there was one option I was coming back to. And even though I didn’t fully like it at first, I think I’ll stick to it, and I’ll say that Merula would have a Black Mamba Patronus.

Here’s some information about Black Mambas:

Cloaked in the color of death and measuring over 14 feet in length, the Black Mamba is regarded as one of the most vicious snakes in the world. It’s also one of the most venomous. (…) Unlike many animals, which simply have an anger problem, Black Mambas are driven by an extreme form of fear-based aggression. Being exceedingly nervous, the slightest sense that the snake’s escape route is compromised may unleash an attack of unparalleled ferocity.

There’s also an interesting quote from the discussion on whether or not they chase humans:

No, they absolutely don’t chase humans. No snakes chase humans. However black mambas are so high-strung they’re practically hysterical the moment something makes them nervous, and they’re really not very intelligent. As a result, these snakes are extremely prone to absolute panic. If you corner a mamba, its fight/flight reflex is triggered, and it will freak out and try to fight you to escape. This involves wildly throwing itself around and biting you like 60 times in a row, if you don’t get the blazes out of the way. (…) And they’re not very good at evaluating the level of danger they’re in. Or… much of anything.

… and that’s basically Merula. She’s in a constant state of panic that people are better than her. Especially in earlier years, she constantly felt threatened by MC’s mere existence, even when MC was clear they just don’t care about her – so she was attacking. All. The. Freaking. Time.

Moreover, snakes in general are often associated with deceit, so there’s that.

Of course, there’s also much more positive symbolism around snakes, like a rebirth, transformation, or heling. And while I have no doubts that Jam City won’t give Merula a proper redemption arc (because they're too lazy about it), she clearly is a character who’s supposed to be all about redemption. So, I guess that’s another reason why a Black Mamba would fit nicely, even though it seems a bit stereotypical for a Slytherin (then again, Merula totally should’ve been a Gryffindor, but that’s a topic for a different discussion).

#long post #hogwarts mystery #hphm #rowan khanna #ben copper #penny haywood #merula snyde #patronus #about characters #ask #anonymous

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nypmphetsbastard · 4 years

Text

Paradis Island ch 3

Parings: yelena x reader

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YOU PAID NO MIND to the constant buzzing coming from your back pocket as you made your way to your local library. Feelings weren't something you were really used to. Whenever you fell on the playground as a child or injured yourself in any way your parents had always told you to suck it up and stop crying. So you did. If you fell, if you got hurt, wether emotionally or physically it didn't matter— you didn't cry, wail out in pain or even tell anyone; bandaging up your open wounds and feelings before they could spill out fo the world to see became a constant routine. Ironically enough, in young adulthood you now knew nothing of how to express emotions or even pinpoint how you were feeling.

Was it jealously? Sadness? You didn't know. You didn't know.You didn't know.You didn't know. You didn't know. And it drove you crazy.

"Hey...are you okay?" You were pulled out of your trance as a warm hand landed on your shoulder, you raised your eyes up to the person and saw Hange standing in front of you with a look of worry written on their face.

"I-...i.." your mouth seemed to be in the place as your mind, scrambled and tangled together like cable wires.

"Hey, it's okay. Here, sit down, have some water." Hange said worriedly, handing you a water bottle from their bookbag. You took it gratefully and chugged down most of the water till you felt like your breath had finally caught up to you. Hange didn't ask any questions as they watched you chug down their water and opted to rubbing your back until you wiped your mouth and handed back the water to them.

"Thank you, Hange. I really needed that." You thanked

"Anytime." They smiled at you and began pulling out notebooks and pens from their bag, not looking at you. Biting your lips in nervousness, you tapped them on the shoulder.

"Aren't you gonna ask what's wrong?" You asked, genuine confusion on your face. It was nerve wracking to you, not having someone constantly breathing down your throat asking a bunch of questions and pressuring you into answer. The silent treatment to you was always a punishment growing up. And it only made it worse in adulthood.

"No. Unless you directly tell me you want to talk about something i don't feel like i should intrude." They explained, you blinked in surprise. "Would you like to talk abut anything?" They asked patiently. You shook your head, still mentally in shock at what a patient and understanding Hange is.

"Alright. How was college been for you so far? I was a complete mess when i first came but you seem to handling it well."

"Tch, you'd be surprised. Some teachers gave a first day assignment, others didn't, but it's nothing i can't handle. Oh and then..." You rambled some more as Hange listened intently and even told their own college stories.

And finally, after a long time of searching, you felt like you finally had a real friend. A real chance at creating something and becoming what your teenage self would've wanted you to be. It felt nice being heard, a rare privilege you never got back home yet something you desperately longed for and cringed onto the majority of your life. Having friends was a strange thing for someone as closed off as you but in that moment, you'd sell an arm and a leg for stay forever. To stay here listening to Hange as thy spoke of their young shenanigans and telling some old childhood stories knowing they were listening no interacting with you the entire time. To sty in a moment forever, why couldn't you? Truly a curse.

Only after almost 2 hours of talking did Hange finally drop the bomb of having to leave, soiling your perfect moment.

"Alright hun, i gotta go help Eren with some science thing but i will definitely text you later." They let go of their titan grip on you and walked away, waving you a goodbye and leaving at the back of the library, alone.

With. Sigh, you reached into your school bag and smiled softy at the book you pulled out. Thankfully in Pieck's rush to throw your school essentials in your bag, she snuck in the book you were eyeing the day before, 'Alice in Wonderland'. Another moment you were hoping to stay in forever. The crisp smell of a new book and the warm cozy feeling you got as you snuggled into the plush chair felt like heaven. Hange did not lie when they said they found the best spot in the library.

A smile creeped up on your lips as your eyes scanned the words on the pages, a warm feeling rising your chest and a sense of familiarity at Alice's situation. Just a regular girl stuck in a mundane boring life that'd been scheduled ahead of time for her with nobody to understand her curiosity and need to learn something knew. In a way, you understood her. Alice had achieved the life you wanted. To run away, to meet new people, go on adventure and find who the real Alice was. A journey in life you had yet to come across. Finding the real you, you wondered what it'd be.

"Hey." Flinching at the familiar voice, you craned your neck up to face the woman you had just caught making out with your roommate. "What's got you smiling like that over here?" Yelena asked, you dropped the smile on your face and put a placement piece on your book page before closing it and giving Yelena your full attention.

"Nothing." She quirked up an eyebrow at your one word response

"Damn, you sleep with one roommate and suddenly we're not friends." She teased, crossing her arms over her chest and smirking down at you. You rolled your eyes and looked back down at the cover of your book with the full intention to pack everything up and get out before you said something embarrassing.

"We were never friends" you mumbled, not thinking anything of it and not bothering to look up to see her expression. Well, it didn't seem like you ad to, especially when Yelena rested the palm of her hand on the side of the mini couch and bent down to your sitting height, looking directly into your eyes.

"Are you sure about that?" She questioned.

You breath caught in your throat at your closeness, so close you could smell the artificial lemon and lavender encompassing her clothing and the fresh mint in her breath. So close you see the splashes of brown in her dark eyes and non existent pores on her pale skin. For as short as you've known her, it never occurred to you how much of an effect she seemed to have over you until now.

"I don't think your girlfriend would appreciate this." You pointed out blankly, a hint of jealousy seeing out through your words.

Yet she smirked. She fucking smirked.

"Aw, is my little kitten jealous?" Yelena teased cockily, raising one of your hands up to wipe away any imaginary loose hairs on your forehead. Your eyebrows pinched together in annoyance as you pushed her hand out of your face. "What's wrong? Do you wanna be mine?"

You scoffed and leaned back in your seat to create space between the two of you, "Like i said, your girlfriend wouldn't appreciate this, or did you forget you had one of those?" You mocked.

"Yeah" Yelena said bluntly with a slight smile, you scoffed and looked at her in anger. Getting up from your seat, you grabbed your bag and stood in front of her.

"Seriously? You're such an asshole." You snapped at her as she just leaned against the table behind her without a care in the world. "You know, you don't deserve Pieck." You huffed before turning your back on her and walking away.

"You're right." You stopped walking at her words but kept your back to her, "I don't deserve Pieck." Her steps got closer till she was finally behind you and towering over you as she did to everyone, "Which is why she isn't mine." She whispered in your ear.

Yelena smirked at the confusion coating your face as she walked around you till she stood right in front of you. "We're not dating. Which you would've known if you didn't jump to conclusions." She joked, you crossed your arms defensively.

"I walk in on you on top of my roommate and, what? Am i supposed to assume you were just kissing as friends?"

"Yes, exactly." She agreed, you snorted and rolled your eyes again. "Oh come on, its college, who doesn't kiss their friends?"

You turned to her with an incredulous look on your face, "Me? Who the hell kisses their friends?" You exclaimed

"Ah i understand now, if you want a kiss you could've just asked, babe." Yelena flirted, giving you a wink and smile. You felt your eyes nearly roll to the back of your head as you shook your head and began walking towards the exit of the library.

"I already told you, we're not friends, Yelena" you stated, the blonde haired woman snickered and walked in front of you, stopping you once more.

"We can be strangers who kiss, kitten. Maybe then the jealously won't get to that pretty head of yours." She joked, your mouth dropped open and you pushed her out of our way for the final time, not bothering to turn around.

"We are not friends."

"Not yet, my love." Yelena called out behind you as you stormed off, laughing your angry face that did nothing but make her want you even more.

Pushing open your dorm room door, you were somewhat relieved you didn't find any more PG-13 action going on again but still groaned and kicked off your shoes at the front of the door. Pieck looked up from her mini alter and waved at you with a small crystal in her hand.

"Hey, again." She greeted you, you mumbled back a greeting and hopped straight into bed, "Ew, outside clothes on the bed, kid." Pieck complained, you whined at how right she was and sat up again.

"I know I'm just tired." You whined, Pieck chuckled lightly and put down her incense and stood up to throw you a towel.

"Well you've got maybe 30 minutes before your next class, try to take a nap." She suggested, "What's got you so tired anyway?"

"Mmh, after my fourth period class i spent almost 2 hours in the library talking with Hange and after they left i started reading the book you packed, thanks for that by the way. Anyways, your girlfri—close friend, friend who you kiss - whatever the hell you two are started bugging me while i was trying to read." You spilled tiredly

"You mean Yelena?" You nodded, "Mhm I didn't know you guys were friends." Pieck inquired, you groaned again and stood up to stretch.

"We are NOT friends." You insisted, ready to head out the door, "you can have her all to yourself." you convinced yourself.

#yelena aot #pieck x y/n #pieck finger #yelena x reader #attack on titan #shingeki no kyojin #eren yeager #hange zoe #zeke yeager #snk levi

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clonecaptains · 4 years

Photo

SHOW ME THE STARS - a poe dameron x f!reader fic

rating: m - for some smut, but this is like 95% fluff

word count: 16k

summary: you’re a mechanic that just got a new assignment - working on your crush poe dameron’s ship.

a/n: this is completely canon divergent. it’s very loosely following the story line of the films so just toss out what you know of canon reading this!! i want to give a huge shout out to @pascalispedro for listening to me blab about this fic and the support, and to @damndamer0n for all your poe advice!!! this is one of the longest fics i’ve written and i worked so hard!! this is my first poe fic ever so feedback would be much appreciated!! thank you!!

Show Me the Stars

You’re scared to fly. You prefer your feet to be on the ground. That’s the natural order of things. There’s never been a time where you’ve been on a ship where you weren’t apprehensive or scared. You thought maybe it would help if you understood more about how things worked with flying, but when that didn’t click for you, the next step was learning about the machines themselves. So that’s what you do. You know just about everything there is to know about how ships work, but you have no desire to fly one on your own, and you still don’t like being out in space.

As a kid, this wasn’t much of an issue. You stayed grounded. But when the First Order came in and took your family from you, you joined the Resistance. Offering your services as a mechanic and maintenance worker.

Your job has its challenges, but there are days when it’s rather easy. Luckily a good portion of the pilots know as much if not more than you, and they take good care of their equipment. Some days your job is as simple as giving the ships a once over and maybe cleaning up some of the carbon scoring that’s gunked up.

You work with a team, and you’ve just been given a new assignment. The war is ending. At first it seems strange to get a new assignment so close to the end, but it’s an assignment you’ve been wanting for a long time.

Your group has been assigned to the X-Wing squadron. When you were given these orders, you felt your stomach drop and your heart leap at the same time.

That’s where he is.

Poe Dameron.

The absolute love of your life that you’ve spoken to maybe twice in your time with the Resistance.

He has a reputation of being a playboy, but that’s not something you’ve ever paid much attention to. All you see in him is the warmth of his smile. The passion in his eyes. You’ve heard him when he gets riled up about something, he cares so much about the Resistance. He won’t back down.

You’ve also noticed his wonderful curls, and the dark stubble covered jaw. The way his smile catches in the sunlight. His thick thighs and you blush when you catch yourself staring at his ass.

You know most people are in love with him. You’re one in a crowd. And despite his reputation, you’ve never actually seen what people are talking about? Maybe you’re just not around him enough to see the lovers he takes, but maybe you’ll get that chance to see, or to be one.

You know you don’t want to just be a notch in his belt, another lover that passes by to someone new. But you’re not ready to see him flirt with other members of your team.

You’re getting ahead of yourself. You’ve only just been given this assignment.

You are to report to the X-Wing hanger of the base first thing in the morning. This is guaranteed a chance to see Poe on a more regular basis, that’s one thing that’s certain. Whether or not you’ll talk to him is another story.

“What are you thinking about over there Ms. Deep in Thought?” your roommate, Corelle’s voice interrupts your thinking. You’ve been lying on your bed looking up at the ceiling for too long.

“Oh, nothing,” you laugh sheepishly, sitting up. You sit up too fast and the blood goes to your head, you feel a slight twinge of a headache. That’s not what you need right now.

“I know that look,” Corelle laughs. “When are you gonna tell me who he is?”

You bite your lower lip. Corelle has the biggest mouth on this base. She’s a wonderful friend, but you cannot tell her about your crush on Poe. Or she’ll tell him for you.

Maybe that wouldn’t be a bad idea, but if he doesn’t like you back then it would be embarrassing.

“I won’t tell!” you laugh brushing her off. You know she means no harm, but you’ve gotten good at avoiding her questions. You’d played all the games; she’s named everyone on this base. But since you were laughing the whole time anyways, you were able to play off when she asked if it was Poe. That was ages ago now. You’re in it deeper than you were then. If she asked again you might not be able to hide it.

You haven’t felt like this since you were a young girl with a crush back on your home world, before all this began.

“Seriously, though what’s wrong?” she asks. “You look stressed.”

“Well you know we got that new assignment?” you’re choosing your words carefully.

“Is he gonna be there?” she sits up on her bed asking excitedly.

“I didn’t say that!” you laugh, feeling flustered. This is too close to comfort. “It’s just jitters I think before a new job. There’s talk the war is almost over and I don’t want to mess this up so close to the end.”

“He’s there. And I’m gonna find out who he is,” she points and smiles. You roll your eyes and flop back down on your bed to hide under your covers.

“I’ll never tell,” you laugh.

“Hey,” she says, her voice serious. “I understand the jitters. It’ll be fine. Hopefully this will all be over soon, and you can settle down with this mystery man.”

You’re not lying, it is jitters for working in a new part of the base. Every piece of the puzzle in the Resistance is important for the cause. You don’t want to be a reason for any losses. Not now, so close to the end.

Those jitters keep you up most of the night. You lay awake staring at the ceiling. Your roommate sound asleep, not a care in the world. You admire her strength, she’d say the same about you, but you don’t feel strong right now.

Your previous assignment was a part of the Y-Wing squadron. Each mechanic was assigned to a group of Y-Wings. You know how this works. You pray to be assigned to Poe’s ship; you just have to be assigned to him! You got to be close with the pilots in the Y-Wing squadron. There’s not as many of them now. That’s why you’re being transferred to the X-Wings. Which is another thing on your mind. No one prepared you for the grief that would come with losing pilots, your friends. You’re not a solider. You joined the cause to fight back for what you lost, who you lost. You didn’t think about losing anyone else. And that thought haunts you. Poe is the best pilot out there, he’s brave. Maybe too brave. He gets himself in dangerous situations, and you worry about him. He’s not yours to worry about, but you worry about them all every time they go up.

You hate flying.

But it certainly won’t stop you from doing your job and making sure those who fly are safe. You’re known among your team to take the longest to do routine checks. Everything needs to run right so the pilot can be as safe as possible.

Luckily for you, your attention to detail and care for ships gets you what you want.

That morning in the main hangar, your team leader is handing out assignments. He calls your last name, and simply says, “You get Dameron,” and he points over in the direction of Poe’s black X-Wing.

You try not to react in front of your team, you just nod and say, “Yes, sir.” But inside your blood is pounding and your ears are ringing. You’re exhausted from your lack of sleep, and now you feel dizzy with excitement over this assignment. You smile inwardly at hearing some buzz through the team when Poe’s ship is assigned to you. But with it comes a weight, you know you have a job to do and it’s not one you take lightly. Poe is the best, and he deserves the best from you, and that’s what you’re gonna give.

And just hope he notices you in the process. Is that so wrong?

When the team disperses, you head straight for Poe’s X-Wing. It feels like an extension of him, and there’s almost a thrill when you approach. You place a hand on the cool metal with reverence. You don’t know how someone could willingly get inside this thing. Never mind being shot at. And you see blaster marks covering this ship. Scarring on an old worn machine. Some are old, some are new.

You begin to familiarize yourself with the ship and the equipment. Structurally it’s different than the Y-Wings, but it’s similar enough you can figure it out. You would like to talk to Poe about his ship though and get any specifics you need to know.

From the looks of things, he keeps things tidy. Other than the blaster burns and some carbon scoring from a recent flight, it’s clean. All that’s left for you to do is tighten some bolts and scrub out some of carbon scoring.

Your work for the day is pretty much done, but you haven’t seen Poe yet. Looking around you’ve seen most of the other pilots’ trickle in and checking things over. When there’s not a battle going on, it’s always encouraged to act as though one could happen any moment. Maintenance and routine checks are common. Keeps people busy during the in between moments.

Since Poe is nowhere to be found, you’re making yourself at home on his X-Wing. You’re on top of it now, cleaning the window. From your perch, you can see when he walks in. Your stomach drops and your heart starts to pound in your ears. What do you do? Do you just keep scrubbing and act cool? Or should you get down to greet him??

Instead you do none of those things and freeze, staring at him as he walks in the main hanger door. BB-8 is rolling along at his heels. Poe has an easy smile on his face, and he waves a greeting at some fellow pilots he passes. As he gets closer, he sees you, and you make quick to get back to work. You don’t want to look like you were staring.

“Hey!” you hear a voice call down to you. He’s talking to you, you’re panicking.

You lean over a little to see him standing on the ground below. His brows are knitted together, but he’s not angry.

“You didn’t have to do that!” he points up to you cleaning the window. BB-8 beeps beside him. Poe looks down and says something, but you don’t catch it. You’re focusing on climbing down and not falling on your face.

You manage to hop down the ladder with relative ease, even though he was watching. You inwardly groan because this jumpsuit of yours is not exactly flattering.

When you finally are face to face with him, it’s like a gut punch. His eyes are so big and gentle. His curls are a wonderful mess. You have to speak before he suspects something.

“It’s my job,” you tell him, “to clean the windows. And do maintenance.” You slap the rag over your shoulder, and in the process, water drops fling from it and land on his face, and the rag hits your shoulder with a loud wet slop. This is not going well. “I’m so sorry!” you gasp watching him blink rapidly from the shock of water in his eye. You can feel your face get hot, but he only smiles, a little chuckle escapes his lips.

“It’s just water,” he shrugs and wipes his face dry with his sleeve. “Thank you,” he says then, “for cleaning the window.” Then he says your name, which you weren’t sure if he even remembered. “That is your name, right?” he winces afraid to be wrong.

“Yeah,” you smile, “it is.”

“I’m Poe,” he sticks out his hand and you shake it even though your hands are wet and greasy.

“I know,” you smile back. “I’m your new mechanic. I’ve been assigned to help you work maintenance on your ship.”

He nods a quick nod; he’s listening while he reaches for the ladder to climb in the cockpit. He doesn’t seem to notice that his hand is now covered in some black grease.

“I’m glad to have the help!” he calls down to you. “I know my ship, but I’m not a great mechanic. There’s always more to learn.” You watch him nervously as he inspects his ship. “Wow, these windows look fantastic!” he calls down to you. “What else did you do??” he leans over the edge of the cockpit, looking down at you. You smile when you see his smile in your direction. He runs a hand through his curls, grinning.

You tell him, and then ask him some more detailed questions about the ship. For being this hotshot pilot, everyone talks about - he’s very gracious about your helping him. He even apologizes for arriving late and not helping you with some of the work himself.

That night you go back to your room with a smile on your face that you couldn’t hide if you tried.

“So,” Corelle grins, seeing you walk in. “I should’ve known it was Poe.” She shakes her head, but she’s smiling.

“It’s not- I didn’t-” you start but she stops you by holding her hand up.

“Don’t deny it, I saw you today at his X-Wing. You were positively glowing.”

“That bad?” you whine and flop down on your bed. You realize now how exhausted you are from the day. You got very little sleep last night, and today with all the Poe excitement, you’re beat.

“Ohh yeah,” she laughs. “But I wouldn’t call it bad? It was sweet. He was responding to you. I saw his smile too.”

“Yeah?” you ask lifting your head up from your bed to look her way. “You’re not just saying that to make me feel better, are you? He smiles at everyone.”

“Not like he did at you today,” she says in a singsong voice. “I saw the way he raked his hand through those beautiful curls! And how lucky are you that you got assigned to his ship huh?? Destiny wants you together.”

“Promise me that you won’t say anything, please?”

“Don’t worry!”

From anyone else, that would do little to ease worry, but from her, you know you’re safe. She’s not who you have to worry about now, it’s yourself. You’re not even sure what to do now.

There’s no time for love in this fight.

“What did you say?”

“There isn’t time for love in this fight,” you sigh. “What chance do I have here?”

“Stop right there. You’re wrong. This is exactly the time for love. That’s what we’re fighting for isn’t it? We all need something good, a reason to fight for. If you’re worried about him being too reckless up there, give him a reason to want to come back home.”

“Well then what do I do?”

“You have to tell him.”

You don’t tell him. You like things the way they are. You like greeting him in the mornings and helping him with the ship. You like hearing him tell stories and making you laugh. You like the way his dimples pop when he laughs at BB-8. He’s nice to you, warm. You don’t want to lose it.

You like this attention.

“Yes, but it could be better,” you can hear Corelle say. “You like the attention but you’re not happy.”

And you hate to admit that she’s right. You’re full of an ache. He’s not yours. Yes, you have formed quite a friendship. You even have a couple inside jokes, and he smiles at you from across the room. But you’re not his.

When he touches your arm or your shoulder, your insides quiver. When he gives you a little wink, you feel a rush of warmth to you face.

But when you’ve seen him flirt with others, you feel a pang of jealousy. You go back to your room and your roommate has to console your aching heart.

“Promise me you’ll say something the next time you see him. You’ve been like this for weeks now. When will you see him again?”

“Tomorrow.”

He’s going on a recon mission. He’d been chosen because of his stealth flying skills. In and out is what he said.

You ran diagnostics most of the day, making sure the tank was full of fuel and every little nut and bolt is screwed down tight. Everything is clean and ready. You’re there early before he is, giving everything a once over just to be sure.

“There she is!” you hear Poe’s voice loud and clear through the hanger. Of course, he’s a morning person. “Everything ready to go?”

You turn to see him in his orange flight suit, black helmet in his hand. BB-8 is close behind.

“All ready! Are you ready?” you ask him. He puts on his helmet and gives you a confident nod, he scrunches his nose up with the smile he gives. He starts to climb the ladder into the cockpit, but you stop him. “Poe?”

His head whips around at the sound of concern in your voice.

“Be careful?”

He gives a little wink in response and calls down, “I will!”

And before you know it, he’s off. All you can do now is stand back and watch the ship roar to life and take off. Your eyes follow it up into the sky as best you can, and soon he’s nothing more than a twinkle disappearing into the far reaches of space.

Thanks to lightspeed, if everything goes well, he’ll be back in a couple hours. So, you busy yourself with other work in the meantime. For now, that’s making sure everything is ready for his return.

You’re working up a sweat moving around making sure everything is perfect. Your nerves have your stomach in knots, you don’t even realize how hungry you are.

“Take a break,” your supervisor calls in your direction, “I wouldn’t worry about him. He’s the best pilot there is.”

For a beat you think, does your supervisor know about your crush?

“I know you’ve lost pilots before, none of it was your fault. You’re the best at what you do. That’s why we put you with Dameron. Go get something to eat.”

You nod, wiping your greasy hands on your jumpsuit. Food would be good, something to settle your stomach.

It’s not regular eating hours, but the cantina still has people getting meals. Not everyone gets to keep normal hours under these circumstances.

Feeling hungry now, you don’t care what it is you eat. You just go for the first meal option and take your seat.

It’s not til you take a bite do you remember this was a meal you’d shared with Poe before. It was a couple weeks back, and you’d been working hard on the ship. There was a part of the wing that wasn’t working the way it should. It was a tedious task and the two of you spent most of the day working on it. Really it was just Poe handing you tools and holding things steady for you and asking questions of what it was exactly you were doing so he could learn.

At one point he’d taken a break to get you both food, and he brought it back to you. You’d shared the meal together while sitting on top of the X-Wing.

“I’m sorry this tastes terrible,” he had laughed, “I just grabbed the first thing I saw.”

“I didn’t want to say anything but no this isn’t good,” you had laughed back.

You’ll never forget his smile after you laughed. But somehow you forgot this food didn’t taste good and you got it again, but the memory was sweet enough to compensate.

You finish the meal quickly, not wanting to miss him coming back. You can tell pilots from the mission are returning, because you see a group of people heading in the direction of the main hangar. Taking that as your cue, you toss your trash and exit the cantina.

You spot Poe’s X-Wing in the hangar right away, and relief washes over you. He’s safe. From a distance, you can see him climbing out of the ship. You can see him looking around, he’s looking for someone. Other pilots pass him by and give him a pat on the back, he smiles politely, but then that look of concern is back on his brow while he’s scanning the crowd.

He’s looking for you.

You only know because when he makes eye contact with you, his face lights up, and he starts to jog in your direction. He calls your name and pulls you into his arms for a massive hug. It’s so sudden it jostles you. His vest is pressing hard into your chest and he smears sweat from his face onto your cheek. His arms squeeze you so tight it almost hurts, but this is the best moment of your life, what is pain??

Burying your face in the crook of his neck, you breathe deeply. His flight suit is bunching up in your fists as you squeeze him back.

“You really are my good luck charm,” he says pulling away, smile still on his face. “I don’t know what it is that you’ve done but she flies better than she has in a long time.”

“It’s just a machine,” you shrug, “I think it has everything to do with the pilot.” You lightly bump his chest with your fist. “I’m glad you’re back safe.”

You don’t know at the time, but what you said hit Poe in the gut like a speeder crashing into a wall.

“I think it has everything to do with you,” his voice is quiet, uncharacteristically so. He holds your gaze for a moment.

“I’m happy to help!” you reply, not sure what he’s talking about. He blinks rapidly when you speak, as if you just pulled him out of a deep thought.

“I have to go to a debriefing, but later there’s something we need to fix,” he nods his head towards the ship. You nod in agreement. You’ve gotten more comfortable around him, but your insides still jump at the thought of getting to be with him again. And your head is still reeling from that hug.

Right now, there is nothing for you to do until he gets done. It will have to be later, because the ship is too hot to work on. You can already see some places that need to be patched up. No matter how good a pilot he is, small debris can cause big damage.

“Just come find me when you’re done!” you tell him.

Heading back to your room, a friend passes by with a smile. It’s a knowing smile that stops you in your tracks. She tugs on your sleeve of your work jumpsuit.

“What did you say to him?” she asks with a whisper.

“What?” you’re confused, “Nothing out of the ordinary? Why?”

“He gave you the look as you were walking away.”

“What look?” you feel your face heating up, and your voice shakes a little.

“He wanted you to turn around and look at him,” she pats you on the back and walks on by. Your knees feel weak and you feel lightheaded. Pilots and mechanics and all sorts of people are bustling past you, celebrating the success over the mission and getting ready for the next one. Your feet are frozen to the ground, as your friend walks on by.

You turn around, but Poe is already gone. Headed towards the command center to give his debriefing of the information during his recon flight.

The walk back to your quarters has your mind replaying the hug over and over. His sweat has dried now on your cheek, but it’s a memory you’ll cling to forever. He wanted to see you; he was looking for you. You haven’t been hugged like that in a long time. Now you know what it feels like to be in his arms, if not for just a brief moment in time.

Reaching your room, you punch in the keycode on the door and it opens with a hiss. Much to your disappointment, Corelle isn’t in. You have so much to tell her, but you guess it can wait.

You feel an anxious energy, you wish you had something to occupy your mind. On base, there is always something to be done. Therefore, people’s quarters are relatively bare. Some clothes and essentials and a bed. That’s all you need. If something happens, you have to be ready to leave at a moment’s notice.

With a sigh you sit on your bed, propping your leg up on your knee, you start to untie your boot when you hear a gentle knock on the door.

“Corelle,” you laugh, “the code number never changes!” you get up and push the door open expecting your roommate. Only to be greeted with your favorite pair of brown eyes in the galaxy.

“Hi.”

“Hi!” you answer back, a little surprised to see his face.

“You ready to go? I can come back?” he jerks his thumb over his shoulder.

“No, no! I’m ready just give me one second!” Walking back over to your bed you sit down to retie your boot while trying to remain calm that Poe Dameron is standing in your room. “Did the briefing go ok?” you ask trying to make conversation.

“General wants me to go back tomorrow. First thing.”

“Go back?” you ask standing up. No, no. “You just got back!”

“Today was recon. Tomorrow is a course of action. It’s simple enough.”

“Is it dangerous?”

“It’s always dangerous,” he shrugs with one shoulder. There’s a glint in his eye, he seems to like the thrill. “You ready?”

“Ready,” you nod and follow him out of your room. As you’re leaving, Corelle walks by and gives you a look. You shake your head ‘no’ signaling her not to do anything.

“Who’s that?” Poe asks after you’re out of earshot.

“My roommate,” you huff out a laugh. “Seriously Poe, should I be worried about you?”

“About me and your roommate?” he’s teasing, “nah. She’s not my type.”

“Poe, I mean it.”

“So do I,” he shrugs again.

“Poe!” you grab his arm and stop him in the hall. “I’m serious. How dangerous is this? I can’t- “

“Can’t what?” his hand reaches for your hand on his sleeve. The touch of his skin is warm.

“I can’t lose another one, I just can’t. Not you.” A small tear falls down your cheek, and with a gentle finger he sweeps it away.

“You’re not going to lose me.”

By now you’ve reached the hangar, and the ship has cooled enough to work on it. Immediately can see a hole on one of the wings. It’s an easy fix but you’ll have to rewire some things.

“That’s why I need you,” he points to the hole. “I don’t know how to rewire that. I’m here to help however you need.”

“I’ll need BB-8 to help me on this one. And some caf. Lots of caf.”

Poe nods and whistles. You hear BB-8 beep and roll in your direction.

“You help her, ok? Do whatever she says. I’ll be right back.”

BB-8 looks from Poe to you, then rolls up towards you. BB-8 makes a little beep, and you assume that means it’s alright. You grab your tools and BB-8 shines a light on the hole so you both can see the damage.

Poe comes back from the cantina with two metal cups of caf in his hands.

“It’s not very hot I’m afraid,” he says handing you a cup. Your fingers touch his and the warmth from his skin will always send shivers down your spine.

“It’s alright, I just need the caffeine.”

Poe takes a sip of his, and he frowns in distaste. He likes it hot. He smacks his lips and without a word, he holds the caf cup over to BB-8. To which then BB-8 sticks out an arm with a little flame on the it under Poe’s cup. You smile to see them so in sync. At the same time the flame extinguishes, and Poe brings the mug back to his lips. That’s not the first time they have done that.

“I could never do what you do,” Poe remarks leaning against the wing. He sips his caf watching you and BB-8 reconnect and meld wires together. “I know a little, just enough to get by. But not like that.” He motions towards the hole.

“It just takes practice. I could never do what you do,” you mimic him and nod your head in the direction of the ship’s cabin.

“Takes practice for that too. I grew up flying with my mom. I think I was 6 years old when I started learning?”

“So, you weren’t ever scared?” you put down the tool and lift your safety goggles to look at him.

“If I was, I don’t remember. But I’ll tell you a secret, I’m always a little scared before I go up.”

“Every time?”

“Every time,” he nods.

“That’s why I don’t want to fly. I’m too scared,” you admit. “I prefer to be on the ground.”

“Don’t you want to see the stars?” he asks, leaning forward a little. There’s no scoff in his tone, he isn’t bothered you don’t like to fly. “I’d like to show you the stars sometime.”

“I don’t mind looking from here,” you blush, his flirting is becoming a little more direct. Is this really happening?

“You know, you’d be in good hands. I’ll take care of you,” he sips his caf again. Is he talking about actual flight or something else?

“Are you making fun of me?” you laugh.

“I’m not I swear!” he laughs back. “If you want me to take you up there sometime, I’d be happy to that’s all. I could ease some of that fear you carry.”

“Ok,” you let out a shuddery breath, “when you come back from this next mission, I’ll let you take me up.”

His grin starts small and grows wide. “Alright!”

You shake your head with a laugh and put your goggles back on. You’re attaching the last wire when it shocks your fingertip. You hiss and pull your hand back and examine it. There’s a big red welp on the tip of your pointer finger. It stings. Wincing, you shake your hand, but then pull it back to your body to put pressure on it.

“Here,” Poe puts down his cup. “Let me see.”

You wince again sticking your hand out to his. He gingerly takes your hand in his and rubs his thumb over the welp.

“Ow!” you jerk back, but he only tightens his grip. His skin is so smooth, and you want to be mad at him, but you can’t because he’s holding your hand.

“Sorry,” he whispers back. He’s looking intently at your fingertip; his lashes look so beautiful, and you see a long crease run up the length of his forehead. Then in an unexpected move, he brings your hand to his mouth and he closes his lips around your finger. He soothes the burn with his tongue and the way he’s looking at you sends a jolt to your belly.

He pulls your finger from his lips with a slight pop, and you’re completely stunned. His grin is slight, but devilish.

“I want you down here tomorrow before we leave. I need to see my good luck charm before I go,” there’s that smile again. One hand is still holding your injured one, his spit is beginning to dry in the cool night air on your finger. His other hand reaches up and tucks a fallen lock of hair back behind your ear. If you didn’t know any better, he was about to kiss you. You teeter backwards when you feel his thumb press on your pulse point on your wrist, and you bump your caf cup onto the floor. It falls with a loud clang, and the caf gets everywhere.

You pull from his grasp, the caf cup offering you an out. Not that you want to be out of his touch, but the way he’s looking at you is making your head spin. Surely your face must be on fire and he can see that he sparked the flame. His gaze is only further stoking the fire.

The caffeine and the adrenaline in your system has your head spinning and you barely remember the walk back to your room.

He’d casually winked and gave you a goodnight, acting as though he didn’t just suck on your finger and give you ideas of where else you’d like to feel his mouth.

“He’s just nervous before the mission tomorrow,” you tell Corelle. You’re still in shock, that has to be it right? He’s just nervous because he said he got nervous to fly and maybe he just flirts when he’s nervous? Right?

“Whoa,” Corelle laughs, “calm down!”

“I can’t calm down,” you sigh, pacing the floor of your small shared room.

“He obviously likes you. I mean come on, it’s right there plain as day! You have to tell him how you feel tomorrow.”

“Is this really happening?”

“He might be nervous before the mission, but did you ever think he’s trying to tell you how he feels before he leaves?”

“He sure has a funny way of doing it,” you flush, your finger still burns – not from the actual burn, but the burn from his lips.

“You’re not doing any better! Just go up to him and give him a big wet kiss before he leaves.”

“Oh, I am not doing that!”

“Why not? It’ll send the message loud and clear!”

“That’s not exactly how I want my first kiss to go…” you admit.

“It’s the perfect time- wait you mean your first one ever?” she asks. You shrug, you’re embarrassed. “Well then that’s absolutely the perfect time!!”

You bury your face in your hands with a sigh. This is not happening.

It’s another night of little sleep. Most of it’s due to caffeine, it’s been an exciting and overwhelming day to say the least.

When your eyes open in the morning, anxiety is pulling at your mind. Your stomach turns and your hands feel clammy. All throughout the night when you should’ve been asleep, you thought about what you’d like to say to him. You’re not sure you’ll have the guts to. You went over and over the argument in your mind, that he’s risking his life for the cause, and you can barely get out a few simple words.

The hallways to the hangar are already bustling this early. They all have a job to do. Your pulse is pounding in your ears, the energy is high on days like today, multiple emotions fill everyone’s minds. You have an added stress and you don’t know what to do about it. Well, you know what to do, but you’re afraid to do it.

You’re early, earlier than Poe. You assume he’s getting his orders; you don’t see any other pilots around yet in the hangar either.

You feel like you’re going to be sick, a cold sweat makes your skin feel clammy. You jump sky high when Corelle comes up behind you.

“Well??” she asks.

“Well what?” you shake your head and try to calm yourself down. You run your diagnostics while she follows you around. You already double checked everything last night, so this morning is just to run through one more time.

“Did you tell him???”

“No, he’s not even here yet. And what am I supposed to say? ‘Hi Poe, I’m in love with you! Be safe on your mission!’”

No sooner had the words left your lips did you hear the familiar rolling sound of BB-8. You glance down in horror to see the droid, he turns his little head, he obviously heard you.

“BB-8, please don’t- “you panic.

“’BB-8 please don’t’ what?” you hear Poe’s voice clear through all the chaos.

“Don’t- let anything happen to you!” you manage to get out. BB-8 beeps up at Poe, you don’t understand what the droid says. Poe’s eyebrows crease, he only nods at his droid companion.

“I’ll be fine,” he touches your arm. “Everything looking good?”

“You’re all ready to go!” you give him the confirmation. With that he starts to climb up the ladder to the cockpit. Your heart is beating so loud in your ears, you gotta tell him now. You could tell him when he comes back, but what if he doesn’t come back? “Poe, I-“ you have to yell now because the engines are powering up, and it’s loud. “Be careful!” you shout, and he gives you a little salute before the hatch slides closed.

It was all so loud, then comes the quiet after the ships all make the jump to lightspeed. There’s ringing in your ears from regret in the deafening silence. Tears begin to fall, and you cover your face with your hand.

“What’s wrong?” you hear a kind voice behind you. You sniffle and turn to see General Organa standing behind you, she places a gentle hand on your shoulder.

You swallow, trying to collect yourself. You’ve only spoken with her a few times, it’s always an honor.

“I’m in love with him,” your voice breaks. “And I didn’t even get to tell him. I had every opportunity.”

“He knows,” she pats your back with a smile, she speaks from experience. “I saw the way he looked at you. I know him well, and I know that look.”

You sniffle again, hoping she’s right.

“He’s also told me a lot about you. Says you’re the best mechanic he’s ever seen.”

“He told you about me?” your cheeks warm and she chuckles softly.

“You’ll have your hands full with that one, but he’s a good man. One of the best.” She knows more than she says, but you can tell from her tone that he cares for you too.

“How do you love someone who risks his life? Did you not worry?”

“I always worried. You must know why he’s in this fight. What he’s fighting for.”

Feeling comforted by her words, you thank her and take your leave. Going to the cantina, you meet up with other mechanics and others who must wait now for the pilots and ground fighters to return. There’s light chit-chat throughout the cantina, some people find it easier to talk and laugh to push past their obvious nerves. It’s a strange feeling, knowing you’re in the fight but you’re here, not out there doing it. You have no control over what happens, but you’ve done the best you can, and your role is still important.

You think back to when you first met Poe officially. It felt like ages ago when you were a new recruit. Your emotions still raw from losing your family to the First Order. You were among an early group in the Resistance. Poe and General Organa were there to greet everyone. You remember shaking Poe’s hand, and from then on, your crush had blossomed.

It seems like a lifetime ago, when you were just meeting him. Now you’re almost on the verge of tears again at the thought of losing him.

The rest of the day and the next are agony. Waiting for him and everyone to come back, just hoping everyone is safe – and knowing not everyone will return home.

Since your job is mechanics and maintenance, you’re not involved with a lot of the intel being shared. You only hear through others what’s going on. Normally you don’t particularly care, you have your job and that’s that. But right now, you’d do anything to know what’s going on and if Poe is safe. If this mission is as dangerous as you’ve heard, you want your anxieties eased.

The command center is in contact with the pilots, but you don’t have the clearance to go in. And your reasons are personal, not professional.

It’s been a few days now, and you find yourself in the cantina often. It’s the best place to glean information. Poe’s name has come up a few times, which you’ll take – it’s an indication he’s alive.

From what you’ve gathered, they will be returning to base this afternoon.

The last few days have gone by so slowly, especially with nothing to do. Then that afternoon comes, and things seem more accelerated. X-Wing and Y-Wing squadrons come in, then the ground troop transports. It’s an obvious victory because everyone is celebrating.

But in the chaos, you still haven’t seen Poe. You don’t see his X-Wing anywhere in the hangar. There’s a considerable number of them gone, killed in action. You feel tears prick up in your eyes, where is he?? There’s cheering and laughing all around you, but you won’t join in until you find him.

Through the hangar you can see outside the base, and several ships have landed there. Through the crowd of people and ships, you can see the familiar orange painted X-Wing you know like the back of your hand.

Running outside, you can see Poe climbing out of the ship down the ladder. Tears fall down your cheeks freely now, he’s back. You haven’t missed your chance.

He’s still a bit of a distance away, but through the crowd he sees you. His smile splits his face and he takes off in a run towards you. The tears keep falling and your vision is blurry, but it’s enough to see him run to you.

When he reaches you, he cups your face in his hands and kisses you deeply. One hand holds your face, then he wraps his other arm around cupping the back of your head. His chest his heaving as his lips move with yours. You’re still crying hugging him to you. Your fingers weave into his sweaty curls and he pulls back for air.

“Hi,” he whispers, chest still heaving.

“Hi,” you sniffle, still running your fingers through his hair. “Poe, listen I need to tell you-“

“I know,” he smiles, then laughs, “I know.” He presses a few more kisses to your lips then to your cheek. “BB-8 told me.”

You shake your head and look down at the little droid who is ‘hiding’ behind Poe’s leg.

“And I heard you,” his thumb rubs across your cheek.

Your cheeks warm and you avert your gaze.

“Hey,” he ducks his head, so you’ll look at him. “I feel the same about you, ya know.”

“You love me?” the words are caught in your throat.

“I do,” he laughs as if he can’t believe he’s finally getting to say it out loud, “I love you. I have for awhile now,” he smiles and averts his gaze for a beat, raking his hand through his curls. Is that shyness in his smile you see?

You don’t waste the opportunity to kiss him again. Your hands find his cheeks and you could die from finally getting to feel his stubble under your fingertips.

“I’m so glad you’re back safe,” you sigh, hugging him to you after the kiss. You’re not sure how long you’ve been in each other’s embrace, but you don’t care.

“It’s all because of you,” he murmurs in your ear, there’s a smile in his voice.

“I didn’t do anything different with the ship?”

“It has nothing to do with the ship,” he says pulling back to look at you, “it has everything to do with you. I needed to get back here to you.”

“Yeah?”

“Yeah,” he kisses your cheek. “I need to go to the briefing, but I’ll be right back ok? Wait, how about you just come with me?”

“I thought I didn’t have the clearance for that?”

“Who said that?” his eyebrows crease, “you’re coming with.” He sticks out his hand and you take it. His fingers interlock with yours, and he pulls his hand up to kiss the back of your hand. “I need my good luck charm with me.”

He leads you by the hand to the command center. You’ve only been in here once or twice, you can’t remember. The leaders of the Resistance are standing around the circle in the middle of the room. General Organa is nearby, and when she sees your hand in Poe’s, she gives you a little wink.

It overwhelms you in the best way that Poe has just decided he wants to be seen with you. He doesn’t make a show of it, but he doesn’t hide when he presses a kiss to your cheek before leaving you to join the others in the middle of the room. You sit down not far behind him and listen.

You don’t understand most of what he says as far as technical battle things are concerned, but it doesn’t matter to you now. Your lips are tingling from the many kisses he’s already given you. And you have never liked the color orange as much as you do right now. His shoulders look so broad, and even though not many people look good in those orange flight suits, it cannot hide that he has a wonderful ass.

After the meeting is over and the crowd begins to mingle, Poe turns to find you. You’re quick to grab his hand again and lean onto his shoulder.

“Wanna get something to eat?” he asks, his voice low through the buzz of the crowd.

“Yes please, just don’t blindly pick something this time?” you tease elbowing him.

“Absolutely not!” he laughs, walking with you down to the cantina. Most people are heading there now, and you like being seen holding hands with him. As his mechanic, you’d been seen with him plenty, but not like this.

You get your food and sit down together in the crowded cantina. His right hand is busy with a fork, guiding food to his mouth, his left hand is gently resting on your thigh. He’s not teasing or squeezing. It’s just gently resting, he rubs his hand up and down a little, these small affectionate touches are going to kill you, you think.

It makes so much sense he’s like this. He goes all in, headfirst into everything. It makes sense now that you’re his – he’s showing it to you.

He is teasing you a little, if accidentally. But you suspect he knows. Because when his hand nears your upper thigh, it sends a shiver in between your legs and down to your toes. He sees the shiver out of the corner of his eye, and he smirks to himself.

“I knew it!” you hear a voice nearby, it’s a friend of Poe’s. A couple others stand nearby and exchange credits.

“Knew what?” you ask.

“How long it’d be before-“ he motions between the two of you. “We were waiting for Dameron to get his head out of the sky and do something,” he claps Poe on his shoulder. You flush, and Poe shakes his head with a shy smile.

You finish eating before him, he’s been busy chatting with you and friends who came to sit down with you. So, after you’re done and he’s finishing, you rest your head on his shoulder.

“Tired?” he murmurs, so only you can hear.

“A little. Not as tired as you are, I imagine!”

“Don’t fall asleep on me yet, sweetheart. I’ve got a surprise for you.” The pet name and the promise of surprise send a jolt right to your heart.

Just then, across the room, you see Corelle. Her eyes widen seeing your head on his shoulder, she gives you a look like “am I seeing what I think I’m seeing?”

You smile, and she gives you a big thumbs up. You can’t help but laugh.

“What is it?” Poe smiles hearing you laugh.

“My roommate, she’s been pushing me towards you since she knew about my crush.”

“You have a crush on me?” he teases and takes a bite of food, “that’s news to me.”

“Poe,” you laugh and sit up, playfully shoving his shoulder. He only chuckles fondly. He holds your gaze for a moment, his eyes soft. There’s that ever-present glint of the thrill, but his gaze is gentle. This is how he’s always looked at you. How are you just now seeing that this was a look of love? Were you so blind by your love for him that you didn’t realize he felt the same way back?

“You ready for your surprise now?” he pulls you from your thoughts, and you see his plate is clean.

“I don’t know, am I?” you raise an eyebrow in question.

“I guess we’ll see,” he grins and stands. He says goodbye to the people still eating and chatting. He takes your tray and stacks it on top of his to throw it out.

“You know,” he says taking your hand again. “I really do owe you.”

“For what?”

“Hearing that you love me, that was what was in my mind during the course of the mission. I had to get back to you. It was so strong. I’m only sorry I didn’t tell you how I felt before I left.”

“I suppose I knew too,” you lean into him, “Leia might have mentioned a few things.”

“She did?” he shakes his head.

“And well, your uh ‘remedy’ for my burnt finger was pretty telling.” His laugh is so loud it echoes down the hall. You’ve never seen him this happy before, and it’s all because of you. “Where are you taking me?”

“You’ll see!”

The path is familiar and it’s clear soon enough that he’s taking you out to the X-Wing.

“How is this a surprise? I’m too tired to check anything.”

“I am offended you would think that’s why I brought you out here,” he feigns being shocked. “I want to give you a flying lesson. You said when I got back,” he grins and grabs both of your hands pulling you towards the ship. His shoulders sway and he flows like he’s dancing.

“Poe, I don’t know.”

“We’re not going to actually fly right now. You have my word,” he touches his hand over his heart. “I’m only going to show you the controls inside. I’m not even going to power it up.”

“Ok,” you sigh, nodding.

“It’s ok to be scared,” he offers. “It’s a dangerous machine, you know that. It’s not a toy. I only want to ease your mind a little, if you’ll let me?”

“I trust you.”

“Good.” He turns and starts to climb into the cockpit. “You coming?” He calls once he’s down inside.

“Where am I supposed to sit?” you ask him climbing up the ladder and looking down at him in the cockpit. It’s such a small space.

“My lap,” he says so casually as if that’s the most obvious answer, he pats his thighs and you can’t deny yourself. His thighs have been something you’ve thought of often.

It takes some maneuvering, but you get settled on his lap. He’s sitting forward a little with you balancing on his legs. His arms reach around you to show you the controls. He picks up one of your hands and places it on top of his, “like this,” he tells you, his voice right behind your ear. His breath moves your hair by your ear, it tickles.

“Every ship is different, but they each run in a similar way. You just have to figure out what way works best.”

“Just like people,” you think.

“That’s right,” he smiles, “that’s right.”

“Do you really want me to learn how to fly?” you ask him. You know he said he wants to ease your mind, but you wonder if this is important to him somehow.

“I would never make you, not ever. Besides, with me around you’ll never have to fly,” he pinches your side making you giggle. “and you know what? The stars are just as beautiful right here,” he points up to the night sky.

He leans back a little, and your body goes with his. Your back resting against his chest. The air feels thicker now inside, there’s an electricity and it hits you hard. The way his hands feel have a heated feeling; it reminds you of how he touched your finger when it was burnt.

“You know,” he purrs in your ear, his hands moving up to clasp the zipper of your jumpsuit. “There are other ways I can show you the stars.”

Your breath and pulse begin to quicken as he lowers the zipper. Once it’s lowered enough, he slips his hand in and cups your breast through your undershirt inside the suit. You let out a choked groan and shudder against him, laying your head back on his shoulder. His hand burns through your shirt and you can feel him hardening against your ass.

“Poe,” you gasp out. His hand is kneading your flesh, and his other hand is blazing a trail to where you can only guess is between your legs. But you stop him. “Wait,” you sit upright.

“Too fast?” his voice is quiet in your ear.

All you can do is nod your head yes. It’s all happened so fast today. You hadn’t registered until this moment that being official with him now means the physical bonds would be forming soon. You’re not even sure how to tell him he’s going to be your first.

Thunder rumbles overhead, causing you both to look up to see clouds rolling in, covering the stars.

“Alright let’s go,” he starts to guide you up and out. “We don’t need to be in this thing and get struck by lightning.”

He pushes a button and the cockpit cover slides over to seal off the cabin from the rain once you’re both on the ground

It starts to rain heavily, and you can’t help but smile at the feeling.

“You’re beautiful,” Poe looks at you smiling in the rain.

“I could say the same to you.” His curls are starting to tighten from the water. They look perfect.

“Let’s get inside yeah? This thing is starting to itch,” he tugs at the collar of his flight suit. You wonder if that has anything to do with you.

Once inside the main hangar, you start your walk down to your rooms.

“I’m sorry about earlier,” you start.

“No, I’m sorry, I shouldn’t have moved so fast.”

“I liked it,” you flush, “it’s just, I’ve never done this.” Your voice gets small. “I don’t know what I’m doing. I was embarrassed to tell you,” you say sheepishly. “Today when you kissed me-“

“That was your first kiss?” he groans and buries his face in his hands. “I’m an idiot,” he laughs.

You’re laughing now, feeling relieved. Seeing him flustered looks good on him, you think.

“You’re not,” you rub his shoulder, “that was the best first kiss I think I could have ever gotten.”

“Ok tell you what, go get some clothes to sleep in and come to my quarters tonight. To sleep.” He tacks on the last sentence when he sees a slight change in your expression.

“Oh,” you laugh just now seeing that you’re in front of the doorway to your room. You push the code and see Corelle sitting on her bed. When she sees Poe in the door, and you rifling through your drawer to get some sleep clothes, she has the biggest grin on her face.

“Sleepover huh?”

You turn to look at her, biting your lip.

“I want to hear everything!!” she whispers.

“You know I can hear you right?” Poe laughs, leaning now on the doorframe.

She only shrugs and gives you a wave when you head out.

“So, will we bother your roommate?”

“Don’t have one,” he replies punching his digit code when you reach his room. It makes sense you think, he’s a high-ranking member of the Resistance. He would have seniority with things of this nature. “BB-8 is my roommate,” he chuckles pointing to the droid in the corner. He’s powered down and charging.

“Make yourself at home, I’m going to get cleaned up, I’ll be quick.”

You sit down in a chair in front of a small desk. He opens a drawer and pulls out his own sleep clothes.

“Be right back,” he gives you a nod. His curls still wet, bounce as his head moves.

The refresher door in his room hisses behind him, and soon you hear running water. While he’s getting cleaned up, you get undressed quickly and put on your sleep clothes. It’s a standard issue pair of pants and comfortable shirt. It’s precautionary. The material while comfortable is durable in case of a quick evac.

Once you’ve changed, you sit down on the chair again and look around his room. His favorite leather jacket is draped over the back of the chair, and there’s a holopad on the desk. There’s a couple metal caf cups on the desk, one has caf still in it. There’s a shirt on the floor, and his helmet is near BB-8.

There’s something about being in his room that feels surreal but calming all at once.

Knowing he’s just on the other side of that door (naked) and wants you here with him.

You try not to think too much about him being naked in there because the reality of intimacy has your stomach flipping.

Then you hear something, pulling you from your thoughts. It’s his voice. At first you wonder if he’s talking to you, but then you realize he’s singing. He’s singing loudly, and voice is clear and beautiful. There’s almost a melancholy tone to it, but you can tell he’s happy. You are not familiar with the song, but it’s your new favorite one. You think you could listen to him sing forever.

The water shuts off, and he still hums. You can hear him moving around, what you guess is drying off and putting on his clothes.

The refresher door hisses loudly, and you jump a little, being in his room has you feeling all sorts of good jitters.

“Cold?” he asks, he’d seen you jump, mistaking it for a chill.

You try not to stare; you really do try. But he’s damp and shirtless and this is the most skin you’ve seen from him other than his shirts exposing his neck to you. He’s wearing the same sleep pants you are, but they look so much better on him. His skin is tan, his build is strong. There’s a small chain around his neck with a ring on it, and he has a towel draped over his shoulder to dry his hair. The curls are dripping water onto his back and shoulders. You’re staring.

“No,” you blush, “I was thinking about something and the door startled me.”

“You’re a bit skittish, aren’t you?” He smiles and grabs your head gently, planting a loud kiss on the top of your head. “I didn’t mean to scare you. I know I come on strong.”

You wave your hand, “don’t worry about it.” You like it.

He flops down casually on his bed. He looks like an absolute dream laying there. He’s propped up on his elbow looking at you.

“What’s the necklace?” you nod towards him. Immediately his fingers reach for it and he flips the ring over and over.

“My mother’s ring. She died when I was very young, I don’t remember much. One of the memories I do remember is when she gave me this. She told me to give it to someone who deserved it, deserved my love.”

“It’s beautiful,” you notice the shine of it, it looks new.

“It is,” he looks down at it, then drops it from his fingers, the chain catching it and it bounces against his chest. “c’mere,” he whispers and nods his head. He reaches his hand out for you and gets you situated in the bed next to him. You lay on your back while he’s propped up next to you.

“I’m nervous,” you whisper up at him.

“I can tell,” he smiles, but there’s concern on his face, “and I don’t want you to be. I want to make you feel good sweetheart. We’ll take one step at a time, just like the flying lesson. Sound good?”

“Yes,” you grin up at him and pull him down for a kiss. At first, it’s sweet kisses, but then you feel Poe’s tongue teasing your lips. Guessing what he wants, you part your lips for him and sigh at the new feeling. His tongue touches yours and you can’t help the giggle that bubbles up.

“You’re adorable,” Poe muses, your lips parting.

Feeling flustered, again, you cover your face with your hands, and you groan, “you’re making me blush.”

“Mm, sweetheart,” he laughs, “it’s not hard to do that. I’ve been making you blush since day one. Don’t think I haven’t seen. Even when you tried to hide it from me,” he whispers in your ear, kissing it then. “Still adorable.”

He’s positioned himself on top of you now, he’s burying his face in the crook of your neck. You wrap your arms around him and bury your fingers into his drying curls. He’s quiet, just breathing slowly. His breath fans against your skin.

“Is this real?” you whisper. “I’m afraid it’s a dream and I’m going to wake up.”

“Oh, I’m very real,” he murmurs into your neck. He shimmies down a little so that his head is resting on your chest, his ear over your heart. He can hear your pulse quicken, and he smiles to himself.

“Don’t say it,” you roll your eyes laughing, fully aware that your body is betraying you.

“Say what? That I just felt your heart rate spike?” He lifts his head and rests his chin on your sternum looking up at you. Your hands haven’t left his curls, you bring a hand down to cradle his face. He leans into your touch, and you rub your thumb along his stubbly cheek. You feel his dimple under your palm when he smiles up at you. “I think something…has you excited…” he trails off licking his lips. “or maybe a someone.”

“I wonder who it is?” you tease back. Now your thumb is rubbing along his bottom lip. Playfully growling, he play bites your thumb making you laugh.

He lets go of your thumb and closes his eyes; he loves the feeling of your fingers in his hair. He’s practically purring as your fingers scratch his scalp.

“It’s just,” you start to say, but you can’t find the words. His eyes open at the sound of your voice.

“What? We’ll wait as long as you need sweetheart.” He finishes the sentence with kissing your thumb.

“It’s not that. What if I’m not any good? You know? In bed?”

“Nonsense,” he lays his head back down on your chest, wrapping his arms around your body and squeezing.

“What if you’ve had better?”

“Well I’m not with them right, now am I? Don’t compare yourself. Don’t. Whatever we have is between you and me. No one else.”

“I’m still nervous for you to see me.”

“And I cannot wait to see you, but sweetheart, I’m happy to hold you right now. I’ve found a nice pillow.”

You snort out a laugh.

“Give me your hand,” you tell him.

He shifts sitting upright, “ok which one?”

“Right,” you tell him. And he extends his wrist towards you. His hand limp and his palm facing upwards. His eyebrow is raised in question wondering what you’re doing.

You turn his palm over and bring his hand down to your left breast. He cups the flesh in his hand, but he doesn’t move. He wants to so bad, but he’s waiting for you.

“Ok now give me your other hand.”

He repeats the same action and gives you his left. You put his hand on your right breast.

“Baby what are you doing? I said we don’t-“

“They may not be perfect, but I like how your hands feel.”

He gives an experimental squeeze, gauging your reaction. You gasp when he squeezes and the corner of his mouth lifts in a smirk. He starts to knead your breasts, digging his fingers in and massaging them. He can feel your nipples poke through your shirt into his palms.

“See, I think they are perfect.” He continues his ministrations. “Know why?” he questions, making sure you see his face.

“Why?” you whimper, it feels so good.

“Because when I do this-“ he pauses and pinches your nipples between his forefingers and thumbs. When he does, you arch your back and cry out. His chuckle is dark but playful, “you’ll do that.”

You’re feeling breathless, but you need more. You want the shirt off, you need to know what his hands feel like on bare skin.

“Poe,” your voice quivers, he’s still teasing your nipples through your shirt.

“Too much?” He pulls back, he doesn’t want to overdo it.

“Not enough,” you writhe a little under him. “If I take off my shirt, will you turn off the light?” you blush hard under his gaze. His smile is so fond, he lets out a soft laugh and lays his forehead down on your chest to hide his laugh. “Don’t laugh!” you laugh yourself knowing he means no harm.

“I can’t help it,” he lifts his head, his smile is huge, “you’re just so damn sweet. It’s killing me.” He gives you a quick kiss with a little hum before getting up to turn off the overhead light.

“You sure it’s not silly?” you look up at him walking back towards the bed in the dark. Your eyes are already starting to adjust.

“I can’t get enough,” he grins sitting upright beside you on the bed. “Who wouldn’t love this?”

“You’re so calm though, and I’m not.”

“Oh yeah?” He raises a brow and takes your hand in his. He puts your hand over his heart, and it’s beating as fast as yours. “I told you I always get the jitters before I fly.” He winks, the euphemism not lost on you.

You’re still laying on your back, his hands reach for the hem of your shirt. When his fingertips brush against the skin of your stomach, you start to giggle.

“Uh-oh, are you ticklish?” his voice is playful in the dark.

“Poe, no!” you squeal as he starts to shove his hands under your shirt and tickle your sides and tummy. He has you laughing so hard you forget you’re nervous and he pulls your shirt off quickly.

“Oh, you think you’re smooth, don’t you?”

“Hey that was pretty slick if I do say so myself sweetheart.”

Even in the dark you can see his eyes drink you in. Your heart pounds and your head pushes back into the pillow when he cups your breasts again, this time skin to skin.

“That feels so much better doesn’t it?” he asks kneading your flesh.

“So much,” you gasp. His hands do feel amazing. You’ve always loved his hands. They’re big and warm, smooth yet a little rough. But his touch is never aggressive. Now though that he’s squeezing you, his touch is firm.

“Can I try something?” he looks at you for an answer.

You nod, still whimpering under his touch. Your whimpers turn into a soft cry when he lowers his head to your breast and closes his lips around your nipple. He sucks gently and teases you with his tongue. You feel slick between your thighs, you have for a while now, but you’re soaked through.

“Poe,” you whine and start to rub yourself along his thigh nestled between your legs, “touch me please. Oh. OH. Please!” you’re gasp trying to find relief of the building pressure.

Without removing his mouth, he lowers a hand down the waistband of your pants and underwear. His middle finger touches your clit and you cry out, finally feeling a wave of relief. He circles your clit with his finger in time with how his tongue tweaks your nipple, his other finger teasing your other nipple. Your cries let him know you’re close and he quickens the pace of his fingers. You let out a ragged gasp when you come, and you become silent as your chest heaves. You’re probably pulling on his hair too harshly, but he hasn’t complained.

“Good girl,” he praises, pulling away from your breast. His mouth goes to your neck to kiss. “You did so good.”

“Poe, I-“

“Breathe baby,” he smiles, “breathe.”

“You feel so good,” you sigh, your body limp.

“Hmm, thank you,” he teases, kissing your cheek. “Funny, I was going to say the same about you.”

You wriggle around under him, the sticky between your legs is starting to feel uncomfortable. Sensing this, Poe sits up.

“Go get cleaned up,” he smooths your hair out of your face. “Normally I’d do that for you.” But he’s going to let you have your privacy in this moment. “There’s clean rags in the closest.”

Blushing hard, you disappear into the refresher to clean yourself up with the rag. You don’t take long because you feel like you should make him feel good too, even though you have no idea what to do.

The refresher light seems so bright and seeing yourself topless in his mirror has you flushing again. Your lips are swollen from his kisses, your hair is a mess.

Once you’re clean, you’re feeling all giddy from your high. You’re about to jump back into bed when you hear a soft snoring. At first you think he’s faking; he’s got such a funny sense of humor it seems like him.

“Poe?” you whisper.

“Hmm?” he mumbles out, his eyes twitching. He’s laying on his stomach.

“I’m getting back in bed,” you tell him.

“Ok,” he smacks his lips and nods his head.

You do your best and slide under the covers. You’re on your back, and you grab his arm, placing it across your middle. His arm wraps around you, his forearm just under your breasts. In his sleepy state, he nuzzles his face into your neck. You rub your hands along his skin, feeling the hair on his arm.

The poor thing, you think. He’s had a long couple of days. You’re not even sure when he last slept after that long mission. It warms your heart he stayed up with you as late as he did tonight.

You finally have a restful sleep. You’re not worried for his safety, because he’s in your arms right now, you can feel his body move with each breath. There’s no more worrying about admitting how you feel because if there was, you wouldn’t be in this bed. It is a restful sleep, finally. Finally.

Until the next morning when you both wake to an alarm blaring. Poe bolts upright and you jump – you’d forgotten where you were. He leaps out of bed and wakes BB-8.

“Get dressed,” he tells you and throws you your clothes. You barely register that you’re half naked and exposed to him in the light, but you’re panicking from this alarm.

“What’s going on?” you’re scared.

“That’s the evacuation alarm,” he says while he pulls on his pants. He grabs that shirt off the floor and tugs it on. Then he goes for his flight suit, pulling it on over his clothes. “here,” he takes his leather jacket off the back of the chair and hands it to you. “Hold onto this for me will ya?”

Once you’re dressed, you put his jacket on over your work jumpsuit. It makes you feel safer somehow, it smells like him.

He opens his door, and there’s already people running to their stations to evacuate. Poe motions for BB-8, they’ll head to the X-Wing.

“Where do I go?” you know the protocol, but in the moment your mind is muddled, and panic has set in.

“Hey,” he cups your face in his hands, “breathe baby. Go find Leia. Get on a transport out of here. I gotta go do my thing, but I will find you. I will find you.” He kisses your lips and then your forehead.

At least you can be with him until you get to the hangar. But then you have to split up. You fight back tears, you just got him and now you have to leave him again. You just want this all to be over.

You get on the transport and anxiety floods your veins. You don’t want to be off the ground. You know you have to do this, but there’s still that fear that always comes with being in a ship out in space. You don’t feel safe. You want nothing more than for Poe to be here with you, to help you through this. You think back to what he said that he’s always nervous before he goes up, you just never found out what it is that calms him.

Wait.

Of course, you know what it is that makes him calm. It’s you.

You’re the good luck charm, and he’s yours. Your fingers touch the worn leather of the jacket you’re wearing, you know now why he gave it to you to wear. To remind you he’s still with you. Tightening the jacket around yourself when the ship takes off into the atmosphere keeps you calm.

There’s a battle of enemy ships outside the window. Soon you’re far enough away they are too small to make out what’s happening, but you know he’s in the thick of it. There’s nothing for you to do now except watch out the window. No assignments have been given, and most people who have jobs to do are doing it. There’s nothing you can do but watch and hope that he stays safe.

When the short-lived battle ends, you watch for that familiar X-Wing to fly into the hangar of the transport. You make your way towards that hangar to greet him. You see Corelle nearby and a few other mechanics in the area waiting for their respective pilots to return.

As soon as Poe lands, he jumps out of the ship, BB-8 right behind him. He runs to greet you at the doorway, but a First Order ship fires into the hangar, setting off an explosion. The force of the blast sends Poe and BB-8 forward, Poe’s body knocks you backwards. Everyone that was inside the hangar was lost, including Corelle.

Poe groans getting off you, apologizing profusely and checking your face to see if you’re alright.

“Corelle was in there,” you cry, looking through the doorway and seeing the wreckage. You start to try to get up, Poe stops you. Smoke billows and flames are everywhere. Even Poe’s X-Wing has been completely destroyed. “Your ship!” shock taking over.

“Hey, look at me,” he cups your face, “I don’t care about the ship, are you alright?”

You feel a pain in your side, then you feel dizzy. Poe calls your name, but he sounds far away and looks blurry. The last thing you see before you blackout is Poe’s face, panic written all over his expression.

For the next few days, you slip in and out of consciousness. There are moments you can remember in little flashes.

You remember Poe coming to check on you. His voice a gentle whisper asking if you’re alright. Another time, his voice cracks asking for an update.

You remember feeling Poe’s hand holding yours, feeling the press of his lips to your forehead.

You remember hearing someone say, “the war is almost over, it’ll be over soon.”

And they would be right. The war is almost over. While you’ve been out the past couple days, the Resistance has found allies across the galaxy to gather for one last battle. Poe hated to leave you, but he knew you were in safe hands and he has a duty to fulfill. He had to fight for you out there, while you fought for your life here at the new base.

When you finally came to after a few days under, Poe is sitting next to you in med bay. He’s asleep. His leather jacket draping over his torso as a makeshift blanket. He’s resting his cheek on his fist; his other hand is holding yours.

“Poe,” you whisper. You have no idea what time it is, and you feel disoriented. But one thing’s for sure is he looks so cute when he’s asleep. It feels like a lifetime ago when you were cuddled up with him in his bed, when really it was only just last week. “Poe?”

“I’m awake!” he jerks up with a sniff and a grunt. When his tired eyes land on you, he blinks softly as a soft grin turns into a full-blown smile, “hi sweetheart.”

“Hi,” you answer back. As you get your bearings, you feel a soreness in your side. You wince when you sit up, and Poe is quick to help you adjust in the bed.

“Easy, you got hit pretty bad.”

“What happened?” you try to remember but all you remember is the explosion, Poe falling on top of you and Corelle.

Corelle.

Tears begin to well up in your eyes. You think of the other friends you lost that day, that it could have been Poe if he hadn’t gotten out when he did.

“Hey, shhh,” he dries your tears and kisses your forehead, “you’re safe. You got hit with some debris. Knocked you out for a couple days.”

“General?” you hear a nurse approach you and Poe when she sees you’re awake. “Sorry to interrupt but I’d like to check her vitals now that she’s awake.”

“Of course,” Poe nods and stands, moving out of her way.

“How are you feeling?” she asks you, but you’re trying to process what you think you just heard. General? What did you miss?

“I’m a little tender still, I feel a little out of it.”

“Those are common side effects from the bacta spray. With some rest you’ll be good as new very soon,” she smiles and enters something in her holopad. “I’ll be back later to check on you alright?”

She nods at you and then Poe thanks her again.

“General?” is the first word out of your mouth as soon as she’s gone. “What?”

“I was…. promoted,” he nods his head, his eyes look sad. “We lost Leia. She named me general before she-“ his shoulders slump.

Rank has always been important to Poe. He wants to succeed. But in reaching the top, it meant sacrifice. And this was a loss he wasn’t ready to lose.

“Are you okay?” you ask sitting up, his hand hasn’t left yours and you squeeze.

“I’ll be alright,” he nods. You’re safe and that’s what matters now to him. “Especially now that it’s over.”

“It’s over? Like over, over?” your frown turns to a bright smile. Can it really be over?

“It’s over,” he grins.

“I can’t believe it!” you laugh sitting up slowly. When you pull your hand from his, you see a familiar ring on your finger. “Is this what I think it is?” you ask holding your hand up to look at the ring.

“It is,” he clears his throat, his fingers running through his hair.

“Don’t tell me I missed the wedding too?”

Poe throws his head back laughing, “no, no. I thought I’d wait for you to be awake for that one.”

Over the next few days while you heal, Poe wraps things up on the new base. Now that the fight is over, life will begin to trickle back to the new normal without the First Order. Poe oversees the transitions as general. He appointed Finn co-general so the weight can be distributed.

Now is the perfect time for it, because Poe has other things on his mind.

There’s a buzz all over the base now, people wondering when your wedding will be. There’s already been 4 in the last week. The relief of the war is getting to everyone in such a positive manner.

You spend a day or two extra recovering. Since the piece of metal that hit you had nicked a couple organs, you had major surgery. You had to have time to heal. You were given strict orders for ‘no strenuous activity’ for a couple weeks at least. Poe found this very amusing, but also disappointing.

You’re just as disappointed as him. You have his ring on your finger, all that’s left is to seal the deal officially.

While you heal and Poe gets affairs in order, you spend a lot of time in his quarters now on this new base. In his bed and in his arms is your favorite place to be.

It’s harder on you than him to wait a few days more before you can be intimate. The press of his body against yours at night has you aching in your heart and between your legs. But you can’t complain, his arms and his kisses sustain you plenty.

You spend hours in each other’s arms, kissing until you’re sleepy. He’s a skilled kisser. Skilled as in, he’s quick to figure out what you like and what you don’t.

How he’s this patient with you, you’ll never know. But he would never forgive himself if you were hurt because he couldn’t wait a couple days for sex. He already feels guilt from not protecting you from the hunk of metal hitting your body. His body was blocking yours but still managed to hit you and not him.

He’s currently kissing your neck, with you under him. They aren’t heated kisses, they’re soft and tender. Dragging his lips along the column of your neck, throwing in little nibbles.

“How are you feeling?” he murmurs been kisses. “Answer me honestly.”

“I feel good. Tomorrow is when they said it would be ok for ‘activity.’”

“Let’s get married tomorrow then,” he whispers kissing under your ear.

“Okay,” you giggle wrapping your arms around him tight.

So, you do. You get one last approval from med bay that you’re safe for ‘activities.’ Poe leaves you to that and he disappears, he tells you before he leaves to meet him in hangar 4.

Your time as a mechanic meant that you didn’t have pretty clothes. Everything you owned was either for working or sleeping. But now that there is more order, you managed to get your hands on a dress to wear. You can’t even remember the last time you wore a dress. Poe certainly hasn’t seen you one in your months of being together.

So, before you meet him, you put on your dress. It’s flowy and elegant and accentuates all your curves in the right places. You do the final touches of your hair looking in his mirror. You know he’ll be so surprised to see you like this.

You walk alone to the hangar, and it’s noticeably quiet. There’s a tremor in your hands, and your knees quake with each step as you walk closer. This is really happening. You only wish Corelle was here to see it.

When you reach the hangar and walk inside, you gasp. The entire base is here. Cheers erupt when you walk in, and you flush under the attention. Poe is standing at the opposite end; the crowd has to part so you can walk down to him.

He looks so handsome, the smile on his face is pouring out of him. His eyes are bright. His hair is somewhat tame, which makes you smile, meaning he had to put effort into taming it. He’s wearing a nice jacket you’ve never seen before, it’s black and clean. He looks wonderful.

He’s thinking the same about you, your smile is radiant, and it knocked the breath out of him to see you in that dress.

When you get closer to him, he reaches his hand out for you to take. There’s a slight shake to his hand too.

“You ready?” he whispers, thumb rubbing over the back of your hand.

Your smile is so big that tears begin to well up in your eyes, “yes,” you whisper back.

The ceremony is very short, and you leap into his arms to kiss him. His hand is strong on your back, and his fist shoots up in the air in a celebration. The audience cheers, and BB-8 nearby beeps happily.

“Happy beeps, that’s right buddy,” Poe laughs hearing his droid over the crowd. “Happy beeps,” he says to you, that smile still in his eyes.

Poe sets you down and the party begins. But the two of you make your exit for his – your quarters.

Taking your hand, you’re both giggling making your ‘escape’ to your quarters. The moment the door opens, he’s on you. His hands on your hips, and his lips on yours. His tamed hair has your hands in it now, messing it up and setting the curls loose. You push his jacket off as he pushes you up against a wall.

His hands are quick, he’s careful to pull on your dress to take it off without damaging it. You all but yank his shirt off his body. Your dress is pooled now at your feet, the only thing keeping you from total nudity is a pair of underwear.

You reach for Poe’s belt, but your hands start to shake a little. His hands clutch yours, and he glances up at you.

“Hey,” he leans in and steals a quick kiss, “it’s ok. It’s just me.” He unbuckles his belt and tugs his own pants off, leaving him in shorts that are tightening around his bulge. You look down at him, and back up to his face quickly, your eyes wide and face hot. His smirk is playful, he likes seeing you check out his body.

Grabbing your hips, he starts to back you up against the bed. His hand cradles the back of your neck as he lays you down. He looks down at you and grins, and his feet slip, and he almost falls on top of you, making you both laugh. He cups your face and kisses you all over, you haven’t stopped laughing.

“Hey, I remember these,” he muses when he reaches down to cup your breasts. You cry out and he only laughs, he’s proud of himself.

“Poe, I swear,” you groan when he thumbs over your nipples.

“You’ll what?” he challenges, raising his eyebrow. He tweaks your nipples and your cry is weak escaping your lips.

With some sense in your head, you reach down in between you and cup his length through his shorts. He lets out a choked groan, “ok well played,” he rasps out and pushes your hand away.

His hands wander down to your stomach, and he finds that scar above your hip. He traces over it with his thumb, looking up at you – you know what that look means. He’s glad you’re alive. That scar will always be a reminder.

He doesn’t linger on the thought, instead he fingers dance along your underwear.

“Can I?” he asks hooking his fingers in the band. He waits for you to nod before he pulls them down your legs exposing you to him. You wriggle a little unnerved at him seeing you, his hands steady your hips and he looks up at your face. “It’s ok,” he smiles again. “I’ve already been down here remember?” he winks.

You’re slick already from the excitement, so when he teases a finger at your entrance it slides in easily. His thumb teases your clit until you’re ready to take another finger. His thumb brushes back and forth, while his fingers pump in and out. Quick precise pilot hands are working you over and that thought alone brings you close to the edge.

“One more,” he coos and adds a third finger. It’s a tight squeeze but his thumb is getting you to relax. When he curls his fingers deep inside, you groan louder than you had before. “There it is,” he grins and leans down to kiss your cheek. “You’re doing so good sweetheart, so so good.”

When your orgasm hits you, your mouth falls open and no sound comes but ragged breaths.

“Come on,” he coos working you through the last few waves of it. You groan loudly when you come down, and he’s pleased, “that’s it baby. Let me hear you.”

While you catch your breath, he stands to slip off his shorts that are uncomfortable now. You glance down to see him, he’s hard. His hand lazily pumps himself a couple times, and you swallow down a gulp of nerves. He’s bigger than you anticipated.

Crawling back on the bed, he hovers over you. He wears the chain around his neck still even though there’s no ring on it, and this chain while dangling, touches along your chest. He situates himself between your legs, pulling your legs up and around his waist. You can feel his tip at your entrance, and he waits for you to breathe before he guides himself inside.

He moves slowly, it’s a pinch at first. It’s a snug fit but the feeling of being full feels wonderful. He breathes out himself, trying to stay still. One little thrust from his hips could hurt if you’re not ready. When he feels you relax, he starts to move.

His thrusts are quick and precise at first, his kisses are hot, and his mouth drags along your skin. Your fingers never leave his curls. His mouth focuses on a nipple for awhile as he thrusts, only adding to your pleasure. His body rubs along your clit perfectly, bringing on another orgasm.

That’s when his thrusts become sloppy. He grunts and sits up, bringing you with him. You’re sitting on his thighs and he buries his face in your breasts. His stubble scrapes along sensitive skin. The new position pushes him deeper inside, and another orgasm follows close behind the one you just had. You hold his head to your breast and throw your head back while his body moves. He stops suddenly and groans when his cock jumps inside you, spilling himself in you.

“Oh,” is all you can say, whimpering as you still pulse around him as he softens inside of you.

“Mhmm,” he hums, his eyes heavy from the intense pleasure.

“Just like flying right?” you laugh.

“Oh yeah,” he laughs back, “ push some buttons, toggle some controls, move the stick around…just like flying.”

“Stop,” you laugh at his terrible analogy.

“You saw some stars, though didn’t you?” he winks.

He’s not wrong there.

“Tomorrow,” you tell him.

“Tomorrow what?” he replies, slipping out of your heat.

“I’ll let you take me up flying, for real. Just not in the X-Wing.”

“Really?” he’s excited now. He jumps up and goes in the refresher to get a rag to clean you. You stare at his bare ass as he moves, and it’s even more perfect than you had imagined.

“Yes really,” you laugh when he comes back.

He turns around and looks behind him when he gets back on the bed, “is there something behind me?”

When your cheeks darken, he tuts.

“Checkin’ out my ass huh?”

“Poe, honestly,” you laugh shoving his chest while he starts to clean your thighs, “how can you be so sweet but such an-“

“Ass?”

“I really hate you,” you laugh, “and all your bad jokes.”

“That’s hurtful.”

You spent the rest of the night laughing at more bad jokes and tangled up in his arms. And he took you flying that next morning.

It’s a small spacecraft, room enough for the both of you to sit comfortably. It takes a lot of coaxing and kisses before you’re comfortable going in the ship, but he never leaves your side. His jacket is around your shoulders, and his hand is in yours.

He sits in the pilot seat and flicks on all the controls, makes some jokes, and soon you are up in the air and going into space.

He tells you what to do to make the jump to light speed, and you follow his instructions perfectly.

“I don’t want to look out the window,” you say suddenly. The bright blue streaks of stars fill the view from the window, and it makes you feel dizzy.

“C’mere,” he pats his lap. Facing him, you straddle his lap and curl into his arms. At first you thought, hoped, he wanted you to ride his thigh (which you will later) but for now you enjoy the comfort of your husband’s arms and chest.

-FIVE YEARS LATER-

The Resistance has faded into a normal better life in the galaxy. Poe still holds the title of General. You’re not actually 100% about that? But you plan on calling him that for the rest of your lives. He likes it when you use it bed.

You’ve made a home for yourselves back on Poe’s home world of Yavin IV. You still work as a mechanic, and Poe flies when he can.

But now that you have the new baby, your lives have been turned upside down.

“When do you think I’ll be able to take her up to fly with me?” Poe’s carrying her in his arms, walking towards you. You’re outside oiling the X-Wing.

“Poe, she’s three months old!” you shake your head and pull him in for a kiss. Your fingers pet his beard and he kisses you once more.

“My mom took me up when I was 6!” he argues and starts to press kisses on his baby’s face.

“I’m just not comfortable with you taking little Corelle up yet. But I am going to let you teach her to fly.”

“I’ll teach her on this old thing,” he pats on his X-Wing. “It’s were you were conceived!” he tells her.

“Poe!” you smack his thigh with your work rag.

“Well she was, if you recall.”

“Oh, I recall,” you feel your neck flush. “When you teach her to fly just don’t tell her that, please.”

You kiss your daughters little head and then Poe’s bristly cheek. Then you kneel to get back to work.

“You’ll teach her mechanics too,” Poe muses watching you, “she’ll be able to build her own ships and then fly ‘em!” He bounces her on his hip. He starts to hum a song; one you’ve not heard in years.

“That song!” you gasp. The memory comes flooding back. “I don’t think I’ve heard you sing that since…”

“Since?” Poe stops his humming to look up at you.

“I remember you singing it in the refresher that night, the first night I stayed with you.”

“I can’t believe you remember that!” his smile is fond.

“Of course, I do, I remember everything about that night! One of the best nights of my life.”

“Yeah, I was pretty great wasn’t I?” He laughs earning him another smack on his leg. You turn away from him then ‘ignoring him’ but it’s not working, because he won’t be ignored, and you’re not really mad. Poe clears his throat, he’s checking out your ass as you work, “do you think BB-8 can babysit?”

You turn around and lower your goggles, looking at him.

“What are you going to tell him exactly?”

“The truth? What? It’s not like he doesn’t know.”

“Well I don’t want him to know that’s what we’re doing out here!” you’re standing now, laughing. Poe’s right next to you kissing your neck. He nuzzles his beard against your skin.

“I’ll tell him…. we’re going on a flight. See some stars.”

“Ok fine, General Dameron. Show me the stars.”

tagging: @pajamasecrets, @huliabitch, @egertonunwin, @writefightandflightclub, @coredrive, @swimmingbyrd, @maciiiofficial, @mrpascals, @vintagemichelle91, @thescarletknight2014, @captinbisexuality, @tarrevizslas, @a-heavenly-way-to-die, @artemiseamoon, @poedameronflyboy, @mostly-megan, @takenbyfandoms, @islandcrow, @dreamgirl-67, @omg-so-many-fandoms, @pinkiemme, @ccordiform, @frvstratixn, @ginger-swag-rapunzel, @zombiedixon89, @loki-098, @flower-petal-blooming, @thy-enchanted-cookie, @theindiealto, @jigglemiwa, @smolpeachees, @breashlyn2000

#poe dameron #poe dameron x reader #poe dameron imagine #dameron #star wars #my writing #my gifs #mine #I'M SO GLAD TO BE ABLE TO FINALLY POST THIS!!!!!!!!!!#I HOPE YALL LIKE IT

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forthehpfanboys · 4 years

Text

Quidditch and T

Pair: Ron Weasley x Reader; he/him; transmasculine reader.

Summary: Harry surprises Ron with tickets to the Quidditch World Cup after the war, after Hermione and after finding out Ron has a crush on the first professional trans masculine the Chudley Canons or the World Cup has ever seen.

Warnings: Swearing, Alcohol, tiny amount of transphobia?? super long, focuses on Ron more than it should, super long and probably really bad.

Notes: Trans masculine reader again! We love to see it- No one asked for this but I liked the idea. Also, Ron has long hair because I love him and Harry is a good friend. The bestest of friends.

~DO NOT REPOST ANYWHERE~

Even with the second wizarding war years behind them, everyone struggled to regain control over themselves. Loved ones were lost far too soon, strained relationships came crashing down and businesses all but shattered like glass, but that was a year or two after. Families were beginning to recover and move forward, but some struggled. It was only natural, that was why the Ministry decided to bring at least a tiny bit of normality back to everyone's life with the Quidditch World Cup. They thought it would bring some light in the barely lit times everyone lived in.

While life for some was morphing back to a semi stable state, times were transitioning to a new era. Of course, no one batted an eye or fought against her when the Hermione Jean Granger demanded rights for wizards, witches and sorcerers who were, for lack of a better word, different. Not after everything she’d done for the world with Harry Potter and Ron Weasley and especially not after S.P.E.W. The world really was shifting for the better.

She created two acts for equality. If house elves can have it, why can’t magical humans who just- feel different. Hermione called it S.P.L.A.T.E.R, also known as Sorcerers Lover Protection Against The Everyday Routine, and it was meant to protect wizards and witches who desire relationships with the same sex against discrimination. The talented witch went on to create a similar movement against portraying gender and identity; The Sorcerer’s Typical Identity or Gender May Alter Shield, better known as S.T.I.G.M.A.S. Both were very welcomed by the public, which happened a good year before the game would be returning, and that led to you gaining your dream job.

You were able to join the Chudley Cannons, your dream team despite their reputation. You were naturally talented on a broom and weren’t afraid to pull some risky stunts to get the golden snitch, plus it fueled your ego to hear the crowd gasp, go silent then cheer loud enough to be heard from Mars. The team and their fans didn’t care that you were the only trans masculine player, in fact, they loved you! The team was very proud to have you be their seeker and it was even better when the Cannons got into the World Cup. You basically carried the team, and they fucking knew it.

Your face made the front page almost weekly, quoting comments from your games and showing off your merchandise like it was no big deal. While you caught the attention of many wizards, witches and magical humans in between, there was one who was absolutely fascinated, maybe borderline obsessed, with you. You somehow stuck in his head, causing him to repaint his room in his shared flat bright orange just like his childhood bedroom. The ex-auror even went as far as getting your newly printed poster. He would glance at it when he was writing letters to his mother, but then would spend a good few solid minutes staring at it, daydreaming about meeting you and lose track of time. Life got a little harder with the moving poster in his room. Of course you had no idea the famous Ron Weasley was a die-hard fan of yours.

The youngest Weasley son ended up being the first out of three up everyday just to read the newest info about (Y/n) ‘Point Breaker’ (L/n) and the rest of the team. He didn’t want to admit it, but he knew enough about you to be considered a borderline stalker and couldn’t help but spew facts about you to his twin brothers. Those very twins would tease him about his newly found crush but were secrealty very happy that he was getting over his heart break.

Ron and Hermione, more Hermione, had decided splitting and remaining friends was better for them, leading to the poor bloke locked in the spare room of his older brother's flat for a solid week. They told everyone it was mutual, but it was clear to Fred, George and Harry that it was most definitely not a decision that they were both fond of. Harry could still remember the frantic howler he got from Fred and George saying their little brother all but stopped functioning as a human.

He only started eating and showering once he heard the team was up and running again. He figured that was why Harry showed up to the flat one afternoon with tickets to the sold out game. When Ron asked his best mate how he got them, he just smiled and said something about knowing people and favors being exchanged. The ticket was more like a bandage encased in clear plastic and stuck to a lanyard, which is what Ron was fiddling with the day of the game when his best friend suddenly appeared in the middle of the flat.

“Bloody hell, Harry!” Ron screeched out as he steadied himself in his chair. His hand gripped at the shirt on his chest and chose to ignore the head rushing to his cheeks. “Could’ve sent me a warning!” He let out a slow sigh, trying to steady his rapid heart beat.

“Where’s the fun in that?” Harry laughed out. The professor had his hands in his jacket pocket, a sly grin across his face. “Come on then! Game’s gonna be starting soon!” The raven haired male all but yaned his freckle covered friend out of the chair.

“Ok! Ok, sheesh. Let me grab a jacket.” The red-head knew this was going to be a game that leaked late into the night. Both teams were itching to get the trophy and forget about their troubles- It was gonna be absolutely beautiful.

Grabbing his coat and reaching into the pocket, Ron pulled out an elastic band and put his hair up into a messy bun quickly before tucking the jacket into his arm. He walked over to Harry, who was gazing at the photo-covered walls of the flat.

“If you want, I can take ca-” Harry was cut off by Ron grabbed his hand.

“No, it’s fine. I like it like this.” Ron shook his head back and forth causing the messy ball to swap back and forth. “Come on. You were the one rushing us.” Harry let out a simple chuckle before apperating them to the field.

“Tadah!” Harry did a fancy little wave, gesturing to the crowded field and began to make his way down the hell, passing by the old boot. Ron looked down at it as they passed before looking back at his best friend.

“Damn, it has been far too long.” Ron sighed out. A smile broke out across his face when he saw little kids running around with paint covered faces and happy couples sharing tea outside of their tents. “Do we have a tent?”

“Nope, won’t be needing one this time around.” Harry shoved his hands in his pants pocket.

“No ten- Blimey, Harry, this is a game! This is going to go on for hours-”

“Ron-”

“Won’t need it my arse. Hours, Harry. Where are we going to sit? The damp ground?” Ron was flaring his hands about.

“We get to spend our time in the Minister’s Box, Ron, relax.” Harry shook his head in mock disapproval before adjusting his glasses and moving forward.

“Minister’s Box-” Ron’s voice stuttered out.

“Yeah! Isn’t that cool? We’re gonna be in the middle of the action!” Harry waved to a child who had recognized him with a smile.

“Ministry box-” Ron was’t used to such luguries, even after working with his brothers at their shop. Harry figured he’d never get used to being spoiled like this. It made him choke back a soft snicker.

“Yes, Ronald, the Minister’s Box, now hurry up! I told them we’d get there before the game started so we can chat.” Harry grabbed the lagging boy’s wrist and proceeded to maneuver through the crowd with him.

“How did ya score this, Harry?” Ron all but yelled over the crowd. Once Harry dragged them through the crowd and to the front doors of the stadium, he spoke up.

“Remember when we went on that assignment to stop LeStrange again? Just before her Dementors Kiss about a month before we quit?” He handed the ticketier his lanyard to check over. Ron did the same before they both entered.

“Yeah? What about it?” Ron’s blue eyes glanced across the crowded inside. Gods, it really had been a while since he’d been here. It felt normal, like he almost hadn’t lost Fred to an explosion, like Harry’s life wasn’t on the line everyday, like every day wasn’t terrifying. Ron turned his attention back to his friend when he spoke up again.

“Well just before that, I went on a loner mission. This one involved taking care of some dark witch who was claiming she could bring back the dead and threatened to bring back Voldemort and the Death Eaters, so they sent me down to check it out.” Harry led him to an elevator, where the gate opened allowing the pair to step in. There was an exhausted looking male standing in uniform, most likely a worker from the Ministry himself. “Ministers Box, kind sir. Thank you.” The gate closed with a shuttering rattle and soon they were moving upward. Green eyes turned back to blue to finish the story. “Anyway, turns out she was actually trying to resurrect the noseless twat, but instead of over time or promotion, I asked for this and the best seats in the house. Figured this would be a good gift for you.”

“Gift? Harry, bud, mate, my fuckin best friend.” Ron placed a hand on Harry’s shoulder. “You didn’t have to do this for me. You’ve already done your fair share of helping me. Blimey, I’m not worth this.”

The gate opened again, allowing the two ex-aurors to step out but not before tossing a few sickles to the poor man who looked bored out of his mind. Ron casted him a short wave before he was sent back down.

“You deserve more than a crummy game and a nice seat, Ronnie. You literally helped me destroy Voldemort.”

“I didn’t do that much and besides it’s not a crummy game!” Ron took his hand away from Harry's shoulder. They walked down the short hallway to the door leading to their seats, but paused just before opening it. “That’s fuckin wild, isn’t it?” Ron grumbled out. “Was she smooched by a Dementor in the end?”

“Yup. All her research was swiped and burned. Anyone and everyone she knew was obliviated. Now enough talk about old work, let’s relax.” Harry spoke before opening the door and allowed Ron to walk in first.

The room was bigger than Gred and Forge’s flat, Ron was sure of it. It had silvery blue walls and a huge open window in the front, showing off the screaming fans and showed the entire field which held the perfect view. He couldn’t help his eyes from darting across the fancy black leather seats and the buckets of ice holding expensive bottles of wine, flasks of firewhiskey and glass pitchers giggle water and suddenly Ron wanted to cry and simultaneously brag to Malfoy. Sure, he hadn’t seen the blonde in a year or so but it’d be nice. The red-head didn’t realise he was drifting toward the giant window until someone spoke up, snapping him out of his thoughts.

“Ah! Mr. Potter! Mr. Weadley, I’m so glad you could make it!” A wizard dressed in a suit came scurrying over, his chapeign glass almost overflowing with foam.

“It’s Weasley, actually.” Harry didn't hesitate to speak up. “But of course! I was thrilled when Ron decided to come with me! I couldn’t have caught that witch without him. Anyway, where will we be seated?” Harry was using his Auror Voice™ while Ron stood there, trying to recall how on earth he helped his best friend with a case he wasn’t even on.

“I did wh-?” Ron was interrupted.

“Ah. My apologies. Of course, of course.” The man in the suit adjusted his tie before gesturing to the window in the front with his glass.. “Front row, just as you requested.” He took a sip from his glass before walking off to the seat he came from, talking to the witch next to him.

Harry thanked the man before grabbing Ron’s wrist and bringing him over to their seats. He sat Ron at the seat right in the middle of the big opening. Harry could actually see his friends blue eyes gloss over with tears, causing Harry to chuckle into his hand. It was so worth fighting that witch and staying in St. Mungos for a week with a concussion, broken hand and a stupid spell that nearly killed him.

“Bloody fucking hell, Harry. What did you do to get these seats?” Ron’s voice did little to hide his excitement. Harry released a chuckle over his friend's excitement, but the sound got louder when Ron literally threw his jacket haphazardly onto the seat only for it to fall to the tiled floor.

“I already told you. Don’t worry about it.” Harry took his seat as he grabbed a bottle of wine from the ice bucket on the coffee table at their feet. He examined the label before nodding his head and popping open the cork.

“Wish I had a camera. Ginny would’ve loved this.” Ron walked past the table to the window, resting his hands on the railing and leaning over, looking across the field.

“Ron, she’s a professional coach-” Harry rolled his eyes, testing the wine with a small sip. He set the dark, tall bottle down on the table with a clank.

“Fred and George then.” Ron turned back to his friend and walked over, plopping himself down in his seat with confidence. Harry snorted, almost dropped his drink all over himself. This was therapeutic; he got to spend time with his best friend without the ever looming death threat of Nose-less Snakey Man breathing down his neck.

“Yes, I’m sure their jealous tears could flood the shop.” Harry’s voice was filled with sarcasm and it had Ron laughing too. Harry checked his watch while the giggling red-head grabbed an empty glass at the table in front of them and poured himself a shot of firewhiskey. “It’s about 5:53. Game should be starting at 6 something.” He turned to Ron, casting him a smile while he brought his glass to his lips. “Wanna talk about your newest boyfriend or should I ask him for the details myself?”

Ron almost spat out his drink, his hand coming up quickly to catch the dribbles falling off his lips. Blood rushed to his cheeks, ears and before he knew it, he was bright red. He wiped his hands on his jeans, his bottom lip drawn between his teeth.

“I’m sorry, my what? Harry, I’d be lucky if he gave me the time of day let alone be my boyfriend!” Ron ran his hands through his hair, his eyes cast downward into his drink. “I mean, have you seen me lately?” He gestured to himself. “I’m a bloody mess. He could do better anyway.”

“You’re not a mess, Ron, anything but. In fact, you’re probably more put together than I am. Ginny would beg to differ, but I’m sure it’s true.” Harry shook his head in disapproval before taking another sip from his glass. “Besides, you’re a good guy. You did get Mione to fall for you and you are kinda well known, aren't you? I say you got a better chance than most.” Once the niorette male finished, he turned to look at his friend who nodded his head in silent agreement before deciding to change the topic.

“How is Gin, by the way?”

Harry answered with a long explanation that she was good, but one of her chaser’s kept giving her trouble and didn’t believe Ginny was good for the team. The Harpies would be starting their first game soon and Ron made a note to buy a ticket. The questions came around to his brothers, of course, so Ron

“Hey! Good for them!” Harry refilled his drink once it was finished and put the glass back in the ice bucket. “And good for you.” Harry checked his watch again when it beeped out, indicating the change in hour. “Game time!”

The room went silent as the minister walked over to the window, doing his usual speech, but no one was really listening. Ron's legs were bouncing with excitement while his eyes looked across the white, green and orange fans waving flags. Ron should’ve known it would've been the Kenmare Kestrels duking it out against the Chudleys Cannons.

The crowds were going absolutely ballistic over the Kestrels and the screaming only seemed to get louder once the Cannon’s made their appearance. He watched the players zoom past the window, felt the air rush past him and before he could control himself, Ron was back at the railing, practically leaning over. His eyes bounced around the orange and black colored players for the new seeker.

“Harry!” Ron gestured pathetically behind him. “Harry! Come here! Look-” Ron pointed across the field to the seeker who was taking circles in the middle, taking in the crowd. He couldn’t help but stare at your confident smirk as you pulled the goggles over your eyes, casting the crowd a wink. The red-head basically melted.

“Godric, your smitten, aren’t you?” Harry was leaning against the railing next to his friend, his glass still in hand. A smirk came across his lips when his friend turned red again.

“Shut it.”

“You a Cannon fan, Mr.Wealsey?”

The two ex-aurors turned to see the man who approached them earlier coming to Ron’s free side. The man held a cocky grin and a new drink in his hand, most likely giggle water. The red-head turned back to the game once the whistle sounded.

“Yeah. Have been for years.” Ron didn’t take his eyes off the field.

“Huh, even with their sour reputation? I’m more of a Bats fan, myself. Wouldn’t count this game in favor of the Chudley’s though, new seeker and all.” The man scoffed before sipping his drink. “Good seekers are hard to find. Hogwarts was lucky to have you though, Mr. Potter. Should’ve played Quidditch professionally, if you ask me.”

The two males shared a look with each other and came to the conclusion it’d be better to not fight the man on his clearly biased opinion and clear ass kissing. The pair gazed on, ignoring the crowd forming behind them the longer the game went on. Ron almost shoved his friend over when the announcer yelled you spotted the snitch. Ron blinked and you were standing on your broom, balancing perfectly, leaned over, golden snitch just a few inches from your fingertips.

“He’s a risky bloke, isn’t he?” Harry spoke up, hands going to his chaotic locks. “Gdoric, he’s gonna fall!” He squealed out when your foot shifted just a little too far on the broom.

“He’s bonkers.” Sir Pompous sneered out over his fancy drink, causing Ron to audible groan.

“Sod off, will you?” Ron was so fucking sick of this man. “Stop bein’ pissy he has more balls than you and he was born without them.” He shot the suited wizard a glare before turning back to the game. He let out a cheer when you finally grasped the snitch, plopping yourself down on the broom. The freckled male turned to Sir Pompous and smirked. “So.. Wouldn’t put this game in their favor, huh?”

The wizard turned on his heel, grumbling what the two friends assumed to be insults as he walked shamefully to his seat. Harry and Ron clinked glasses, giggling like school girls as they took a victory shot. They sat back in their seats, discussing games and just over all basking in the win.

“Godric, I could get used to living like this.” Ron sat back, spreading his legs and just feeling confident. Harry rolled his eyes.

“I can’t afford to do this all the time, Ron.”

“I can dream, can’t I?” Ron didn’t blink twice when the door to the ministers box opened or when two voices spoke up. He was busy relaxing.

“It’s an honor to meet you, Coach Dorkins! The Chudley’s have always been my favorite-” The same kiss ass from earlier, spewing the same pompous bullshit as earlier. Ron was gonna fake a gag, but he hesitated. Coach Dorkins? Coach of the- of his favorite team?

“Ah, well, thank you, but I’m just here to drop off Point Breaker.” As your coach went on with his arm now wrapped around you. Ron whipped around, his jaw was dropping to the floor. “Got a favor to fill in for an old friend. Ah, there he is! Potter!”

“Nice to see you again.” Harry stood up and shook hands with the coach. Ron’s blue eyes bounced between his old friend, his favorite coach and his favorite player. What the fuck was going on? Ron shrunk into his seat when you glanced over. He was acutely aware of his messy outfit and hair and- did he brush his teeth? “Ah! I should introduce you to my good friend, Ronald Weasley-” Harry waved over to his friend, a smile on his face. Ron stood up as well, but almost fell into his chair when he saw you shaking hands with his old friend and suddenly everyone was turning to him.

“Uh-hi-” When did his voice get all high pitched and creaky again. He cleared his throat, wiping his hands on his jeans before shaking hands with the coach. “Sorry, big fan.”

Dorkins shook his head, saying how he understood between deep chuckles. The male then turned to you, who was standing by his side. He introduced you to the red-head while you held a similar, nervous smile on your face. You held your hand out as you spoke up finally.

“I know all about you, Mr. Weasley. Well, no not- Wait, not everything like.. Like everything everything, like um- I.. well- Ok, let me start again.” You cleared your throat, shaking the ex-aurors hand. “Hi, I’m (Y/n). I’m a fan, Mr. Weasley.”

Ron was just kinda shaking your hand, confusion filled in his brain. He was just running over your rambling and was so confused.

“You’re a fan of me?”

“The famous auror? Of course!” You were grinning now and he found himself just staring at you. The two of you missed how Potter and Dorkins were chuckling about star struck fans and wondered somewhere else in the room.

“You played great today-” Ron almost blurted out, his voice turning prepubescent again.

“Thank you! You don’t think it was too much? Too flashy?”

“No, no, I’d say it has the perfect amount of flash.” Ron shot you a lopsided smile. The smile allowed you to relax some, the star struck tension between the two of you almost dispersing completely as you joked back and forth. You soon found yourself sitting in Harry's abandoned seat, chatting away like you had been friends since your school years.

“So then- then- hold on, stop laughing-Haha! No, shh! We stole my dad's car just to save him! My brothers didn’t even try to talk me out of it! The only thing my older brother said was “yeah, get the car. We’re gonna find out if it’s considered kidnapping if we’re children"! Mum really chewed us out when we got back that mornin’!” Ron finished his 7th story that night while you were enjoying a nice glass of cold water. You couldn’t get over his terrible impressions of his brothers. More than a few times his stories led to you almost choking on your drink or just letting out a loud laugh.

You told him some stories about your life at home too and only got encouraged by his snickering behind his own drink. You were so open with him, telling him stories of quidditch practice and the strange gifts you got from fans, his favorite being a bra with your face hand painted on it.

More time passed by as you chatted, finally coming around to just playing 20 questions just day to day stuff. Now, it was your turn to ask a question and honestly, the game shouldn’t even be called 20 questions, it was more like 500 questions.

“Ok. Ok. Is it true that you had a thing for Krum?” You grinned when his cheeks turned red. “I heard from a chaser that you were here when we got on the field and our keeper was willing to bet his life on this rumor that you had a fling with Krum.”

“N-no, no fling! Just uh- more of a sexual awakening, if you will.” Ron snorted out, rubbing the back of his neck. His eyes turned away from yours for the first time that night, casting his gaze out across the empty field.

“Ooh! What is the great Ron Weasley’s sexual preference?” You leaned forward, your grin turning to a teasing smirk. You put a hand on his shoulder when he started stuttering over his words. “Come on! You can tell me! I don’t spill secrets.”

“Would hot quidditch players be an acceptable answer?” Ron was playing with a spare ponytail holder on his wrist now, his face turning redder.

“I’d say so.” You smiled, setting down your water glass.

“What about you?”

“What?”

“I told you mine. It’s only fair, Point Breaker. Spill it.” It was Ron’s turn to get cocky as you blushed.

“May or may not be hot ex-aruros, but who’s keeping track.” You were not going to admit you’d been fanboying over the red-head since his face came across the Daily Profit. While he knew a lot about your game stats and quotes, you knew about the dark wizards he fought against, how he helped Granger and Potter and decided fighting was too much.

“Oh really?”

“I said maybe. Don’t get cocky. Besides, I could mean Harry-”

“I have a feeling you don’t mean him.”

“Well, what are you going to do about it?”

“How about a date?” Ron leaned back in his chair, gauging your reaction. He mentally sighed when you didn’t appear grossed out or scared.

“Hmm, let me think. “ You pretended to count stuff on your fingers before smiling at the red-head. “Leaky Cauldron?”

“Sure! Tuesday?”

“I’m free after 6.”

“Done.”

#ron weasley x male reader #ron weasley imagine #ron weasley x trans reader #ron weasley #harry is a good friend #male reader #trans male reader #hp x male reader #hp imagine #hp x trans reader #x male reader #x trans reader #Ronny Writes #fic #hp male fic #hp fic

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maxineswritingcenter · 3 years

Text

You Saved Me - Derek Hale x fem!reader part 21

--------------

What the hell....

Blinking slowly, the wolfsbane finally leaving my system. And I was not where I had been before. I was back at the Hale house in Derek’s bed. I pushed up on my wobbly arms and slowly slid out of the bed, stumbling to the hall and trying to find whoever did this to me-

Heart beat. It was strong, but there was a slight skip, bad heart. It couldn’t have been the Argents or else they would have taken me to the Argent’s. I slowly walked to the stairs, looking over the landing and down into the living room.

“Yes, sir, I have located Miss (Y/L/N).” That voice. That damn cocky voice. It was him.

Michael. That sly son of a bitch was alive. Why was it that all the psychos in Beacon Hills were coming back to life?

“Uh... Good evening.” He was looking up at me with those grey eyes of his. I knew them well. I had seen them so many times before, through good times and bad. And these were the worst times, weren’t they? Those grey eyes widened when I shifted. I jumped down from the top of the stairs, landing on my feet. He backed up a few steps, a nervous smile on his face.

“Ah... I see you’ve finally shifted. And you’re an alpha. Congrats.” He chuckled nervously, “I know you’re probably wondering ‘how is he alive? Right? Well it’s a very interesting story.”

“I don’t care.” I growled.

“L-Look, I can explain everything. Please.” He licked his lips, “Let’s talk.” If my heart wasn’t beating hard then it was now. All of my fear had turned to rage. He was here and alive. And he was a weak human man. And I’ll be damned if I let him get out of here alive. Not after what he’s done.

My roar was loud and long, enough to make him cover his ears. His heart was beating rapidly and he smelled of fear.

"Ok, um, how about we tussle a little, would that make you feel better?"

"I’m gonna rip your throat out with my teeth.”

His eyes widened, "Ah, well, uh, we can't do that, ya see, I'm... I’m supposed to be taking you to Scotland.” He was my guide? To take me to the Lunar Circle? I don’t think so.

I grabbed him by the collar and threw him against the wall. His back slammed against the wall, the same area that Peter had fallen through. He moaned in pain, struggling to sit up. I stalked closer, grabbing his shirt and roaring into his face. He was terrified and rightly so. I am a powerful werewolf alpha and I want him to be scared, to instill the fear he put in me by kidnapping me. The fear of death.

"(Y/N), please, listen to me, this is all a misunderstanding!" He pleaded. I pinned him down to the ground.

"Misunderstanding?" I spat, "You murdered my family! You tried to kill me!” I opened my mouth wide, rearing my head back to strike.

"PETER! IT WAS PETER!" His words made me pause, my fangs grazing the skin of his jugular. I pulled away from his neck, causing him to breathe a little easier.

“Start talking before I change my mind.” My grip tightened on his wrists that were pinned on either side of his head.

“I’m a part of the Lunar Circle. My family were hunters but I wanted out. You parents got me involved. I was a double agent. Until.” He swallowed thickly, “Until, a few years ago when Peter started using his influence to get into my mind. He wanted me to use my connection to the hunters to bring Kate Argent out of hiding and... Your parents became collateral damage.”

“Why would Peter do that?” I growled. It did sound like something Peter would do, but I couldn’t trust his word.

“Why wouldn’t Peter do that? He’s a total psychopath that wants mass hysteria.” He panted, “You believe that, don’t you?” Dammit, he’s right. I stood up, grabbing Michael by the collar and dragging him across the room. I shoved him to sit down in an empty chair.

"You're going to tell me everything.”

“O-Okay. Well, uh where do you want me to start?”

“The Lunar Circle.”

Michael let out a small laugh, probably in relief, “They, well, they’re a society based in Scotland meant to create a network of werewolves in communication. To keep families and clans protected from hunters and other things.”

“Other things?” I crossed my arms over my chest.

“I’ll get to those later. Anyway, I was assigned to your clan to keep them and, most importantly you, safe. Originally in two-thousand-four.”

2004

“It’s a pleasure to meet you.” He grinned. I looked him up and down, shaking his hand with my thumb and pointer finger instead of my whole hand.

After a long day of training with Talia and Laura, I walked through the front door. My parents were in the kitchen, talking seriously with someone, he looked around my age. He had dark hair and grey eyes. Average looking, seemingly ordinary.

”What’s going on in here?” I dropped my gym bag on the counter.

“This is Michael. He’s a representative from the Lunar Circle.” Dad said, patting the boy on the back. Michael stepped forward, holding his hand out.

Mom shook her head and laughed a little, “Well, yes, but he’s going to go into your school and watch out for you there.”

“Isn’t he a little young to be a representative?” I stepped around him, opening the fridge and grabbing a water bottle.

“Why? Dad has an agreement with the Argents.” I said before taking several long gulps of water.

“(Y/N), you can never be too careful.” Dad said seriously. His tone made her lower the bottle from her lips.

“How come the Hales don’t have a representative?”

“They didn’t want to join the circle. Talia thinks she can handle herself.” Her mother said, washing dishes in the sink. I raised an eyebrow at her.

“She can handle herself. Even with werewolves,” I looked at Michael, “It’s a man’s world, and women fight tooth and nail to get to the top.”

Dad smiled in a way that told me to straighten out my attitude, “Just humor me.”

I closed my eyes, blinking away the vision. My memories were coming back. But how? Maybe because he was here, he knew everything, it was jogging my memory.

“Tell me about the Hales.”

“Well,” He leaned back in the chair, “I know that they had an agreement with your parents, a treaty if you will. But they had to give up their alpha status. Alphas bring attention, sometimes it’s the bad kind. They gave their alpha sparks to you, thinking you would never turn.”

Tossing and turning, in and out of sleep. My parents had been on edge all day after a meeting with Talia. This would be a night that my parents told me I had dreamed about. They thought I had been asleep, but I was awake.

“Don’t wake her. This is going to hurt her, I can’t look at her when I hurt her.” Mom’s voice quivered, “(Y/D/N), do we really have to do this? Maybe if we talk to Talia-”

“(Y/M/N), we are drawing too much attention as it is being a two alpha pack in a town where there is already a large clan.” He said, “My agreement with Chris is strictly with him. I can’t say the same for the rest of them. The Hales are a powerful ally. This needs to happen now.”

“But what if she turns?”

“She won’t. We made sure that her change would be delayed.”

“Her dose a wolfsbane keeps going up. Her tolerance is going up. I don’t want to kill her by accident.”

“Well... There’s always the Wolf Eclipse...”

“No.” Mom said hurriedly, “I don’t know how that would affect her memories. She would forget Derek, he’s her best friend.”

“She has Stiles.”

“I love Stiles. you know that. But Talia would be furious.”

Dad sighed, “I’m tired of running. I want to raise her here. We have a home, friends. Plus... with Stiles’ mother being sick... it’s only a matter of time before the pain we take from her gets to be too much. It would kill Noah and Stiles to take (Y/N) away too.” He grunted, “Now. On the count of three.”

“One.... Two.... three.” A sharp pain stabbed into both my hips, pulling a shrill scream from my throat.

I held my head, all the new memories were pushing at a barrier inside of my head.

“What else?” I said, looking towards him as I paced back and forth in front of him.

“They tried to arrange a marriage between you and Derek.”

Derek and I couldn’t have been older than nine or ten, spying on our parents in another one of their serious meetings. They sat at the kitchen table, Talia with a devilish smile on her face. Her husband besides her, he was mostly a silent figure.

“(Y/D/N), (Y/M/N), I’m sure you know what this is about.”

“No, Talia.” Dad said, “Peter’s invitation was... vague.”

Talia chuckled, “My brother does have a touch for the dramatic.” She hummed, “You and I both know that your clan has diminished with (Y/N) as your only heir.” We were a small clan but I never realized that we were all that was left. Derek looked at me out of the corner of his eye, putting a hand on my back. We continued to listen in.

“We’re aware.” Dad said grimly.

Talia leaned forward, “Then I would like to propose... A proposal.” She tapped her fingers on the table, “Your daughter to be arranged with my son. In the event that anything happens to my daughters, (Y/N) would become the matriarch.” She smiled fondly, “Derek and (Y/N) already share a bond, why delay the inevitable?” Derek and I shared a glance. Us? Get married? Gross.

“No.” Dad shook his head, “Our daughter should choose her life partner.”

“Her mate?” Talia asked.

“An outdated term.” Mom chimed in.

“Hmmm.” Is all Talia replied with.

“What. Else?” I said between gritted teeth, leaning my head against the wall.

“Before the treaty, Talia tried to sneak you into their clan for you to train since your parents had no interest in training you to fight. She tried once when you were young, that’s when the treaty started.”

I was six, sliding down the big green swirly slide at the playground, at the bottom was Peter Hale. He caught me in his arms. He was twenty then.

“Well hello there.” He smiled.

“Hi Peter!” I opened my mouth wide, “Look, I lost a tooth!” I pointed to the gap in my teeth where my canine had been.

“Well, well, well, look at that. Making room for your big bad wolf teeth to come in.” He growled and snapped his teeth. I giggled and shook my head.

“My mommy says that I should have turned by now, I think I’m a dud.”

“Now I don’t think that’s true.” He set me down on my feet, “But I do know that a lost tooth means we have to celebrate.” He leaned down, “How about we go get some ice cream?” I looked around the playground, seeing my mother reading a book on a nearby bench.

“But mommy says I can’t go in a car with anybody but Uncle Noah and Aunt Claudia.”

“Your mommy knows me. Besides, we’ll only be a minute. Trust me.” He held out his hand. As a small child, there are only a few things in life that make you disobey your parents: the promise of a new toy and ice cream. I took Peter’s hand and we walked towards the diner in town.

Once at the diner, Peter sat me down in a tall booth at the bar. The man behind the counter looked us over.

“What can I get for ya?” He asked gruffly.

Peter looked down at me, “How about a hot fudge sundae with two cherries.” I squealed in my seat, swinging my legs wildly. My body couldn’t sit still at the thought of an ice cream sundae.

Soon the sundae was placed in front of me with a large spoon. I gripped the spoon tightly, awkwardly getting a large scoop and placing it in my mouth.

“Did your mommy and daddy tell you that you were a dud?” Peter asked, grabbing a cherry off the sundae by its stem.

“No, I overheard them talking with Miss Talia.”

“Did you?” He hummed.

I nodded, talking around another spoonful, “I’m not gonna turn.” I swallowed, “I would have shown signs by now.”

“Well that doesn’t mean you can’t get the bite.”

“Peter.” A deep voice made us both turn. Standing there was Chris Argent. Daddy and him had an agreement about something. It was adult stuff.

“Argent.” Peter said back.

Chris looked down at me, “Hi (Y/N).”

“Hi Mister Argent!” I grinned, a ring of ice cream around my mouth. Chris smiled, reaching onto the counter and wiping my mouth with a napkin.

“There you go. Your daddy called me to take you home.”

“I’m taking her home.” Peter said with a strained smile.

“Well, I’m already here.” Chris lifted me off the stool and took me by the hand.

Chris brought me home to my parents who were incredibly worried. Maybe Peter wasn’t someone that her parents trusted.

“After that your parents realized that Talia wasn’t going to take no for an answer when it came to training you.” Michael said, resting his arms on his legs. His feet was shaking. He was still holding something back. But I didn’t know if I could handle any more memories. My brain was already fried as it was. But how could I just stop remembering... One more memory... Then the dam would break.

I rubbed my temples, “What else aren’t you telling me?”

“(Y/N), removing the block on your memories like this isn’t safe.”

“I don’t care.” I snapped, flashing my eyes at him, “My whole life was taken from me. Now tell me!”

“Okay.” He sat up, holding his hands up in surrender, “Okay.” He lowered his arms slowly and sighed, “They put the Wolf Eclipse spell on you after the Hale house fire...” He looked up at me through his lashes, “Because you were there.”

All of my pacing and other nervous movements stopped at this revelation.

I licked my lips, “I was there?”

“The night of the fire, you were there.” That’s what broke it, the dam in my brain. I shouted as searing heat spread through my head. Leaning against the wall for support, I squeezed my eyes shut.

2006

I stormed through my house, stomping up the stairs to my room. My parents had picked me up from school instead of letting me stay after for Derek’s basketball game. I had plans with Laura and Derek to go to their house and train afterwards. But no such luck. My parents wanted me to stay home and they didn’t want me training with the Hales anymore.

“This isn’t fair!” I shouted at the top of the stairs, looking down at my parents, “Talia says I have the right to train with them just like any other werewolf can!”

“It’s too dangerous now to train with Laura and Derek, they don’t hold back.” Mom held her hands together, “Look what happened to your arm.” I looked down at my arm. There were thick bandages from Deaton that hid the wounds from Derek’s claws from the rest of the world. It had put me on the bench from lacrosse, but that’s what happened sometimes.

“It was an accident.” I said, “Derek didn’t mean to hurt me.”

“Yeah?” Dad put his hands on his hips, “Well, this’ll hurt. You’re grounded. You go to school, you go to practice, you do your homework and that’s it.”

I scoffed, “You can’t do this! I have to train so I can defend myself for when I turn-”

“You’re not going to turn, (Y/N)!” Dad shouted, his eyes were stern and dark, “You would have turned already and I refuse to continue this conversation. Go to your room. Now!” Tears burned at my eyes as I glared down at them. Letting out a little sob, I ran from the steps and into my room, slamming the door behind me. I leaned against the door, sliding down it as I cried.

They knew how insecure and odd I felt about being the last of our clan and a human. It felt like I had failed my ancestors. I wouldn’t be able to carry on our legacy. It wasn’t fair. It wasn’t fair how they treated Derek. Paige was dying and the only way to end her pain was killing her, it wasn’t his fault that this was deemed as killing an innocent person by the natural laws of lycanthropy. He was my friend, he had been through enough.

The car starting made my head perk up. I ran to the window in time to see my mom and dad pulling out of the driveway. Probably a meeting with Michael about the stupid Lunar Circle. But since they’re gone....

I opened the window, carefully jumping to the roof that covered the first floor, then using the bushes to break my fall to get to the ground. Now it was just a matter of walking to school... Or I could meet Derek and Laura at their house after the game. That was better and less likely to cause me to pass out.

I knocked on the door of the elaborate manor and waited. It was getting dark out. Hopefully, Derek’s game would end soon. Talia opened the door, a beautiful smile gracing her face.

“Well, this is certainly unexpected. But not unwelcome.”

“My parents grounded me from training.” I said, realizing I was very much going to be in trouble if they found out, “But I want to fight.”

Talia nodded, “Of course.” She ushered me inside, closing the door behind us, “I’m happy you came, I was just on my way out to see you.”

“You were?” I looked up at her as she led me through the house and into the kitchen.

“I was. I wanted to discuss your future.” She opened the fridge and grabbed a pitcher of water. She motioned to it, I nodded, she poured a glass and handed it to me.

“My future? Like... College?”

“No, my dear.” She chuckled, “While education is important, I had something else in mind.” It was around the time I noticed Cora, sitting at the kitchen table, doing her homework.

“You know that we love you, the whole family thinks of you as one of our own.” She came around the counter, “And I think you have the ability to become an amazing alpha someday. So my offer is this: I give you the bite and you join my pack. I know how you feel being the only human in your pack.” Getting the bite seemed like a no brainer. Maybe I just needed it to get my juices flowing.

“What about my parents?” I asked, setting my water down on the counter.

“They could join us too. One pack, all together.”

I wasn’t sure how my parents would react to assimilating packs. The Lunar Circle certainly wouldn’t like it.

“Could I have the day to think about it?” I said after a while.

“Of course.” She smiled, “Take as long as you-” Glass breaking cut her off and the flames caused her to back away from the kitchen window. Talia grabbed the pitcher of water from the counter and threw it on the flames. But they only spread. More and more windows breaking, more and more flames. From the next room, Peter ran in through a cloud of smoke.

“Talia, they’re setting the house on fire.” Peter said, coughing. Talia looked down at the basement. Flames spread rapidly through the house. The fire was already traveling down the stairs from above.

“Get them out.” Talia shouted, running towards the basement. Peter led both of us towards the front door and opened it. A glass bottle was thrown at us, hitting Peter in the face. His skin was ignited by the Molotov cocktail. He screamed, trying to put out the fire but it only spread on his clothes. Cora and I screamed, taking off in separate directions. As I ran I heard her scream again. I should have gone back, but I was afraid. I just ran all the way home. And when I got there, the danger hadn’t ended. My parents were out in the lawn, seeing the smoke.

“Mom! Dad!” I called, I stopped just short of them, panting heavily, “Hunters are attacking the Hale, you have to help them.” Evidently, they didn’t understand the urgency of the situation. I grabbed my mom’s hand and tugged, “Come on! They need our help!” The next thing I knew, the world went black.

When I woke up I was on my bed, candles gave the room a warm glow. I saw my mom sitting in a chair beside my bed, my dad was putting what looked like hair into a glass bottle. My hair.

“Hey... What is this?” I tried to sit up, but saw that my arms had been tied to my sides. I looked at my mom, eyes wide, “Mom?” Her lips were pressed tight together and trembling. She was crying.

“We’re sorry, sweetie. But we had no other choice.” She whispered. I looked at my dad, seeing that he had a spell book in his hands. It was an old family book dating back a few hundred years. What spell could they be-

It hit me. The Wolf Eclipse spell. They were going to take away all of my memories. Once my dad sealed the jar and said the incantation, I would lose everything. I would lose Derek. I can’t.

“No! NO!” I screamed as dad poured hot wax over the cork top of the glass bottle, “NO PLEASE! I promise I’ll never sneak out again!” Tears started pouring down my cheeks. Dad started the incantation.

“DAD! DAD DON’T DO THIS!” I looked at my mom who was avoiding looking anywhere near me, “MOM!” I could feel it, like a drain of energy. I was losing memories already, precious moments where the Hale family that were gone forever.

“NO!” I screamed, my fate sealed with the blowing out of a candle and a few words of Latin.

So, they were back, everything I forgot was back. And Michael was able to get me there. That dick. Everything still hurts though: my head, my body.

Michael stood up slowly, closing the distance between us, “Hey are you alright?” He asked before the door was kicked open. Derek stood in the doorway, huffing. He was covered in blood and looked like he wanted to shed more. His eyes flashed to red when he saw Michael in the room. He roared loudly.

Michael sighed, “Not again.” With inhuman speed, Derek pounced on Michael, his claws catching Michael’s cheek. Michael shouted. I ran over, grabbing Derek by the shoulders.

“Derek, stop!” He looked back at me, angry and confused.

“What?!”

I let out a shaky breath and cupped his hairy cheeks, “I remember.” I said softly. His werewolf features slowly morphed away, leaning the face I loved. He looked on in wonder, like seeing a meteor shower for the first time.

“You remember?” He whispered. I nodded slowly, smiling so hard my cheeks hurt. He grinned, wrapping his arms around my waist and holding me tightly. I wrapped my arms around his neck, running my fingers through his hair.

The next day was made for decisions. Michael had gone to a hotel near the airport and probably to be as far away from Derek as possible. It took a while but eventually Derek understood. That night had been... eventful to keep it PG. We both needed it honestly. The night as we slept in his bed, loud howling woke us up.

“What was that?” I said, very much awake. Derek sat up, looking towards the window.

“They’re coming.”

I parked at the high school after I saw Stiles’ Jeep parked there as I was driving towards the Stilinski’s. Derek said I needed to talk to Uncle Noah and I had to agree. Especially if I decided to go to Scotland. But I probably wouldn’t, not with the new threat of an alpha pack. He said he would meet with me tonight to talk.

Scott and Stiles were on the field, Scott in goal while Stiles was shooting pearls.

“Now, remember-- no wolf powers.” Stiles said, positioning himself.

“Got it.”

“No, I meant it! No super-fast reflexes, no super-eyesight, no hearing-- none of that crap, okay?”

“Okay. Come on!”

“You promise?”

“Would you just take the shot already?” Scott shouted. Stiles took a few steps forward, shooting the pearl. Scott caught it with ease.

“I said NO WOLF POWERS!” Stiles shouted.

“You don’t need wolf powers to know that was a bad shot.” I smiled as I walked towards them. They both looked over at me. Scott seemed a little surprised, Stiles didn’t really meet my eyes.

“Hey, what happened to you last night?” Scott asked, coming out of the goal to meet me in the field.

“Long story. But Derek filled me in. Y’all fought the kanima, you killed Gerard, Jackson is a normal werewolf. Win win.” I looked over at Stiles, then Scott, “Can you give us a minute?” Needing a few seconds to figure out what I had said, Scott nodded.

“Yeah, sure.” Scott walked over to where they left their lacrosse bags. I walked to stand in front of Stiles.

“I was just kidding, by the way. That was a great shot.” I smiled.

“You should have seen the game I played. I actually made us win.” He said with no emotion. He was pissed at me and so was I. I missed the first game he’s ever played and I should have been there.

“I know, I should have seen it.” I tinkered with my locket, snapping it open and closed again, “I’m sorry.”

“It was to protect him, wasn’t it?”

“They were going to kill him, Stiles. If I had gone, they would have taken me to get to him. And odds are I would be in a shallow grave somewhere.” He didn’t seem to care much, “Come on, would you please look at me?”

He looked up at her and sighed, “I understand. I know that you really care about him. And if things weren’t as crazy, you would be around more.”

“I’ll make it up to you, I promise.” I glanced back at Scott, “I’m heading home right now. Gonna talk with your dad. I’ll see you for dinner?”

A small smile, better than nothing, “Sounds good.” I softly punched his shoulder.

“Go to his left side.” I whispered, “Make him work for it.” I winked, walking back to the car. Now was the hard part, talking to Uncle Noah.

-------------------

Read part 22 here!

Please comment down below or message me to be added to the taglist.

And there is the ended for season 2 in the canon and the end of the second “book” of the series. Will I get back to writing my other series soon? We’ll see.

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#derek hale x reader #derek hale fic #teen wolf x reader #teen wolf fic

30 notes · View notes

mosylufanfic · 3 years

Text

Of Omens and Apple Peels

High school fluff! This idea came from a podcast about Halloween superstitions, but I don’t think this one was tied to Halloween.

Of Omens and Apple Peels

Caitlin set her tray down next to Iris. "Um," she said. "Why do you have a vegetable peeler and five apples in your lunch bag?"

"Because this school won't let me have a knife," Iris said, picking up the first apple and starting to peel it with her tongue sticking out the corner of her mouth.

Caitlin paused with her piece of cardboardy cafeteria pizza halfway to her mouth. "Did you finally crack under the weight of four AP classes? Are you planning to murder a teacher with a vegetable peeler?"

"Oh my god, no."

"Darn. I was hoping it was Mr. Wells. You should have seen him in class today. He was a complete tool."

Iris shook her head. "I can't believe how many people in this school think butter wouldn't melt in your mouth."

Caitlin shrugged and bit into her pizza. "They're not paying attention. But seriously, what is this?"

“It’s for the paper. I have to write a story on folk superstitions.”

“I thought you were going to find out why the baseball team stayed at a Marriott and the debate team stayed at a no tell motel.”

"I asked," Iris said. "But Mr. Bridges mumbled something about budgets and alumni and assigned me this."

Caitlin watched as she started peeling the first apple. "What folk superstition is this, exactly?"

"Supposedly, if a girl peeled an apple and threw the peel over her left shoulder, it would land in the shape of her future husband's initial."

"How would an apple know?"

Iris shrugged. "Magic?" She nodded at her notebook. "I have a whole list of these. Most of them are about husbands."

Caitlin read a few. "God, girls were totally fixated on romance in the old days."

"I don't think it was romance, exactly," Iris said. "I mean, think about it. Girls couldn't go to college, they couldn't do most jobs, and their male relatives controlled all their money and property. Getting married was basically the only chance a girl had at a safe and secure life. So who you'd marry was, like, a big thing."

Caitlin pondered that, chewing pizza. “When you put it like that . . . But I still don’t know how an apple is supposed to know anything.”

Iris shrugged. “Maybe it’s one of those power of suggestion things. Anyway.” She’d finished peeling the apple, keeping the peel all in one piece. It was harder than it looked. “All right, here’s the test.” She picked up the peel, double-checked her notes - yep, left shoulder - and flung it.

They both twisted around and leaned over the peel on the linoleum floor.

“Is that a . . . G?” Caitlin said doubtfully.

“I think it’s more like a B,” Iris said. “Like. Lower case.”

“Try it again.”

Iris did.

“Okay, that’s an O.”

“No,” Iris said. “You see where the peel sort of flopped back? I think that’s an A.”

“Lower case again?”

“Okay, snotty pants, you try.”

“Fine, I will.” Caitlin picked up the peel.

“Nope, you have to peel the apple.” Iris shoved the peeler and a new apple at her.

“Oh my god, this guy better be worth it,” Caitlin muttered.

They talked about classes and the upcoming Halloween dance while Caitlin struggled with peeling the apple. She broke the peel twice, but finally got a peel long enough to give her something other than an I. “Okay, here goes,” she said.

“Left shoulder!”

“Ugh! Okay.” She tossed it.

“Whoa!” said a voice. “What was that for?"

They both twisted around to see Cisco Ramon brushing the apple peel off his shirt, looking puzzled.

Caitlin went a shade of pink Iris had never seen on her before. "I'm so sorry!" she squeaked. "I didn't see you there."

"Nice to know you're not throwing garbage on me on purpose." He grinned to take the sting out of his words.

"It's not garbage, it's this - it's a silly - "

"That thing with the apple peel where it shows who you're gonna marry?"

Caitlin goggled. "You know about that?"

He shrugged. "I read." He squinted down at the peel at his feet. "You know any guys whose name starts with - huh. Is that an E?"

"Oh no," Iris said sweetly. "That's got to be a C. Caitlin doesn't believe in the lower case."

Caitlin squeaked like a rubber mouse.

Cisco arched a brow. "Strange hill to die on, but I respect it." He pointed at Caitlin's tray. "Did you really get the pizza? On purpose?"

"The other choice was mac and cheese."

He cringed. "Ugh. Rubber hoses in glue? Pizza it is." But he lingered, as if he didn't want to leave.

"Hey, you should sit with us," Iris said. "We've got room."

Caitlin squeaked again.

"I think I will," Cisco said. "Thanks for the invite. Be right back."

Caitlin swatted her. "What was that?"

"What do you mean? I should be asking that." Iris clasped her hands under her chin and fluttered her lashes. "Ohhhhh Ciiiiiisco. I'm sooo sorryyyyy!"

"Shut up! I didn't sound like that. Did I sound like that?"

Iris snickered. "You think he's cute, don't you?"

"A lot of people think he's cute," Caitlin muttered, biting into her peeled apple.

"Well, he thinks you're cute. You should find out if he has a date to the dance yet."

Caitlin blushed all the way to her hairline, but tossed her hair. "I will if you go ask a certain someone in your chem class."

It was Iris's turn to blush. "I don't know who you're talking about."

"Don't you? Miss 'oh no, that's totally a B if it's lower case! And that can't be anything but an A!'" Caitlin grinned slyly. "Like Barry Allen?"

"Shut up!" Iris squealed, throwing apple peel at her.

A lunch monitor came over and yelled at them at that point, and took away Iris's vegetable peeler. Because apparently it was a deadly weapon? Whatever. Iris already had done enough of an experiment to write about.

Obviously it was just superstition. But as she watched her friend smile and blush as she talked to Cisco Ramon, Iris had to wonder if the apple peel knew what it was doing.

FINIS

#Cisco Ramon #Caitlin Snow #killervibe #mosylufanfic lives up to her damn name #NaNo prompts #high school AU #the flash

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patton-cake · 4 years

Text

Past adventures and future experiences

Pairings: Logicality and very background Anaroceit, it's only mentioned.

Summary: The Christmas ball, a magical high school experience. At least that’s what it’s supposed to be. Patton knows that he has to ask Logan soon or else he might be too late. You know what? Forget it. There’s no way that Logan would want to be his date.

Word count: 3635

Additional information: Merry Christmas Gabi! I had the honour to be your Secret Santa this year and I really hope that you're not disappointed with that! Anyway, I love you and I hope that you'll like my gift :D @irritating-lady-knight

~The Story~

Books had always been Patton's escape from this repetitive world. Sure, there were a lot of good things in the world and he certainly wasn't complaining, but sometimes it just feels nice to be somewhere else you know? To be away from your annoying teachers, who think that 25 homework assignments due next week is completely reasonable. To be away from that one feeling you get when you think that you've finished everything, but you're not 100% sure, and to be away from himself for once.

That's why Patton started to read.

When he was younger, his mom used to take him to the library every Tuesday afternoon. They would spend hours reading together about brave princes who saved princesses ("But what if I want to save a prince instead of a princess mama?" "You can save whoever you want Mon Étoile"), they learned about the most beautiful creatures, and one day, they met one of Patton's future best friends.

Logan would teach him everything he had learned about the stars and their different constellations, the planets and their little baby moons ("They're not their children Patton.") And in return, Patton would read him his favourite stories and take him on thrilling adventures.

Unfortunately, the boys grew older and with becoming older, came more responsibilities. School wasn't much of a problem for the two friends. They both enjoy learning and Patton even made a new friend (who he immediately introduced to Logan, because the two were and always will be a package deal).

At the first sight, you would think that someone like Virgil would never become friends with someone like Patton. His dark black hair with faint purple dye, dark lether jacket decorated with punk rock pins and spiky boots have scared off a lot of people, but not Patton. Instead of running away, Patton basically adopted him.

Don't worry! He and Logan are still best friends! Patton has two hands and a lot of room in his heart, especially for someone like Logan.

"Thinking about Nerd number 1 again huh?" Patton shook his head and blinked a few times, before completely zoning back into reality. Oh right, school. Virgil laughed at Patton's 'angry' glare and pointed behind him.

"Good news Pattycake, your sweetheart is coming this way."

Patton poked his side and grumbled "He's not my sweetheart!"

With a look of disbelief, Virgil stared at his best friend and rolled his eyes. "You two are basically married already! Roman and I have a bet that you two got married years ago somewhere in France, because that's totally the type of romantic Logan would pick, but just didn't invite us to the wedding."

"If you keep bullying me then no, I won't invite you to the wedding!" Patton tried to hold back his laughter, but failed completely.

"So there is going to be a wedding??"

Before Patton could react, he heard a quiet voice calling his name.

"Salutations Patton, Virgil. I hope your day has been satisfactory so far." Logan had a slight blush on his face and was anxiously fidgeting with his tie.

"Goodmorning Lo! We saved you a seat!"

A small smile appeared on Logan's face as he sat down next to Patton.

"So mr. and mr. Nerd, did you two already hear about the nightmare that is the Christmas ball?"

Oh right. The Christmas ball. The event of the year.

The Christmas ball was this party for everyone in their last year. It was a sort of last goodbye before they graduated. Basically their school just took prom and slapped a different name on it to feel special and creative.

"Yeay! I bet that you, Janus and Roman are going together huh?" Patton winked at him and gave him a bright smile. He had been so happy for his friend when he and Roman finally got together and even happier when later Janus got added to the relationship. They were really adorable with the three of them.

"Mhm! Roman wanted to do some big promposal, but fortunately for us, Janus managed to talk him out of it. But how about you Logan? Anyone you wanna ask?"

Oh gosh Patton was going to kill Virgil. His friend knew that he wanted to ask Logan. In fact, he had tried to ask him like 5 times already, but every time he was about to pop the question, his anxiety took over and he asked some other random thing. This had lead him to asking Logan about the way ducks keep floating, their math homework and random facts about ladybugs instead. Patton truly was hopeless.

"Logan? Are you blushing? Now you gotta tell!" Virgil leaned over the table with a mischievous smile on his face.

"I did no such thing, but yes, I suppose there is someone I'd like to go with." Unfortunately for Logan, his face only turned darker red, which made Virgil laugh harder.

"Tell us more Logan!! Come on!" Virgil gently poked Logan's arm and leaned on his elbows, interrogating Logan,

"Well.. They're the most wonderful person in the world and I could not imagine my life without them, but I'm not telling you their name, not until I've asked them."

"Come on Lo! You can trust us! Right Patt? Patton? Everything okay?" His voice suddenly turned concerned when he looked at Patton, who was fidgeting with his necklace and looking at his hands, a sad smile on his face.

"Yeay, I'm fine," he grapped his backpack and stood up, "I'm gonna go to my next class, see you later guys."

In all honesty, Patton wasn't fine. He had failed to ask Logan to the prom and now he was too late. Gosh he was pathetic. He felt a few teardrops falling down his face as he walked outside. Patton desperately needed to get his mind off of everything, so he went to the place he always went when he was sad. The magic treehouse.

When they were younger, Logan and Patton had wanted to go on their own adventure. They tried to discover the hidden secrets from their library (the only thing they found was that the librarian was secretly dating ms. Williams. Patton still got shivers when he thought about that), they practised their sword fighting skills, discovered that Logan shouldn't be trusted with sharp objects and searched for hidden treasures in their backyard.

One day, after getting complaints from ms, Williams, their parents decided that they should have their own little place, somewhere where they didn't disturb other people. Logan and Patton had spent all summer building their treehouse together. Of course that meant that their parents build it and that they had decorated it with fancy fairy lights.

Patton smiled when he reached his backyard. The magic tree was located in the little private forest, behind their yard and right now, it looked absolutely magical. It had started snowing a few days ago so the whole scenery was covered in a little layer of white snow.

He carefully climbed up the ladder and entered the treehouse. Patton looked around him with a soft smile on his face, nothing had changed in their secret hideout. The shelves were covered with books, the fairy lights were still covering almost the entire ceiling and on the walls hang multiple drawings of their great adventures.

A chuckle escaped Patton as he looked through their drawings. Most of them were from when they were 9. He could barely identify the two blue stickman figures as Logan and him wearing their crowns. Logan always said that one day, he and Patton would become mighty rulers of their own library kingdom. They would have flying books and magical flowers that changed colours.

Patton's heart broke a little when he thought about that. Logan always claimed that they'd be together forever, Patton knew that they had only been children at the time, but still, he couldn't help but feel heartbroken. He'll get over it eventually, Patton would be happy for Logan and his date of course, but it still hurt.

Suddenly, his phone started to beep and he could hear the Sherlock theme song starting to play. Logan was calling him. Patton turned his phone off and sunk down to the floor. Class had started half an hour ago and here he was, crying in his childhood treehouse. How pathetic.

After a while, Patton's breathing had become steady again and he walked towards the bookshelves. A shiver spread over his body and he finally began to realise exactly how cold it was in the treehouse. Patton picked up the first book and started to read. Stories had always cheered him up a bit.

"I think that I remember that one."

Patton snapped his head towards Logan and let out a deep breath.

"Aren't you supposed to be in class?" Patton knew that he was being hypocrite but at this moment, he couldn't really care about that.

"As should you." Logan sat down next to Patton, taking in the their treehouse. "Nothing has changed here, has it? Do you remember when we were 11 and those bullies threatened me on the playground?" Logan chuckled softly and looked at their drawings, "We spend all day hiding here, drawing together."

Patton too, let out a soft laugh and looked at his hands, keeping his head low.

"Wasn't that the day we made the first drafts for our little kingdom? You know? With the weird roses and the unrealistic inhabitants?"

"Hey! Don't you dare insult Regno Libri like that!" Logan exclaimed. He tried to keep a serious face, but couldn't help but laugh. Patton giggled softly and finally looked Logan in his eyes.

"I'm sorry if I worried you Logan... I just needed some time for myself, I'll be fine."

Logan smiled soflty and took Patton's hand, gently fidgeting with his fingers.

"You're my best friend Patton, I know when something is bothering you. It's okay if you don't want to tell me, but just know that Virgil and I are here to help you okay? We care about you." He squeezed Patton's hand and moved closer so there sides were touching.

"I know Logan, thanks.." He slightly blushed at their intertwining hands and leaned onto Logan's shoulder. Physical touch had always been the best solution to cheer Patton up and especially if Logan was providing that touch. Logan would never admit it, but he secretly was a great hugger.

After a few minutes, Logan gently let go of Patton's hand and put his arm around Patton's shoulders instead, carefully pulling him closer. He gently stroked his hands through Patton's curls, softly twirling them around his fingers before speaking up again,

"Patton? There is something I'd like to ask you.." Logan smiled down at his friend with a loving gaze,

"I know that this might not be the most perfect time to ask, but do you might want to be my date to the Christmas ball? And perhaps we can try to become Promkings? Instead of rulers? Do you remember that?"

Wait

What?

Patton's thoughts zoned out and he looked at Logan with a shocked look on his face. Did.. did Logan actually asked him to prom?

"Patton? I- you don't have to, I understand if you don't see me that way, if you don't like me like that but-"

"Logan, please don't doubt yourself that much."

And with that, he kissed him. It only lasted a couple of seconds, but it was everything they needed. The kiss was sweet and gentle and it tasted a bit like vanilla, Patton couldn't get enough off it.

When Patton pulled away and looked up at Logan he giggled a bit. His (boy)friend (?) had a dazy smile on his face and his cheeks were bright red. After a few seconds, he spoke up

"I- you- is that a yes?"

Patton chuckled at the normally composed and stoic boy and kissed his cheek,

"Yes Logan, I'd love to be your date to the Christmas Ball." Patton leaned his head back onto Logan's shoulder and nuzzeld his cheek gently, taking in everything around them.

He had just kissed Logan

Patton had just kissed Logan

And it was perfect

After what felt like hours, Logan kissed Patton's forehead and carefully stood up. He reached out a hand to help Patton and linked there hands together,

"I think it's time to return, Virgil must be really worried." Patton let out a yawn and leaned into Logan's embrace,

"You're probably right."

And yeay, Logan had been right

"Where the hell were you Patton? I was so worried! Are you okay? Why did you leave and- Are.. are you two holding hands?" Virgil waved around with his arms, face full of worry. But when he saw Logan's loving gaze at Patton, something in him shifted. A soft smile appeared on his face and he smirked down at the two.

Patton looked down at their hands and blushed soflty. He loved Virgil, he really did and it was so funny to see him turn into this overprotective mother hen. Eventhough Virgil liked to act like he didn't care about other people, Patton knew how much of a softy he actually was.

"So when's the wedding?"

Logan almost choked on air.

It had only taken a few days before the entire city was covered in snow. Patton could hear the white crystals crunch under his feet as he walked through the park close to his house. Virgil and Patton had agreed to meet up a few hours before the Christmas ball was supposed to start. He checked his phone when he arrived at the old oak tree. The old oak tree had been in the park for ages, hence the nickname. Patton could remember being a little boy and trying to climb all the way to the top of the tree, even though Logan would always warn him that he could fall down and break his legs. Which he eventually did. Well, not both of his legs. Patton had only broken his left ankle, but he got a lolly from the nice nurse lady so he was fine. Giggling at the memory of Logan’s concern, Patton unlocked his phone to check the time. Five minutes until Virgil would arrive.

Just when Patton was about to send Virgil a message, letting him know that he had arrived, Patton saw something flying towards him before said thing hit the ground with a muffled sound.

“Damn that was supposed to hit you!” Patton turned around a saw a big bundle of purple coming his way. The purple blob tried hard to keep his balance on the slippery snow as it made it’s way to the tree. “Did it scare you?” It’s voice was slightly muffled by a fluffy scarf but Patton could still recognize the bright purple hair that always looked like an absolute mess.

“Oh I was terrified” Patton rolled his eyes while simultaneously trying to contain his laughter. Virgil scoffed and lightly hit Patton’s arm.

“Mission completed then I guess, but it’s not like you could have done it bette-“

Before Virgil could even finish his sentence, a cold snowball flew into his face. He quickly shook all the snow off of himself and looked at Patton who had a really sweet and innocent smile on his face

“Oh you bastard, it’s on” Virgil quietly mumbled to himself and began to collect more snow.

“What did you say Virgy? You looked like you needed a little cool down time!” and yeay it was really no ones fault besides himself when Patton too, got hit by a snowball right in his face.

A lot of snowballs later, Virgil walked up to his friend with his hands high up in the sky, slightly shivering from the cold.

“You won okay, I give up. I’m literally freezing.” Patton took this opportunity to hug Virgil around his waist and nuzzle close.

“Alright, alright we get it, you love hugs. Now come let’s get some hot chocolate or something. We deserve it after this intense battle.”

Patton nodded in Virgil’s chest and together the tried to find their balance while walking out of the park.

When the two friends walked into Patton’s house, they were met with an overwhelming smell of gingerbread and apple-pie. Which made sense because Patton’s parent had been baking Christmas treats for their family this morning.

“You mind if I grab one?” Virgil held up one of the chocolate chip cookies and ploffed down on one of the chairs in the living room. He took a bite when Patton motioned that he could eat it and let out a small noise of contentment.

“Your suit arrived last week right?” Patton nodded and Virgil continued, “Have you tried it on yet?”

Patton nodded again and smiled brightly at Virgil

“It fitted perfectly! I really hope that Lo will like it too”

He hugged himself anxiously and Virgil stood up to wrap him into a strong embrace

“Hey it’s okay Pat. Your boyfriend absolutely adores you. Believe me, if it would have taken you two any longer to get together I would have sued Logan, because he just couldn’t shut up about how handsome you looked and how he would just skip the prom because he couldn’t ask you.”

Patton giggled and blushed slightly

“And besides, if Logan does somehow decide to hurt you in any way or form, I will gladly kill him for you!” Patton lightly hit Virgil’s arm before looking up with his bright smile returned on his face.

“Thanks Virgil.”

After Patton changed into his light blue suit and Virgil had eaten more chocolate chip cookies, he also finally decided to put on his indigo purple suit with bright red and golden bracelets to match his boyfriends. Logan and Patton had agreed to wear matching ties, which meant that Patton was wearing a beautiful navy-blue necktie.

He triple checked if he had all of his stuff, including his phone, keys and if Virgil was ready, when he suddenly heard a soft knock on his door. With a mischievous smirk, Virgil walked up to the door and opened it slightly, leaning in the doorway.

"Hello Logan"

"Salutations Virgil, is something wrong?" Patton couldn't see Logan but he could identify the slight shake in his voice as anxiety.

"I don't know Logan. Tell me, are you going to dance with Patton tonight? Bring him some pretty flowers? Give him everything he deserves and more?" He could hear Logan clear his throat and Patton was sure that he was anxiously fidgeting with his necktie by now. Logan always did that when he was nervous.

"If Patton wants to dance tonight then I'll gladly join him, I did indeed bring him a flower and believe me, I will try to do anything I can to make him happy." Patton almost melted at the soft adoration in Logan's voice and he pushed Virgil out of the doorway.

"Virgil! Stop that! You're bullying the poor thing. I'm sure that Logan will be a true gentleman, as will I." Patton giggled at Virgil when he rolled his eyes and then turned back to face his boyfriend.

"Hi Logan," Patton whispered breathlessly, "you look absolutely amazing"

Logan, who looked equally as breathless, blushed slightly and whispered back with a soft voice "As do you Sunshine, as do you."

He then held his hand out and presented Patton a singular light blue and slightly bowed

"For you my love" Logan smirked up at Patton and chuckled softly.

"Move your domestic display elsewhere you nerds. This is too nauseating." Virgil smiled softly down at Patton and hugged him quickly before Logan took Patton's hand to escort him to his car.

The night sky was filled with stars when the two boys finally arrived at the oh so dreaded Christmas ball. Well, of course the ball wasn't that dreaded anymore. Patton wondered if anything could be dreadful when Logan was there by his side.

"Your mind is lost in space Sunshine, what is troubling you?" Logan intertwined their fingers and gently rubbed his thumb over Patton's hand to soothe him.

"Nothing's wrong Starlight, everything is perfect. Absolutely perfect." The honesty in Patton's voice made Logan blush and together, they entered the ballroom.

Suddenly, they were surrounded by hundreds of fake snowflake decorations. The fairy lights gave the room an enchanting atmosphere and because it was Christmas, in the corner of the room stood an eight feet tall Christmas tree, decorated with the most beautiful ornaments. It looked magical

"Well I did promised a dance didn't I?" Patton turned around to face Logan and saw that his boyfriend was holding out his hand for him.

"We don't want to disappoint Virgil now do we?" He giggled as he happily accepted Logan's invitation and followed him to the dancefloor.

The music started to play and Patton could feel Logan's hands gently wrapped around his waist. Somewhere in the back of his mind he could hear the other people entering the dancefloor, but Patton was too distracted at this moment. Blue. Beautiful dark blue. The only thing Patton noticed was how the lights reflected into Logan dark blue eyes, making him truly look magical.

"..Logan" Patton slightly cringed at the crack in his voice, but Logan didn't seem to notice

"Patton?" His boyfriend looked at him with a confused smile and a lot of admiration in his eyes.

"I love you"

"Well that's perfect Patton, do you want to know why?" Logan blushed while still keeping a smirk on his face leading them through their dance. He continued when Patton nodded,

"Because I love you too."

The two swayed the night away, living in their own private bubble. It was just the two of them and it was absolutely perfect.

#logan sanders #patton x logan #logicality #logan x patton #long post #patton sanders #virgil sanders #anaroceit #(mentioned)#pattoncake writes #Gosh I'm nervous about this one #I really hope that you like it Gabbee #This is my longest fic so far

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heyheydidjaknow · 4 years

Text

I would’ve posted this earlier but, alas, I passed out early. This is a longer one, but tumblr got its act together so I can post it all in one part. You guys know where the other chapters are, and if you don’t, they’re at the end of the chapter. Now if you’ll excuse me, I’m going to go eat straight Nutella.

Chapter 10

“I’m thinking about getting some gloves.”

He looks over at you as he laces up his skates. “Yeah?”

“Yeah,” you nod, smiling slightly to yourself as you look your hands over, trying to imagine what they would look like. “Like, badass, fingerless gloves.”

He smiles. “Dude, those would look metal as fuck.”

“Totally, right?” Your smile widens. “With studs and shit.”

He gets to his feet, hopping onto the ice. “Hell yeah.” He drops a puck to assault as you go back to your backed-up coursework the best you can—your handwriting has gone to hell, but you are working with what you have.

You flinch at the crack of his stick, the cross of the T ending up underneath the letter somehow. A cheer from Casey tells you the rubber cylinder’s fate.

‘I swear I learned this.' You squint at the basic algebra, the pencil, crudely held in your fist, hovering over the packet. ‘Why can’t I do this?’

“How’s your pile coming along?” Another crack.

“It’s comin’.” You run your fingers through your hair. “Just… trynna remember how to do ne—… subtraction.” ‘Not debate. Negating is debate.’

He laughs. Another crack. “Man, that thing really fucked you over, huh?”

“Thoroughly.” You decide against continuing to torture yourself, having been at it for the past five hours—most of it in the library before Casey invited you to watch him practice some more— and set the large stack of homework back in your bag. “Are you actually making the shots?”

“Casey Jones doesn’t miss shots.” Another crack.

“Pardon me, oh almighty king of the ice.” You stand on your good leg, grabbing the side of the wall to watch as he went back to collect his pucks.

You two have managed to bond over a mutual respect/love of heavy metal and hockey and, seeing as you are staying out of the Hamatos’ hair for a while—not upon request, but out of courtesy—you have managed to spend a lot more time with him than you may have otherwise. Your school has not assigned Biology any big projects yet, so, until you are assigned it, you do not have anything other than your health to stress about.

“Pardon accepted.” You watch his form as he performs another slap shot.

“You…” you trail off, trying to remember what you were going to say.

“What?”

You shrug. “Dunno.” You lean your head on your arms. “I’ll remember eventually.”

He drops the second puck. “Got any plans after this?”

You sigh. “Nope. Probably gonna head home and try not to cut my fingers making dinner again.”

He takes another shot. “Then let’s go out after this. You and me.”

You smile. “What, don’t have any plans either?”

“Nah.” He drops the third. “Dad doesn’t care if I’m home late anyway.”

“True, true.” You have decided against prying into his home life; it is not your place and does not concern you in the slightest. “Where do you wanna go?”

“Wanna catch a movie? Heard there was this new pizza place just a couple blocks down if you wanna try to sneak it in.”

You snicker. “In the box and all?”

“Yes.” He grins mischievously and hits this one off the walls. Some way, somehow, it still makes it into the goal. “I bet your sweatshirt is big enough to stick the box under.”

You stick your tongue out at him. “Not in the mood for burns on top of scars, Jones,” you reprimand him teasingly. “That just ain't it.”

“Then you can wear mine under that one and—”

“Your sweat-soaked hoodie you’ve been practicing in all day?” You cringe at the thought. “Over my dead body.”

“I mean…” he licks his teeth, smile widening, “it’s not exactly like you’re in the best—”

You laugh. “So not cool!”

He puts his hands up in defense, gliding over. “I mean, am I wrong, though?”

“That is completely besides the point, you ass.” You balance on your foot, crossing your arms. “Damn. Making fun of the girl with the broken leg.”

He leans against the wall. “Man, you were dying before the crash.”

You roll your eyes. “Alright, whatever, Jones.” You lean against your hand. “How’s Johanna,” you sing.

He presses his hand against your face, pushing you away. “Annie is doing fine.”

You grin, steadying yourself on the wall. “Do you feel her, Johanna?”

“I’m gonna tell her you call her that if you don’t quit it.”

“Do you think that walls can hide her? Even when you’re at her window?”

He pushed his arm all the way out. You hop back.

“Her name isn’t even Johanna.”

“But she is Johanna,” you whine in protest, not bothering to hide your mirth. “She has the hair, the voice, the disposition. She’s an ingénue and you know it.” You have been teasing him about this for a while now: the girl in question—Annabelle Halshaw, a year below you two—had caught his eye when he had heard through the grapevine that she was the lead singer in some indie band. When he had shown you a picture and told you the story, you insisted on calling her Johanna for her golden hair and soft, sweet singing voice he had proudly had you listen to.

“She’s not.”

You roll your eyes, sitting back down as you grab your bag. “Lie to yourself all you want,” you goad, “but deep down, you know in your heart that the truth,” you put a finger up, “is apparent.”

He hops off the ice, sitting next to you as he unlaces his skates. “Whatever.” He smirks. “How’s The Don?”

You avert your gaze. “I haven’t seen ‘im.”

“Boo.” He tied the laces together. “Some girlfriend you are,” he ribs.

You go red. “Not my boyfriend. Not even friends with benefits.”

“Yeah, sure.” He sets the skates into his bag. “That’s why you already know his family.”

“That—”

“And why you’ve had him over to your place.”

“If you don’t cool your tits, I’m telling Lucy you’re crushing on her friend.”

“Don’t you dare!”

“What,” you simper, “think I won’t?”

He grabs his bag. “If you do, I’ll show her that video.”

You laugh, following him out of the rink. “You’re the worst.” You note how strange it is that he spent so little time on the ice as you two walk out, but you do not say anything about it.

“Hey, you’re the one throwing threats around.”

“Yeah,” you argue, “but my threat is clearly better.”

He rolls his eyes, pushing you again.

You two keep chatting on the way to the theatre about anything and everything, from new bands to upcoming games to the newest blockbuster horror movies. You are not personally on the hockey team, but, as his friend, it is your duty to care. Besides, you figure, it gives you something to look forward to.

The movie is fine. You convince him against sneaking an entire pizza in, you split a bucket of popcorn, and you give him shit for getting freaked out by the disembowelment scene. It is payback for him teasing you about crying during the last movie you two went to a couple of days ago.

You two stand at the streetlight.

“Dude, it’s like eight,” he groans. “It’s not even late.”

“True,” you agree. “Counterpoint: I still have another week’s worth of work to do by Friday on top of the homework I’ll have to do anyway, so unless you wanna help—”

“Forget I asked.” He pulls his hood up against the autumn wind. “Need me to walk you back?”

“Nah.” You shrug. “If someone mugs me, they’ll give me an excuse to not do my homework.”

“Murdered?

“I’m already halfway there.”

He grins. “See ya tomorrow, Y/N.”

“See ya, Jones.” You wave as he runs off.

The walk home is quiet and considerably easier than it was a couple of weeks ago. Seeing as you now get queasy whenever you get into a car, you have been limited to taking the subway and walking, which, among other things, has contributed positively to your physical strength. You know that you should probably at least try to take the bus or a cab around town to build your tolerance up, but the last time you tried, you had almost tripped and fallen from how shaky your legs were getting out. Oddly enough, you note as you go through the door, you do not have a considerably larger fear of heights than you did before, or of fire, but cars were tripping you up, even though you were the one that crashed it. You feel thankful that, at least, you do not think your fear is crippling. At least, you reason, you can still get into the car.

You lock the door behind you, debating whether you feel like adding to the collection of cuts you now possess— they are self-inflicted, but not intentionally so; you stubbornly refuse to acknowledge the fact that you physically cannot use your hands to cut things. You decide against it tonight, tossing your bag on the bed as you sprawl across it, admittedly exhausted. You allow yourself a couple of seconds with your eyes closed before you pull yourself up with a groan and get back to work.

A part of you wishes that you had the physical energy to stay out longer. You are always trying to find excuses not to sleep, and although the mountain of homework and readjusting your timelines for things you missed is certainly one way to keep yourself preoccupied, it is not exactly what you would consider fun. Then again, reliving your greatest traumas while you sleep is not exactly fun either.

You catch yourself peeling at the newly applied bandages on your fingers, fingernails catching under the crudely applied adhesives. Applying bandages properly requires more dexterity and patience than you currently possess, and you are hardly going to ask someone else for help with something as stupid as that. You have lasted this long without needing too much help. People can live by themselves. You will live, probably. Well? Not your concern.

‘I should eat something.’ Your eyes strain to focus on the piece of paper in front of you, your mind wandering aimlessly as you try to impress the actual importance of finishing this upon yourself, but you find that is an insurmountable feat.

You drop your bag off the side of the bed, reaching down and pulling your shoe off, leaning back into your pillows, the weight of the day practically immobilizing you. Fumbling hands switch the lamp off, bathing your room in momentary, blissful darkness before the gravity of your decision sets in.

“Alright, me,” you breathe to yourself. “What’s it gonna be today? My folks? Bradford? What’s his face? Hell,” you chuckle, “why not all three? I’m sadistic enough, I’m sure.”

You close your eyes. “Give me your worse,” you challenge as you slip into unconsciousness.

Two weeks.

He had kept his distance for about two weeks. It was not as if he did not care or was not morbidly curious what the crash had done to you—his glances through the curtains did not tell him much-- but, after some debate, he had figured you needed time to recuperate before you would want his company. Two weeks, he figured, would be enough time for you to get back on your feet or, at least, for you to start wanting company.

His excuse to see you had come in the form of his brother’s newfound prideful boasting. Feigning insult was as good an excuse as any to go see you; after all, he just so happened to be in the neighborhood anyway, and it was normal to pop in to see someone if you were already just a couple blocks down, right? Sneaking away was easy enough—they would not mind his absence—and he, after much prep work, knew exactly how and why he was going to say the things he would to get in your good favor. The plan, he knows, would have gone swimmingly.

His plans seem asinine when he hears you crying.

His brothers do not cry much. He does not, either; it was a habit that they had all thoroughly bullied themselves out of when they were much younger and, if they still did, he knew nothing of it. His master did not encourage this, per se, but talked, then, frequently about the importance of maintaining a more stoic disposition and not allowing emotions to cripple you in battle. Practically, Donatello was satisfied with that explanation, having not properly cried for more than a year now. To hear the sound again, especially coming from you, was novel.

Novel, too, is how you are crying. The sound is less of actual sobbing and more of you being strangled, quiet gasps for air escaping your lips as you shake on the bed, curled in on yourself and clutching at your chest as if whatever pain you are experiencing is centered and can be relieved by something between your collarbones. His eyes, for the first time, trace the lines on your skin, your sleeves riding up your arms to reveal them to him, tears racing down and along the gash in your face. Everything about the scene, from the soft gasping of panic to your position to the heavy scarring, is completely foreign to him, rivaled only by one or two particularly hard nights when he and his brother were much younger.

He slides in through the window, leaning onto the bed. His fingers flick your lamp back on as he grabs your shivering shoulder tightly, shaking you awake as he mumbles words of encouragement. He is not sure if his help will be appreciated, if snapping you out of it was even what he is supposed to do in this situation, but now is not the time to think of that. You are in pain. He can offer you this kindness. “Wake up,” he pleads, not thinking of how this would look until your eyes snap open to look at him.

Immediately, the reality of the situation sets in, and he scrambles off the bed. ‘Why did I think that would be a good idea?’ Panic. ‘You just walked into her room like a fucking creep. See, now she’s going to—’

“Sorry.”

He blinks, looking up at you from his place on the floor. “Huh?”

You clear your throat, wiping the tears from your eye with your sleeve quickly as you bring your knees to your chest, voice hoarse. “Sorry,” you repeat. “That you… I’m not sure what I’m apologizing for, but I know I should be apologizing.”

He is completely dumbfounded.

Your eyes glance to the open window. “I should probably start closing and locking my window, right?” You rub the back of your neck, voice clearing the longer you talk. “It didn’t occur to me since I’m so high up, but if you guys can get in, The Foot can too, right?”

‘Why is she apologizing?’

You push the hair out of your face. ‘You need something, right? I—uh—need to stop saying ‘right’ so much.” You shake your head to clear it. “’ Sup?”

He hears himself mumble some bullshit out about being in the neighborhood.

You sigh. “Sorry.” You close your eyes. “I’m usually up later; I’ve been so tired lately.”

‘Is she serious right now?’ He is completely lost. ‘She was just crying her eyes out in her sleep and now she’s apologizing? Did I miss something?’ You are smiling now, eyes still bloodshot, as if the whole thing is a figment of his imagination, still shivering where you sit.

He rises to his feet, kneeling in front of you on the bed. “What was it about?”

You blink, seemingly confused. “Huh?”

“Your nightmare,” he clarifies. “You were crying. What was it about?”

You avert eye contact. “Nothing too crazy,” you shrug. “Just about the crash. Nothing too exciting.” If possible, he thinks the bags under your eyes are worse than the last time you saw him.

He takes your hands loosely, turning them palms up to look, for the first time, at the patchwork quilt that is now your skin. “What happened in it?” He runs his thumb along the lines, keeping his voice low; he remembers how that used to help when Mikey used to have fits when they were younger. Leonardo and Raphael were never good at that; they took better to being more violently snapped out of their moods, but, then again, they never had this kind of breakdown; theirs were always more driven by loathing, self or otherwise.

You pause, still not looking him in the face as your muscles relax. He remembers, vividly, how he had done something similar when you two had first met, how much better, health-wise, you looked. ‘How long has it been since then? Three months? A little less?’

You take a deep breath. “Just… family shit,” you mumble, eyelids drooping as you trace his frame loosely. “Fire.”

Your gaze is piercing as you finally look at him properly. He feels something catch in his throat as you bow your head.

“It’s my fault, you know.” Your voice is so soft, barely a whisper. “That they’re dead, I mean.”

The air is a suffocating blanket that smothers you both.

“I never told you, did I?” Your focus does not shift as it might have a bit ago. It is locked solely and intensely on him, taking in every detail of his expression. “How I died? How they died? Why I died?”

Hesitantly, he shakes his head. He thinks it best to just be quiet and let you talk. He does not think he has ever heard anyone speak in quite the same tones, ever looked at him quite the same way you are.

You take another breath. “I wanted to try my hand at baking.” You force your eyes to stay focused on his. “I was—still am—not good about sleep. I always slept bad, and never at the right times. I used to take pills for it, to try to get myself back on track.”

He sees where this is going.

“I thought I could still stay up as late as I was used to.” You glance to the side, stealing yourself a second before focusing back on the boy in front of you. “I sat down in my room, turned on a movie. I set a timer. I fell asleep.” You swallow, hands shaking in his. “I can’t smell well, either. I must not have smelled the burning.” Your lips curl in a bitter smile. “Sure as fuck felt it, though, when I woke up.”

He lets you finish.

You try to blink the tears out of your eyes. “They were asleep,” Your voice rises ever so slightly. “I fell asleep at two something. I woke up when they started yelling.” You purse your lips, face reddening in shame as your nostrils flair. “They were trying to get someone out of bed when the roof caved in above them. My door got blocked.”

You feel yourself smile.

“So,” you strain not to cry, “that, Donatello, is why I’m here and why I’m dead, and why I really do deserve to burn again.” You laugh. “Hell, my body count is rivaling some serial killers, so that’s… that’s certainly something.”

He lets go of your hands, face blank.

You lean forward, placing your hands on your knees. “I don’t blame you,” You wipe a wayward tear out of your eyes, trying to swallow the frog in your throat. “Fuck, man, I’d think less of me, too, if it were me.” You nod towards the window. “I get it if you want to leave, but I thought you might want to know why—”

He stops you mid-sentence, wrapping his arms around you and pulling you to him.

Your arms lay slack at your sides as you try to process what is happening.

He does not say a word.

You break.

You burry your face into him, tears welling in your eyes as you let out a strangled sob. You hold onto him tightly as you struggle to breathe, body shaking as you wrap your own arms around him the best you can. The sound roars in your ears like thunder, the deafening quiet of the apartment punctuated only by your own cries. He gently holds you there, resting his head on top of yours. Each sound you make sounds as though you are physically being choked by your guilt, and his chest feels as though it is being crushed by an invisible hand as he listens to your pain.

Neither of you knows how long you stay like that.

He considers telling you a story from a long time ago, about some training he and his brothers had back then, but thought better of it; he does not want to upset you any more than you already are, and being in good company with someone like him may not be exactly what you need right now. Granted, he does not know what you do need, but he knows listening to him talk about bashing brains would not help your sensibilities any.

Instead, he stays quiet.

You pull away after a while, wiping your face off again as you mumble out an apology.

“Don’t apologize.” He clears his throat. “It’s good to cry; it releases endorphins.”

You smile at that. “Well,” you giggle tearfully, “if it releases endorphins.”

He smiles back, face flushing. You look good, he thinks, even with your face all red. He knows that, scientifically, there is probably a reason, but he cannot think of it right now.

He stands up. “I’ll get—”

You grab his hand tightly.

He looks back at you.

“Can I ask a favor?”

He blinks. “Of course,” he agrees easily. “Anything.”

You glance off. “Promise not to take it weird?”

He feels his heart rate increase. “Y-yeah,” he nods.

He feels you pull him gently back on the bed. “Can you stay here tonight?”

His eyes widen as they flicker between the mattress and you. “What,” he clarifies breathlessly, “like sleep with you?”

You nod.

“In the same bed?”

You hesitate, nod again.

He clears his throat, face heating again. “Like, actually?”

“If it wasn’t actually, I wouldn’t ask, would I?” You grip his hand tightly. “I just really don’t want to be alone tonight.”

‘Oh.’ He mentally kicks himself. ‘She’s scared. Don’t make her uncomfortable.’

“It’s alright if you don’t—”

He is extremely quick to reassure you that he is more than happy—‘Bad choice of wording.’—to stay tonight until you fall asleep, but that he would not stay the whole night as to not worry his brothers.

You nod in agreement. “That’s fine.” You rub the back of your neck. “Not sure I would be good company when I wake up, anyway; I still have class.”

“Oh, right.” He nods in understanding, pushing himself further onto the bed. “Which side…?”

You shrug. “Which way do you face?”

“I usually lie on my stomach.”

“Then it doesn’t matter.” You slide your sweatshirt over your head after a bit of squirming around, tossing it onto the couch.

His face is now scarlet. “Okay then,” he mumbles, laying down on the side away from the window. ‘Is she going to—no, stop that.’

You look over at him, face down on the mattress. You can almost feel the heat coming off him. “Are you alright there, buddy?”

He nods.

You shrug, laying down under the blanket and curling into him, facing the window. “Mind getting the light?”

He reaches over, clicking it off.

You sigh in content, turning to face him, teetering on the edge of the mattress. “I’m not venomous,” you inform him teasingly. “I’ve said it once and I’ll say it again: of the two of us, you should not be the one who’s a nervous wreck.”

“You dunno that.” His voice is muffled by the bed.

“You’re the strong one,” you argue.

“So?” He turns his head to look at you. “I’m the guy laying in the—I’m just gonna stop that sentence.”

“It’s only bad if it isn’t consensual.” You smile reassuringly. “I invited you to lay with me, right? So, unless I make you uneasy, then we’re all good.”

He breaks eye contact. “So,” he clarifies, “you don’t mind if I move closer to you?”

You shake your head.

He hesitantly slides himself further onto the bed. “Can I move closer than this?”

“You’ve already seen me bawl my eyes out. You’re doing me a service. Move as close or as far as you want.”

He moves to press his side against you. “Is this fine?”

You nod. “Look, how about this?” You rest your arm under your head. “If you do something I’m uncomfortable with, the safe word is pina colada.”

‘We already have a safe word?’ He was not sure if he is on cloud nine or just terrified of you.

You are very confused why he looks so warm. “Do you need me to turn the AC on?”

He shakes his head. “I’m good,” he assures you tightly. Slowly, he reached an arm out and over your waist, pulling you closer. You do not seem to resist in any way, wrapping your good leg around one of his to pull him closer.

‘Conscious touching.’ He glances down at you, trying to act cool. ‘Conscious, intentional touching. She smells so nice and she feels—okay, this is not going to work if you keep being a perv.’

“Thanks,” you mumble, humming softly. “I appreciate this more than you know.”

Cloud nine. Definitely on cloud nine.

“Every time.”

You giggle.

He blinks. “What?”

“Every time,” you note, already nodding off. “Like in that book.”

‘Which one?’ “They wrote it down for a reason, right?” The longer he spends like this, the smoother he feels.

“Totally.” You smile, closing your eyes. “Just know that this goes both ways, alright? If you ever need help like this, you know who to call.”

This is new. ‘Help like this? What, like crying?’ His eyebrows furrow as he tries to understand what you mean. ‘Or he means if I ever need company in my—what did I just say?’

You pick up on his confusion. “Emotional help, I mean.” Your fingers trace the indentations in his shell absentmindedly. “I mean, I know sometimes I didn’t want to go to my family about stuff. I dunno if you have that…” you trail off, realizing that you might be unintentionally bashing his brothers. You sincerely do not want to blow this.

“I mean,” he says after a bit, “I think I get what you’re talking about.” He sighs. “You mean stuff that they’d make fun of me for, right?”

You nod.

He feels his heart melt a little. “I’ll have to take you up on that.”

You forgot how safe he makes you feel. “Goodnight, Donnie,” you mumble sleepily.

“Goodnight, Y/N.”

You pass out not long after that. If he has to estimate a general amount of time, he will clock it in at about five minutes. He does not move, however, until about thirty minutes before sunrise, too busy listening to the sound of your breathing and memorizing how exactly your body feels next to his. As he slips out of the window, early morning air waking him back up completely, he wonders if, someday, he could stay to see you wake up next to him. Not out of necessity, but just because you both wanted to stay like that for a while more.

‘I hope so. It’s a nice dream to have, anyhow.’

Table of Contents

Chapter 9

Chapter 11

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