#and it's his actual birthday too... happy leap day everyone

[genshin-impact-updates]

Happy Birthday, Bennett!

"I wish... to not be too unlucky this year? Uhh, on second thoughts, scrap that. How about... I wish my dads all the best this year!"

"I'm sure your dads wish you all the best too, Bennett."

[always-just-red]

Hey, a fluff scenario for cuddling with Rafayel? Thank you 🐡✨

This one really got away from me ahaha, whoops. There's also a moment where my fine art degree really leaps out, so look forward to that, everyone. My first time writing for Raf - thank you anon!!

Perspective

Rafayel x Reader 🎨

Summary: You've spent two hours preparing a meal for Rafayel, and he has absolutely no intention of sitting down to it.

Genre: fluff fluff FLUFF!

Warnings/Additional tags: established relationship, cuddling, kisses, lots of intimacy tbh (soft, not spicy!)

| Word count: 2k | Masterlist |

Disclaimer: Characters belong to Love and Deepspace. All work is my own, so please don't repost or plagiarise!

Thirty minutes. You and Thomas had spent thirty minutes on the phone trying to figure out where your boyfriend actually was. Half an hour of he’s not with you? and no, I thought he was with you!— back and forth, like a metronome, and it wasn’t exactly the first time, either.

You’re seasoned investigators at this point: called constantly out of retirement for one last job you swear you’re too old for, and yet you know is never going to really be the last. You’ve already got matching t-shirts printed for the tortured agent’s next birthday: ‘Special Unit: Find Rafayel.’ (He won’t find it half as funny as you do.)

Neither of you had heard from the artist since Tuesday, and— it being Friday— he was either in his studio, painting, or definitely dead. It fell within your jurisdiction to find out, so you’d driven here two hours ago, texting Thomas upon arriving:

He's alive!! 🥳🥳🥳

You’re less excited about it now.

Stood at Rafayel’s kitchen island, you lay out the last of the buffet you’ve prepared to try to entice him away from his art. It’s worked in the past: has seen him sniff the air and follow his stomach to whatever you were cooking, like a stubborn stray cat.

“C’mon, Raf,” you call out, because he’s not taking the bait. “Food’s getting cold.”

“Not hungry!”

Your fists ball around the cutlery you’re setting down on the marble; he’s not eaten for three days. You glance up at him across the open space of his home, taking a deep breath through your nose as you watch him scrawl away at his painting. Somewhere in your mind, Thomas is speaking. This is what you signed up for, remember?

Reluctantly, you cross between the rooms, folding your arms as you come up behind Rafayel. “Raf,” you insist again, “come and sit down. Please? You need to eat something.”

“I’m fiiiiiine.” His paintbrush drags viridian over the lower third of his piece.

“You’re not fine,” you huff, and he doesn’t respond. “Rafayel.”

“Rafayel?” he mimics with a chuckle. “You’re mad.”

He’s ‘Rafayel’ in only two types of circumstance: when he’s making you really, really happy, or he’s making you consider the career-leap between bodyguard and assassin. It’s an extraordinarily thin line, and he just loves walking the tightrope.

“I’m not mad, just worried. Can’t you come eat with me? Your painting isn’t going anywhere.”

“It’s not,” he agrees, smoothing out a stroke of paint, “but what about my inspiration?”

“That’ll be waiting for you, too.”

“You think?” His lips curve as he pensively pokes at them with the wooden end of his brush. “I guess you did spend a lot of time cooking, huh? And if you’re really that worried, then…” He spins around with wide eyes. An epiphany. “Feed it to me?”

You stare back, unmoved by the puppy-like expression. He looks cute, yeah, but you’re not falling for it again. This is exactly how he looked earlier, when you’d convinced him to at least accept a glass of water. You’d almost drowned him in your subsequent efforts to actually get it down his throat.

Rafayel mixes three colours on his palette as you relive the ordeal. Like the once-white of his shirt, it’s awash with vibrant greens and blues, some fresh, some days-old. He pauses when he’s done, but you can tell he’s itching to get back to the canvas. “Give me, like… half an hour?” he estimates. The number’s been plucked from thin air. “The food’s gonna be delicious, even if it’s cold. You made it!”

“Raf, I—”

“And how can I even enjoy it if I’m racing to get back here? I wanna savour it, y’know? And anyway…” he trails off, his attention drawn by something above.

“Yeah?” you prompt, glancing upwards. There’s nothing there.

His gaze snaps back. “Sorry, the ceiling was doing something weird. But yeah, anyway, it’s not like you have to— I mean, it’s not like I’m going to— wait. What were we talking about again?”

Not much surprises you these days, but your mouth is still agape. Enough is enough. “Put the paintbrush down. You’re done.”

He nonchalantly returns to the painting. “I’m really not, though.”

You narrow your eyes. Reassess. “You were right about the ceiling.”

“Yeah?” He looks up.

You snatch the paintbrush. “Ha!”

He blinks blankly at you and your eagerly-clutched trophy, unfazed by the moment of triumph. “Cute trick,” he shrugs. He runs a finger across the palette and applies the new colour to the painting with a quick sweep. “What’s next, Miss Bodyguard? You gonna cut off my ha— ow, ow, ow! Hey! Take it easy!”

You’re pinching his ear, dragging him wordlessly to the kitchen, because you're out of things to say.

“Fine. Fine!” he groans as he tries to keep up with you. You release him and he straightens, his face pink, but not as pink as his ear. “You win! Let’s just get this over with, yeah?”

You stop dead in your tracks, then turn with a look so cold he couldn’t melt it with all of his fire.

“I mean— ahaha,” he laughs nervously, rubbing his neck. “It smells amazing, cutie. You’re amazing. I can’t wait.”

…

Rafayel sits back on his stool, still staring at his painting. The mood is different from earlier. There’s no more restlessness or impatience; he isn’t in a rush. He’s humming a soft song you’re almost certain you’ve heard before, but you can’t quite place the melody. It’s pretty, though: the sort of tune one might recall from a childhood music box, or maybe even a dream.

There’s a clink as you stack two finished plates. Then another. And another.

“Don’t,” Rafayel says quietly, catching your hand before you can collect the plate nearest to him. “I’ll do it later— promise. Sit with me?”

You were never going to say no, but his hands are on your hips before you can say yes, and he’s turning you gently— pulling you up onto his lap. You smile as his arms wrap around you, keeping you from slipping, and he’s warm as you relax back against him.

“What do you think?” he asks, staring out over your shoulder.

Your gaze follows his to the painting, still waiting for him. “It’s okay.”

“Oh yeah?” You can feel him chuckle before it reaches your ears.

“Yeah,” you confirm with a smile, shifting to face him as much as you can. “Kinda pales in comparison to my favourite masterpiece. This one,” you poke two fingers to his chest. “Right… about—” they walk higher, “—here!”

You boop his nose and he immediately scoffs, his face going red. “Sheesh,” he mumbles, unable to meet your eyes. “That was lame.”

“You’re blushing.”

“Am not!”

He squirms as you laugh and try to touch his cheeks; they’re going to feel hot, and he’s a sore loser. His hands don’t manage to capture yours, so they settle for finding your hips again, swivelling you around until you’re trapped by his embrace. You’re both one misjudged move away from toppling to the floor, so you let him keep his victory. What’s left of his dignity, too.  

Your laughter rescinds like a tide, but the quiet is far from empty.

“C’mon,” Rafayel tries again. He nuzzles into the crook of your neck, nudging your head, urging you to look forward. His hair is feather-soft on your skin, and he peppers chaste kisses along the line of your jaw. “Tell me. What do you see?”  

You hum contentedly. “A painting.” You’re not thinking about it at all; your eyes are closed.

“And?”

“A plant. A sofa. Some curtains,” you recall.

“You know what I meant,” he grins against you.

You lean back with a sigh, no longer supporting your own weight, but sinking into him with trust and begrudging compliance. It’s not bad, as surrenders go. He gives you a squeeze of encouragement and your head rolls back, stopping at his shoulder. His breath is skirting over your cheek, just barely.

You open your eyes and really look at the painting.

“It’s beautiful, Raf,” you murmur. It is; it was always going to be. “Everything you do is beautiful.”

“Yeah, yeah,” he chuckles, “I know.” But he wants more. “Does it make you think of something, maybe? Anything?”

There’s no right or specific answer. This isn’t remotely your field of expertise, and you’re oceans apart sometimes, so he has to outstretch a hand. Two viewpoints. Two sides of a coin; you never should have seen each-other.

Your life is hunting monsters, and his is finding beauty in a world where they exist. It’s not what you see, it’s how you see it. Crimson to him is a sunset; to you it’s blood.  

Something in you aches as your eyes roam over his latest work. He won’t tell you what it’s meant to be, not really: that’s a private understanding between him and the canvas, his heart and every stroke of paint. Does it make you think of something? Though the marks are fixed, they’re somehow fluid. The emerald tones are marred by shadows, as though something’s lurking beneath the surface, but there are traces of white, too. Light: shimmering.

“Reflections,” you finally answer. “Scattered to anonymity by a now turbulent lake. They belonged to something else, once, but they’ve taken a new shape— a restless and ever-changing identity— and no-one knows what it is, let alone what it was.”

With a satisfied smile, you close your eyes. That ought to keep him quiet for a minute.

Sure enough, Rafayel is silent. You don’t have to see his crystalline eyes to know they’re set on the painting, soaking it in with a new perspective. His favourite perspective: yours.

You have never been strangers to each-other. Two sides of a coin are still the same coin.

With a light laugh of surprise, he plants a kiss on your shoulder. “Thanks.”

“For what?”

“For taking care of me.” He’s nuzzling into you again. “I know I can be—”

“A pain in the ass?”

He laughs louder. “I was gonna say eccentric.”

“Oh…” You draw air through your teeth. “Yeah. That’s what I meant.”

Your voice is humourless, your face plain. It lasts all of two seconds, and then the charade is falling to pieces; he’s nibbling at your ear, your neck, and it tickles mercilessly. You giggle, but you don’t try to escape. The punishment fits the crime, and who are you to deny him his justice?

You’re quickly running out of breath, so Rafayel ceases his assault, letting you get it back. “Can I look at you now?” you ask.

He clicks his tongue. “I’ll allow it.”

You shift and he lifts you a little— helping you twist around to face him. He smiles fondly as he links his hands behind you, stopping you from falling as you lean back to enjoy the view. It’s the best kind of smile: one that reaches his eyes and makes them sparkle, like the water in the painting, but infinitely more pretty.

You want to feel that smile on your lips, so you lean in and kiss him.

It’s tender and perfect and when you’re done, you snuggle closer, wrapping your arms around him and nestling like you’ll be staying there for a while. You can hear his heart, and though a part of it is in his painting, the rest is with you. Always with you.

“Shouldn’t you get back to your work?” you ask as you think of it, smiling into his shirt. He won’t— not tonight.

“Nah,” he says, running his fingers through your hair. “It can wait.”

[winchesterwild78]

The Hunter pt 2

Master List

Characters: Dean Winchester x Reader (together), Sam Winchester, Jodie Mills, Bobby Singer x Reader (Uncle/Niece)

Warnings: fluff, oral sex (female receiving), SMUT (protected sex), language, angst, hurt feelings

A/N: I’ve been working on getting some stories out and it’s driving me crazy. I’m turning this one into a series, probably short(ish), not 100% yet. This story came to me after starting Supernatural again. We all know how Dean feels about relationships, but let’s just pretend he finally gave in. 😀 

This is my own work, please do not take it or copy it without my permission. It’s based on characters from Supernatural, but doesn’t follow the timeline completely. I wrote it fast and edited it fast. Please overlook any errors. 

Minors DNI 18+

The three of you made your way back to Bobby’s house. Sam carried the food in as Dean got out of the Impala and walked over to your car. He looked it over and whistled. “Y’all did an amazing job on her sweetheart.” “Thank you. Maybe after we eat I can take you for a drive.” “Yeah, I’d like that. Look, Y/N, I really am sorry for how I acted. I’m not good at this and sometimes I say and do stupid shit.” “I get it. I’m sure it was hard hearing your dad and Bobby say those things about you. We all carry crap with us and deal with it in our own ways.” You stepped closer to him, “I can think of something you could do to make it up to me.” You smirked at him. “What’s that darlin’?” “Kiss me.”

Dean leaned you against the car and pressed his body against yours. He slowly took your head in his hands and placed his lips against yours. You could taste the whiskey he had been drinking. The kiss deepened and you moaned into his mouth. 

“Dean, I need you, I want you.” “Oh sweetheart, I want you too. We just have to be smart about it. I don’t need Bobby or my Dad chopping things off.” You giggled, “No, we definitely don’t need that. Can I come to your room or you come to my room tonight, after everyone else has gone to bed?” Dean leaned his forehead against yours, “Anything for you, birthday girl.” 

“Hey, Y/N, where are you kiddo? Food’s getting cold.” Bobby yelled from the door. “Coming, I was just showing Dean the car.” Dean kissed you again and you smiled, “Later baby. I can’t wait.” 

The two of you walked towards the house and Bobby was standing at the door. He looked at you and then at Dean and shook his head. “So Dean, how’d you like the car?” “She’s beautiful. Y’all did a great job on her, Bobby.” Bobby looked at Dean and then at you, but didn’t say anything. He just let out a little huff. 

All of you sat down to eat dinner and just chat. Bobby told you he had one last gift to give you, and thanks to John he was able to get it for you. “Now, this is something your parents had for years, they lost it on a hunt years ago when you were little. Think of it as a family heirloom. Your father bought it for your mother the day you were born. You smiled and nodded. 

Bobby handed you a small box that was wrapped. Inside the box was a heart shaped locket with a diamond in the middle. Inside was a picture of your mom holding you on one side, and your dad holding you on the other side. Tears fell from your eyes. “Oh Uncle Bobby, this is perfect! Thank you!.” You leaped up and threw your arms around him. “Well it was John and Dean who actually found it, but you’re welcome honey.” You hugged John and Dean next. “Thank you both so much. This means more to me than anything.” You placed a kiss on John’s cheek and on Dean’s. 

Bobby and John knew right then you were smitten with the oldest Winchester brother. They both looked at each other and sighed. Bobby brought out the pie with a candle in it and they all sang “Happy Birthday”. You made a wish and blew out the candle, making eye contact with Dean. You didn’t think Bobby saw it, but he did. 

After the pie was gone, the evening was drawing to a close. You were getting tired, well that’s what you let everyone believe. You thanked everyone again and told everyone good night. Before you went upstairs Bobby pulled you to the side, “Y/N, I see how you’re looking at Dean. I know I could tell you to stay away from him until I’m blue in the face, but I know you’re just as stubborn as I am. So, all I’m going to say is be careful. He’s a great guy, but he has so many walls up and I don’t want to see you get hurt.” You hugged him, “I know Uncle Bobby, Dean definitely has walls up, but we all do. The ones that you’re meant to be with are the ones strong enough to kick those walls down. You, Mom and Dad raised me to be strong, and I think I’m strong enough to kick down his walls. I love you, Uncle Bobby.” “I love you too, sweetpea, and I trust you. Go kick those walls down.” You smiled, nodded and went upstairs.

A few minutes later in your room there was a knock on your door. You opened the door to see Dean standing there in his t-shirt and gray sweatpants. “Hey sweetheart, you mind if I come in?” “Not at all.” You smiled and stepped to the side. As soon as you closed the door, Dean’s lips were on yours. You moaned into his mouth as his hands ran up your body.

You both laid on the bed as his hand continued to explore your body. Goosebumps erupted over your skin and his lips left a trail of fire any place they touched. You felt the slick pooling between your legs and an ache you knew only he could satisfy. Dean pulled his shirt over his head and off his body in one fluid pull. Your hands trailed over his toned chest and across the freckles that scattered across his sun kissed skin. “Dean, should we wait until everyone is asleep?” “Dad and Bobby went to the bar and Sammy is asleep. I’m all yours.” 

Your breath hitched. “Are you okay? We can stop if you want to.” Dean asked. “No, I’m fine, just a little nervous.” “I’ve got you baby, and if at any time you get uncomfortable, we can stop.” You nodded, “Okay, Dean.” 

Dean pulled at your shirt and removed it. Since you were ready for bed you didn’t have a bra on so your perky breasts were exposed when he removed your shirt. “Damn you’re beautiful.” You blushed as Dean’s lips trailed to your breasts. His hands cupping them as his lips peppered kisses on them, and his tongue licked your nipples. You moaned and threw your head back as he licked and sucked. 

Dean kissed down your torso to the hem of your sleep shorts. He looked up at you through his eyelashes and you nodded. He hooked his fingers in the waistband and pulled your shorts and panties down in one pull. His hands gently spread your thighs apart and he kissed up your legs. As he got to your folds he looked up waiting for permission. “Dean, please. I need to feel you. I want you to make me cum.”

Dean took his fingers and softly parted your folds, finding you already dripping wet. He licked a strip up through your folds to your clit. You sucked in air and moaned his name. Dean loved hearing you moan his name. He began to lick and suck your clit and you wiggled under him. He slowly inserted one finger into your dripping wet pussy. You moaned and arched your back. He slowly moved his finger in and out as your breathing became pants and you moaned. Dean inserted another finger and hooked both upwards causing you to moan louder. 

“Shh, we need to stay quiet sweetheart.” He grinned as he continued to pump his fingers and licking your clit. He would lick and suck as he pumped his fingers. Your hands pulled his head deeper into you and you moved your hips. You were fucking his face as he pushed you towards your release. “Dean, I’m gonna cum.” You breathed out. 

Dean lifted his head, “Cum for me baby. Cum all over my fingers.” He pumped and licked until he felt your release. He grabbed your thighs holding you as he kept licking, causing you to moan loudly and your body shake under him. By the time you were coming down from your release, your body was over sensitive. 

You had boyfriends in the past eat you out, but damn it if Dean Winchester wasn’t a gold medalist in it. You had never felt that good after that before. Dean removed his fingers and hovered over your body and kissed your lips. As he leaned over you could feel his arousal on your thigh. 

“Dean, please, I need you.” “Are you sure sweetheart, we don’t have to go any further.” “Yes, Dean. I’m sure. I want you, I need you.” Dean stood up and took off his pants and boxers. His large, hardened cock sprang free. You licked your lips and took in the sight of him. He was much larger than you had ever had, but damn were you excited. 

You felt an ache form between your legs that seemed to beg for him. “I’ll be gentle, I promise.”

You nodded and handed Dean a condom from your side table. He ripped the package with his teeth and you giggled. He pumped himself a few times and slid the condom on. Climbing back on the bed, he positioned himself between your thighs and lined himself up. 

The head of his cock was pushing inside you. You both moaned and gasped as he started to push in. You moaned. It was a little bit of pleasure and a little bit of pain. He was stretching you like you’d never been stretched before. You grabbed his biceps and dug your nails in. “You okay, sweetheart?” You nodded yes. Dean continued to push in slowly. 

“Fuck, you’re so tight. I need you to relax a little bit more sweetheart.” He leaned down and kissed you deeply. He could feel you relaxing more so he kept pushing. “Dean, please just push in, all the way.” “Are you sure?” You nodded yes, and before you could say anything else, Dean bottomed out with one thrust. You screamed in pleasure and Dean buried his face in the crook of your neck. “Sorry sweetheart, I didn’t mean to hurt you. I need a minute or I’m going to cum right now. You’re so tight.” 

You moved your hips under him and he started to move. His movements were slow. He would slowly pull out and push back in slowly. He didn’t want to hurt you and he wanted to give you time to adjust to his length and girth. When he felt your body relaxing and adjusting more to him, he started to move a little faster. 

“Oh Dean, you feel so good baby.” He kissed your lips. “You feel amazing around me, Y/N. You’re so beautiful.” With each thrust, each kiss, and each touch of his hand your heart filled with so much love for him. You knew you would do whatever it takes to keep him safe and to tear down his walls. He was yours and you were his. In that moment the only people who mattered were you and Dean. 

Dean lifted your legs onto his shoulders and the change in position caused him to hit your g-spot a little more. Sending you closer to your next release. As Dean continued to speed up you felt yourself closer to cumming again. “Dean, I’m gonna cum again.” “Oh baby, just let go, cum around my cock.” He kissed your lips and you felt your release rush through your whole body. As your walls clenched around his cock, he sped up chasing his release. He came with a grunt and spilled his seed in the condom. 

As he finished he pulled out and kissed your lips. “That was amazing, Y/N. Are you okay?” “God, yes Dean. That was incredible.” You kissed him again as he stood up grabbing a tissue and removing the condom. He threw it away in your trash can and crawled in bed beside you. 

He pulled you close to his body and wrapped you in his arms. He kissed your forehead as you laid on his chest. You listened to his heartbeat as your fingers danced over his anti-possession tattoo. “Dean, thank you. That was incredible.” “Oh sweetheart, you don’t have to thank me. That was more than incredible. I’ve never felt like I was going to cum that fast before. You are perfect.” You smiled and kissed his lips. “I could get used to this. Making love to you and then laying in your arms.” You whispered hoping you wouldn't scare him away.

“Me too, Y/N, me too.” “Dean, would you ever consider moving away from your dad and Sam? Like maybe in here with me?” Dean sat up in the bed and looked at you. Panic flooded your brain instantly. “Well, I hadn’t given it much thought, but I don’t know if Bobby would like that too much. But yeah, I’d consider it, if Bobby was okay with it.” You looked shocked, “Really? You’d be willing to move in with me?” 

Dean turned and looked at you, “Of course I would. This (he motioned between the two of you) wasn’t just a one and done thing. I want to be with you. I’ve never wanted to be with anyone ever, but with you I’d give up everything.” “Oh Dean.” Tears filled your eyes as you kissed him. 

When he pulled back his thumb wiped the tears away, “Shh don’t cry sweetheart.” “They are happy tears, Dean. I just can’t believe you’d be willing to stay with me. Of course, I could always go with you too.” Dean’s head spun around, “What?! You’d leave home for me? To go on the road with us?” “Yes, Dean. I’d give up everything for you too.” Dean kissed you again and pulled you back down with him. “Come on sweetheart, let’s get some sleep. We will figure it out tomorrow. Tonight, let’s just be here together.” You nodded in agreement and laid your head on his chest. 

You listened to Dean’s heartbeat until your eyes got too heavy and they finally closed. Dean listened to you as you fell asleep in his arms. He smiled and felt his heart warm when he heard the soft snores coming from you. He couldn’t shake the feeling he was starting to fall for you. It scared him but excited him too. He’d never felt like this about anyone. Could he really leave his dad and Sam to live with you, or could he really let you leave Bobby to go on the road with him? These questions plagued his brain until he finally drifted off to sleep holding you tight. 

Around 3 am the door to your bedroom creaked open. Bobby saw Dean’s bed was empty and knew he’d find him with you. His heart sank when he saw you laying on Dean’s chest and Dean holding you tight. He knew he couldn’t keep you two apart now. At first he was going to wake Dean up and tell him to get the hell out of your bed, but he saw you smiling in your sleep and heard you sigh softly. He saw how Dean’s grip on you tightened when you sighed. He knew, of course he knew. Both of you were falling in love. “Balls!” Bobby said before he closed your door softly. 

He walked downstairs and told John “We’ve got a problem.” “Dean’s with her, isn’t he?” Bobby shook his head yes, “And the problem is they are already falling for each other.” “Damnit Dean! I told that boy to keep it in his pants. Bobby if I would have known this was going to happen I would have told Dean to stay away.” “Hey, John, it's nobody’s fault. They are young and are going to do whatever they want. We just need to figure out where to go from here.” “We will talk to them in the morning. I’m beat. Night John.” “Night Bobby.” 

The next morning you woke up late. It was about 10 am and you felt strong arms wrapped around you. Dean was sleeping next to you, holding you in his arms. You smiled and snuggled closer to him. He started to wake up and pulled you tighter. “Where do you think you’re going, sweetheart?” “Well, I need to pee, so hopefully the bathroom.” You giggled. “Fine, but come back, please.” You leaned over, kissed him, “I will.”

You grabbed some clothes and threw them on and headed to the bathroom. You walked back towards your bedroom. When you got to your door you saw Dean stretched out on your bed with the blanket draped over his hips. His toned chest exposed to the chill of the room. You bit your lip.

“Like what you see sweetheart?” Dean grinned with his eyes still closed. You closed the door and climbed on the bed, “You know I do.” You placed a soft kiss on his lips. He pulled you down into his arms, eliciting a giggle from your lips. “Dean, we really should get up. Do you want to be the one to explain to Bobby and your Dad why you’re naked in my bed?” “If they don’t know why I’m naked in a beautiful woman’s bed by their age, I don’t know what to tell them.” He smirked. “Dean Winchester! You know what I meant.” 

He laughed and pulled you closer, “Yeah I know, I’m just not ready to leave your side yet.” You sighed and laid your head on his chest. “I know, me either, but if we don’t get up soon they will come up here.” Dean grumbled and you giggled.

There was a knock on your door and you froze. “Hello?” “Hey, sweetpea, you and Dean get dressed and come downstairs, we need to talk.” You looked at Dean with wide eyes and he smirked. “Okay, be down soon.” “Shit! Dean, how did they know?” Dean chuckled, “Guess there’s no need to keep it a secret, huh?” “Dean, it's not funny. Bobby sounded pissed.” “It kinda is, sweetheart.” You playfully slapped his chest, “Dean, you’re terrible, now get up and get dressed.” 

A few minutes later the two of you walked downstairs hand in hand and were met with tense jaws and even tenser stares from Bobby and John. You squeezed Dean’s hand and he pulled you closer to him, “I’ve got you, sweetheart.” 

Bobby stood up and got in Dean’s face. “I thought I told you to stay the fuck away from her, Dean!” You jumped at the sound of his voice. You’d never heard him that angry before. You stepped forward a bit, “Bobby, I’m an adult, I can be with whoever I want.” You seemed so small beside the three towering men. Most people would be intimidated, but you held your own. 

“Sweet pea, it’s not a matter of being an adult, I just don’t want to see you hurt.” “Bobby, I love you, but you can’t protect me for the rest of my life. You’ve always told me what good hunters and men the Winchesters were, now you’re telling me Dean isn’t. So which is it? Is he good or not?” Bobby looked between you and Dean and knew he was fighting a losing battle. Before he could say anything else John stepped up and punched Dean in the face. You gasped and when Dean turned his face back he was bleeding, but didn’t react. Bobby had grabbed John and pulled him back. Dean’s jaw clenched and he looked over at you and saw tears in your eyes. He let go of your hand and stormed out of the house. You looked at Bobby and then over at John. “I can’t believe you two. Dean is an amazing person. He practically raised Sammy because you, John, were too caught up in your own grief and need for revenge to be anything that resembled a good father. He had to be mom and dad to Sam. You owe him so much because he raised himself and his brother FOR YOU! Uncle Bobby, I know you mean well, but I’m an adult. You didn’t have a problem with Alex, and he tried to force me into his car. Dean never once forced anything. I pursued him. Even last night before we had sex he kept asking if I was sure. Now that is the kind of man I want to be with. Sure he’s had a past, but which one of you can say you haven’t. Now if you will excuse me, I’m going to find Dean and check on him.” 

Before they could say anything else you walked away and found Dean standing on the porch. When he saw you he pulled you into a searing kiss. He heard you defend him. He pulled away and looked at you, he cupped your face, “Thank you. Nobody has ever defended me like that. Thank you, sweetheart.” He kissed you again.

“I meant every word of it. I don’t know what this means for us as far as where we are headed to live, but I’ll follow you wherever you go, Dean Winchester.” “Good, because I’m not going to let you go, ever.” He kissed you again and could feel so much love between you two. 

Later that afternoon, you and Dean had decided to go off together. Just the two of you, hunting and living together. He couldn’t bear the thought of being with John after what happened, and he knew Bobby needed space. You were in your room packing a bag when Bobby came to the door, “Sweet pea, you don’t have to leave. We can figure this out.” Bobby’s eyes were pleading with you and it broke your heart. “Uncle Bobby, I’m not leaving for good, Dean and I just want to be together, work on our relationship without having to deal with everyone else’s opinions. I love you and you will always be home. I promise.” You hugged Bobby tightly. He kissed the top of your head.

Dean came to your room to grab your stuff. Bobby turned towards him, “Dean, I’m sorry. I shouldn’t have said what I said. There is no excuse for it. She’s like a daughter to me and it’s my job to protect her. Well, it was. Now it’s your job. I know you’ll protect her no matter what. Keep her safe, bring her home every once in a while, and take care of yourself too. Your father was out of line hitting you like that. I’m sorry son.” He pulled Dean in for a hug. You had tears in your eyes looking at them hugging. 

“Well sweet pea, where are y’all headed?” “Not sure yet, maybe East. I’ll call you whenever we stop and let you know. I love you, Uncle Bobby.” “I love you too, sweet pea. You make him take care of you.” “I will, and he will. I know he will.” You hugged him again and handed Dean your bags.

The three of you walked downstairs and Dean headed out to your car to put the bags in it. Sam was standing there, “Dean, take me with you two. I can’t be with Dad. We’ll kill each other. You know that.” Dean sighed, “Yeah Sammy, I know. Sammy, I want you to apply to school. Get out of this life, go be a lawyer or whatever you want to be. I know you can do it. Meet a girl, get married, have kids. Be normal.” Dean pulled Sam into a hug, “I love you baby brother. Stay with Bobby until you get into that school.” “I love you too, Dean.” 

You stood in the living room and hugged Bobby one last time. John was standing leaned against the doorframe not saying anything. He was just staring. Dean walked in and walked over to Bobby and pulled him in for a hug. “Bobby, I need you to let Sammy stay here and make sure he applies for college. He’s too smart to stay in this life. He deserves a normal life.” Bobby shook his head in agreement. Dean thanked him and started to walk away.

As the two of you approached the door John stepped forward, “Dean, Y/N, wait.” You both stopped and turned around looking at him. “Look, I’m sorry Dean. I shouldn’t have hit you. I was out of line.” Before Dean could say anything you stepped in between them, “John, you were definitely out of line hitting him. I hope you take some time and reflect on yourself about the kind of father, man you want to be. I know Dean loves you, but it’s my job now to protect him and if that means protecting him from you I will. I’m in love with your son, and will spend the rest of my life proving to him what an amazing man he is. A lesser man would have laid your ass out after punching him, but not Dean. You see, that’s the kind of man he is. He knows when to fight and when not to. Hopefully that’s a lesson you learn too. Goodbye John, I wish you nothing but the best.”

You looked up at Dean who was still trying to process you saying you loved him. Smiling softly at him, you kissed his lips, “I’ll be outside.” You knew he needed closure so you left to give him his space to find it. 

Dean stepped towards John, “Dad I forgive you. I just can’t be with you right now. Maybe later down the road the three of us can hunt together, but right now I need to be with her and have space from you. I hope you understand.” He hugged his father and started to walk away. “Dean, for what it’s worth I know you’re a better man than I am. You take care of that little firecracker. She loves you and I can tell you love her. Be safe, and always know I will answer when you call.” Dean nodded and headed outside. 

The two of you climbed into your car and Dean started her up. He took your hand, you looked out your window, waved at Sam and Bobby and Dean drove away. You two had no idea where you were going, but you knew you would be fine as long as you had Dean by your side. 

Part 3

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[silentwillowwhisperer]

Yayyy!

Guys, I completely forgot that yesterday was @lilcatastrophe's birthday!

You are absolutely amazing!!!! Imma make myself write something in your honor, thank you so much for being so kind and encouraging!

Have I written a birthday themed thingy yet?

(My brainstorming process is saying, 'What's a stupid thing we can do to Keith' until I have an idea.)

I love the word extravagant. Flamboyant is fun too. It sounds like flamingo.

-------------------------------

Lance is distraught.

He had been planning to throw Keith a surprise birthday party in honor of their unexpected friendship. He'll never say it aloud, but Keith might actually become a closer friend to Lance than Hunk.

It's hard to say when that started.

Maybe it was late at night in the kitchen when nightmares kept them both up, and they talked for hours just to avoid sleep.

Or it could be seeing Keith laughing on some distant planet somewhere in space, after they had pulled a prank on Shiro out of boredom. (They may have switched his shampoo out for hair dye. Shiro is still quite intimidating with a neon-pink hair floof.)

There's a million tiny moments with Keith that Lance could list, but regardless, he wants to show his appreciation towards Keith in some (extravagant) way.

However, the red paladin had pulled him aside just a couple days before to request that Lance wouldn't do anything big for him.

So now Lance is having a crisis.

Shiro is no help, he apparently finds the whole situation funny, chuckling lightly anytime Lance paces past him.

Keith’s birthday comes too soon. And all Lance has to show for it is a badly wrapped knife, some alien bananas that taste like strawberries, and a cupcake that he made under the careful guidance of Hunk.

They didn’t celebrate, Shiro respects The fact that Keith hates attention, and everyone else kind of just forgot.

Lance taps his knuckles softly to Keith’s door, and there’s a muffled clamor from inside the room before Keith comes out.

Keith scans the tanned boy in front of him wearily before asking with a raised brow, “Can I help you?”

For some reason, Lance clams up and just shoved the gifts into Keith’s face.

At some point, they’ve both ended up in Keith’s room atop his bed.

Keith’s eyes widen when he sees the gifts, and for a moment Lance is ashamed. He feels pretty shabby giving Keith such generic gifts, but his spiraling thoughts are cut off by the other paladin leaping into his arms.

“Thank you. You… I didn’t know I needed this until you gave it to me.”

For a second, Lance thinks Keith is talking about the knife, but then he notices sincere amethyst eyes trained on him.

“You always know what I need, even before I do.”

The warmth that fills Lance is like summer rain and sunsets over the glittering ocean, but more importantly, it’s being here with Keith in his arms.

He stands suddenly and grabs the cupcake before carrying Keith all the way to the observatory, ignoring any protests.

Lance loves this room becomes of its lack of walls. The whole ceiling is made of a glass dome, and the only actual wall is the one with the door.

It’s almost scary, and Lance feels almost lost surrounded by the cosmos like this.

He turns to Keith and hold the small cake up.

“Happy birthday, Love. You deserve every one of these stars and so much more.”

Keith dismisses the random pet name and curls up at Lance’s side.

“Nah. This is all I need.”

They split the cake and stare up at the stars (and Lance graciously ignores the fat, happy tears rolling down Keith’s face).

And you know what? Like this, Lance really does feel like he has absolutely everything.

———————-

You’re the greatest, Kay! Once again, have the happiest happy birthday!

[your-divine-ribs]

Pancake Day (Dad Van)

Just some silly little Dad Van headcanons for Pancake Day 💗

Dad Van Masterlist Main Masterlist

🥞 As soon as you push through the front door after work you're met with the acrid smell of burning.

🥞 You rush to the kitchen, your anxiety increasing as you see smoke drifting out of the doorway.

🥞 "What the hell's going on?" You cry, diving into the kitchen to find Van wafting the smoky air with a tea towel, looking a little frazzled.

🥞 "Alright love, you're home early ain't ya? We wanted to surprise ya!"

🥞 "Well I'm definitely surprised," you groan, taking in the messy kitchen countertops covered with flour and egg-shells.

🥞 Baby Leo's sitting in his highchair, face smeared in chocolate whilst he eats Nutella by the spoonful directly out of the jar and you quickly snatch it away, shaking your head.

🥞 Grace is standing there with a huge gap-toothed smile, not looking in the slightest bit perturbed about the mess whilst Van cracks a sheepish grin. He knows the pride you take in your usually spotless kitchen.

🥞 "Happy Pancake Day!" Grace giggles. "Did you forget what day it was Mummy?"

🥞 "Yes I did, but it looks like you guys have everything under control!" You can't help but laugh despite the mess. Everyone looks happy and you love the fact that Van gets the kids involved in everything that he does, even if it creates chaos.

🥞 "Daddy says I'm in charge!" She announces proudly, twirling around to show off the pink apron she's wearing emblazoned with 'Queen of the Kitchen'... the one Van bought you for your birthday. It drowns her, trailing on the floor.

🥞 "Aww sweetheart that looks amazing," you chuckle, a mischievous idea forming in your brain as you look across at Van. You're certainly not going to miss a stellar opportunity to wind your husband up. "It's a little big on you though. Don't you think it'd look much better on your dad? And pink's his colour after all..."

🥞 Van's eyes narrow at you with a kind of 'don't you dare' warning, but it's too late, Grace is already undoing the apron ties and holding the garment out to Van. "Yeah Daddy you'd look so pretty in pink... like a Princess!"

🥞 "It would suit Mummy much better though don't you think kids?"

🥞 "Da-da! Da-da! Da-da!" Baby Leo babbles. It was his first word and Van was delighted when he first said it but he doesn't look quite so happy now.

🥞 "Looks like it's unanimous!" You grin, sniggering as Van puts on the frilly apron, defeated, laughing with muttered threats about how he's going to get you back later.

🥞 Since Van is the newly appointed Queen (or Princess) of the Kitchen, you let him carry on with the pancake-making whilst you relax with a cup of tea.

🥞 You try your hardest not to wince too much at the clattering and poorly censored cursing emanating from the kitchen, and eventually you hear a cry of "They're ready!"

🥞 Van has managed to get flour everywhere, even somehow in his hair, but he seems to have mastered the art of pancake making... there's a huge stack on a plate on the counter.

🥞 You're ready to tuck in but Van's keen to show off his skills whilst he has an audience. "Watch this kids... watch the master at work!"

🥞 Before you can protest he's moving into the centre of the kitchen, frying pan in hand whilst the kids clap and cheer. You resist the urge to cover your eyes, reasoning that pancake batter won't be too hard to clear up afterwards.

🥞 He flips the pancake up with a little too much force and it leaps straight out of the pan at lightening speed, managing to get wrapped around the light fitting.

🥞 "Ahh crap... let me try that again! I perfected it earlier... you'll see!"

🥞 The second and third attempts splat on to the floor and your dog hungrily gobbles up the mess. The kids are in stitches, with cries of "More Daddy, more!"

🥞 "I'd better not or your mum's gonna kill me!"

🥞 Surprisingly the pancakes are actually delicious, and Van looks mightily pleased with himself when you manage to eat five and then ask for one more even though you feel ready to pop.

🥞 "Mummy you should have extra syrup on that one, it's really yummy!" Grace tells you, offering you the bottle.

🥞 But Van has other ideas, snatching it away out of your hands with a cheeky grin. "I don't think you need all that love, you're sweet enough aren't ya?"

🥞 "I don't know... am I?" You ask with a smirk, leaning over to him, your lips meeting in a sticky, syrupy kiss.

🥞 "Mmm... delicious," he grins at you.

[silent-raven13]

Present for the Birthday Boy!

"Come on, mates. This being one of the best birthdays I ever had. I wouldn't say it being the best of the BEST. I have to be completely gobsmacked." Hobie sats down on table after he finished dancing with his friends and boyfriend.

The Spider-Band created a surprised party for Hobie's twenty fourth birthday, it was a big deal since Hobie mentions his birthdays were never celebrated. It was always something small or the days weren't on their free day. Sometimes his closest friends Karl or Rhi-rhi would make a big party after weeks to celebrate.

So this time, Miles wanted to give him the best birthday party ever! Being twenty four is a big thing, Hobie is an adult and grew to one of the best Spider-mens around. The latest he can do is give something his boyfriend enjoys, so he had Gwen and Pavtri to help him Set a big party in an abandon warehouse in Hobie's world with the help of Karl and Rhi-Rhi- plus some close punkers.

Then, some of the main four Spider Band had their other friends helps like Peni, Margo, Slick, Sun Spider and so on. The only thing is they weren't sure how Hobie would feel about inviting adults like Jess, Peter, and Miguel... so they kept it professional tricking Hobie thinking a surprise party at HQ was his party.

The small party was a week before Hobie's actual birthday, and there was a small cake made by Margo. Gwen helped made some organic green cupcakes. Then, Pavtri made his family homemade Chai lattes, so all the adults get to enjoy the small party. It was mostly professional to keep away the adults from knowing the other party.

Miles knew his boyfriend wouldn't suspect nothing after that small party before his birthday. Not to mention, Hobie's birthday is on February and on a leap year at that. So this is a very big deal that his boyfriend's birthday is celebrate right on the 29th!

And boy, did Hobart didn't expected the surprised party on the day of his birthday. He was completely shock about it all. At first, he thought his darling Sunflower wanted to check out the abandon warehouse for fun after they got dressed up for the movies. Hobie really wanted to see Halloween, but the idea of watching a romantic film to make out was tempting. He should've known the moment his Sunflower disappear into the dark warehouse, chills run down his spine when he didn't hear Miles' response.

Then, as he steps into the warehouse a loud "SURPRISE!" Shook his to the core, when he saw firecrackers, lights and wicked decorated warehouse to a punker aesthetic for the birthday party. Miles giggles going up to his man to kiss him on the lips and hand him a bouquet of flowers to say, 'Happy Birthday, bae. Hope you like this.'

Hobie indeed can say he did love it, the more he hears it was his Miles' plan, the more he loves it. Oh, how his darling Sunflower is too good for him!

The party was MAD, it's the best blimey party Hobie ever had. There was music, everyone he cared for and dear. Hell, his siblings came by to celebrate, all his mates/punker allies were there to go crazy. There was beer, food, and many different indie bands from rock to soul to a whole mix of metal and punk. Then some people went up to sing karaoke or dance their heart out. Heck even young drag queens and other subcultured groups that were deemed by society. Some iconic Drag Queen performs and some did a stand up. It's the best party of the year some claimed.

Here is Hobie Brown sitting on a hand made Birthday boy Throne with a fake hand crafted crown on stage. One Drag Queen did a roast, then Karl hold his beer out to give his speech about being his best friend. Hobie couldn't help but chuckles at every joke the Drag Queen did or almost shedding a tear from his best mate's speech. Yet, his eyes were on his Miles. Wasn't he gonna give his own speech?

Surely he has to, because Gwen and everyone else did. Miles only sat by the table clapping and cheering on. Heck, Hobie's older sister made a small speech about him and they had their tiffs!

So here Hobie chug a Keg of beer while sloppily going to the table were his friends sat. Miles whispers low to Gwen's ear before getting up from his seat, "Hey, bae. I'm going to the bathroom, okay? Mwah, keep having fun." He kisses his punker boyfriend's lips.

"Wait, one more, luv." Hobie purrs with his lips locking against his partner's soft cherry flavor lips, "Mmm." He wishes his Sunflower made a speech then it would've been perfect.

Gwen and Pavtri were making, "OOOOHHHH, get it Miles! Get it Hobie!" They were drinking feeling more hyper than normal.

Hobie's hand rest on his boyfriend's waist before pulling away with a smirk, "Mmm."

"Hehehe, easy bae. Hold it out till the cake comes." Miles commented before leaving with his hand slipping away from his punker's hands. The young man wore a simple blouse top with dressing pants and nice Jordans. His hair still styled in short dreadlocks with gold cuffs.

Very different with Hobie having his hair stylized thick Jumbo dreads with added accessories like gold cuffs or beads. Then he had on a more spiked black leather jacket, shredded black skinny jeans with paint and added patches, and his thick heavy boots. All complete with accessories of two belts, chains, sloppy hand painted works and patches. Also he wore some rings and different types of bracelets, and three different types of necklaces.

"So, is this the best party you ever had?" Gwen finally asked the birthday boy as the loud band plays on stage everyone around them dancing and having fun.

And here they are, Hobie took a sip of his beer. Pavtri said, "Oh this isn't the best birthday? Why? This is totally top 1!"

"At least your top three." Gwen commented.

Hobie said, "I have my reasons."

"Well, maybe you'll change your mind when the cake comes." Gwen said.

"Why?" Hobie asked, then the whole lights in the warehouse shut off. Then a main light aim on stage giving a spotlight to a Rhi-rhi dressed as a Drag King, "Okay. Okay, I know you mutherfuckers want to keep drinking and partying, but it's time for the BIRTHDAY BOY TO CUT THE CAKE!"

"WHOO!" The whole crowd cheers out loud when the spotlight landed on Hobie.

"Huh? Wait, what about-" Pavtri and Gwen got him up while Karl pushes him up. Wait, what about his Sunflower? Surely, they wouldn't make him miss it.

"Come on, man! Sit here!" Karl made his best friend sit in front of the stage. "Rick, where is his crown?"

"Right here, bae!" Rick came in to place a crown on Hobie's head, "Hahaha, you're in for a surprised, man."

"Huh?" Hobie could only say that why Rhi-Rhi made a few dirty jokes here and there. The crowd laughs and cheers, until she did a stand up. All Hobie could think of, "Where is Miles?"

"Now, I would sing Happy Birthday, Hobie, but I ain't no fucking Marlyn Monroe so we got our buddy Rick rocking it." Rhi-Rhi shouted out loud as a small band plays a twisted version of Happy Birthday.

Then on stage there's a handmade large cake, it was being pushed by Gwen and Pavtri. Hobie sat being confused, "Is that real? Blimey it's huge!"

Rhi-Rhi smirking widely, "Happy Birthday Boy!"

Gwen rushes over to the DJ as she put on a song. They brought in futuristic music so they play variety. Hobie saw Pavtri and Rhi-Rhi quickly getting down from the stage once the cake stood in the middle of the stage. The punker's eyes arched as the cake shakes back and forth. "What is this?"

The large cardboard cake open up revealing Miles coming out wearing a sexy tight black leather front sleeveless body suit with a large v-neck with a large metal zipper dangling. His bare neat chest gave an illusion of cleavage, and he had long black gloves with thigh high boots, very thin six inch heels. Miles wore a black leather mini skirt. Makeup dramatic with a bold eyeliner, cheeks with glitter, and lips painted black lipliner and brown lipstick with a gloss over. His hair remained in his short dreads, but he added earrings.

Hobie's face fell, mouth dropped wide open making a huge 'O' shape. His eyes never been so wide by his Sunflower's appearance. His friends spotted his reaction having to laugh out loud.

"OMG, look at his face. He's shookth!" Gwen laughs along with Margo.

Pavtri and Karl cracking up. "YOUR FACE!"

Hobie didn't hear them by the crowd hyping up the dancer, which is his boyfriend and being so awestruck by him.

Miles began lip syncing as he began to dance sexually on stage, "It's okay, I know you want me," His body sway to the music, he did a slow cartwheel to split as he went toward Hobie's direction.

"Don't be afraid, love my body" Miles crawls on the stage being like a sexy feline with his intense stare. The young dancer stood on his knees as he did a hair flip while his hands rubs his waist to his chest and giving a little shimmy of chest toward his face.

Hobie watches his Sunflower leaving him speechless as he saw him lay on the floor then did a heel clack against the stage. "Up on display, at the party" The roaring at the show.

"I know you want me," Miles did a knee twist having to lay on the floor, "I know you want me"

Gwen grinning from ear to ear having to nudge Pavtri as they watch Hobie completely Pink, so pink and red that there was so many fonts popping up. Fonts like, "!?" Or "XXX" or "GOTDAMN!" The two were cracking up while they cheer on Miles.

The young man did a lot of erotic floor work, "I'm a god damn prize Kissing and victory in my eyes." Miles did another split with his ass bouncing on the beat and did another hair flip.

"I'm first in line," Hobie watches as his Sunflower finally got to him having to do a lap dance, his Sunflower smelled so amazing like tropical breeze. The punker turned mad bashful when his boyfriend flirtatiously lift his chin up as he lip sync, "Baby, better think twice 'cause the crown is mine.."

Miles smirks seeing his boyfriend leaning forward wanting to kiss him, but playfully shove him back against his seat, he turns away to slowly grind against his rear against his punker, "I'm a cut throat queen."

"I make the rules, I do as I please," The Black Latino head back the stage leaving his boyfriend flabbergasted, that he gave a wink. When Hobie wanted to lean close to him, Miles' boot gently shove him back again being a sexy minx. "Got you on your knees!"

"WhOOO, GO MILES!" Margo squeals!

Peni and Spider Zero laughs, "Heck yeah!"

"Oh my gawd, I never knew he can dance like that." Pavtri being surprised.

Miles smiles standing on stage. Time for the big reveal, "I'm a full course feast," He turns away from the crowd as he sway his hips side to side. "I'm a masterpiece! Uh!" He remove his mini skirt to reveal his other part of his body suit, which is the thong part with his plump ass cheeks hanging out.

"WHOOO! OH YEAH, BABY!" The crowd shouted.

Hobie's had no words, his whole body froze, palms sweaty, his lower groin aching, with his mouth being super dry. His heart beating so fast as he watches his confident boyfriend dancing on stage for him. So beautiful, so perfect, Hobie wanted to ravished him but he had to control himself.

The only time Miles allow him to touch him is when he did a close split at the edge of the stage so his punker can grab a fistful of his right asscheek. Honey brown eyes caught dark lustful eyes wanting him. Hobie seems he didn't want to let go of his rear, and this made him go to him to finish the lip sync. "I know you want me"

Hobie had his Sunflower on his lap again, this time he can smell the leather black gloves. Miles hugs his boyfriend with his arms around his punker's neck, "Happy Birthday, bae. Did you like my surprised?" He finally asked.

There was no words said from the punker. Instead he dipped Miles into a deepen kiss. Without another word, Hobie got up with Miles in his arms and he went off making the crowd laughing out loud. The party continued on as they all expected that little dance had the punker hot and bother.

"Hobie, what about your cake?" Miles pouted.

Hobie purrs lowly in his partner's eye, "You're my cake." This made Miles' face so warm. It wasn't long till Hobie took him back to his house boat and had their heated fun.

That being said, Hobie can say this birthday party is on his top three. Especially his darling looking too damn fine in tight leather bodysuits. Miles can say he is happy he got his boyfriend the best gift.

[snailsandpuppy-dogtails]

What is Tea but Love in A Cup? Hope. 

Pretty sure it's midnight now...Happy birthday, @darcyfangirlsfrequently ! Here is your present. Fluffy angsty not smutty Garvez. wc: 2,623 ao3

Every day Luke brings Penelope tea. It’s something he started doing regularly since her return...something he started doing since that day.

Privately, it’s the best part of his day, those few minutes they spend just the two of them.  

Sometimes it’s in a thermos from home like that first time, sometimes it’s in one of her favorite mugs from the collection that’s slowly been accumulating in the cupboards again and made in-office, but regardless of where it steeps, by 10:30am he always makes sure there’s hot tea in her hands. 

These past few years of remoteness and restriction, forced solitude, had worked slowly to expose deep in himself what he valued, what he needed, and what he wasn’t willing to give up so easily on any longer, so no matter what he’s doing, by 10:20 Luke excuses himself and makes his way to her. 

She didn’t like to work in her cave anymore he’d noticed. She worked in there as little as possible these days, preferring the bright natural lighting of one of the spare offices near Rossi and Prentiss to the dark, isolated space that was her high-tech hollow. He wasn’t sure what it was; if the place held too many lifetimes she’d shed when she left, or if it was haunted by memories she’d rather not be reminded of, if she just missed everyone and wanted to be closer, or if she felt more safe, secure, tucked between two agents. Maybe it was all of those things, maybe it was none of them. Maybe she just didn’t like the space anymore (despite the cleansing), but whatever it had been she didn’t feel the need to elaborate, and no one asked.

Carrying “Nancy” a large porcelain mug in the shape of a magenta unicorn leaping out of a curling white cloud (tail making up the handle, naturally), Luke climbed the stairs to the catwalk across the office. Giving a brief knock he sang out her name in greeting, “Pen-nell-O-pea” and peered into the room only to find it empty of both Penelope, and any sign she’d been there. 

Perplexed, he backed out. He knew she was here today, he remembered the new shoes she was wearing vividly, exceptionally short dress paired with the especially steep arch adding that much more draw and definition to her already arrestingly shapely spade calves…not that he was looking at her legs.

They were the oddest translucent cranberry platform heels he’d ever seen. Constructed entirely of plastic cut-out hearts, they looked like gummy candy, but they obviously had to of been made from something more substantial...even if they did appear to be particularly tempting and sexy edible playthings rather than actual footwear. They were also hands down the most garish shoes he’d ever seen, and having grown up in 70s-90s Brooklyn, that was saying a lot. But they completed her outfit; big red felt heart earrings, sky blue a-line mini dress with sprinkles of large cupids and arrows all over it, those shoes, and a matching ruby cardigan delicately keeping her within dress code. Delicately keeping her on the verge of his mind.  

Luke decided if she wasn’t here, he’d track her down.

His skill as a hunter was sorely underutilized in this particular search however as she happened to be in the second place he went looking, the second most obvious place as he passed back through the Penelope-less bullpen and the Garcia-barren halls to her tech office. This time, there was no knock preceding his entrance, instead, he started with concern, a soft “Hey, you okay?” brokering his arrival. She hadn’t been in here in weeks, but now suddenly, she was back.  

The doors were open, he could see her sitting on the low plush settee, computer in lap, fingers tirelessly tapping. She didn’t look up, but chirped back, “Agent Alvez, welcome back to my currently lesser used, but none-the-less beloved temple of knowledge.” With some finalizing clicks, Penelope moved the laptop to the cushion on her opposite side and canted her head, indicating she was waiting for him to join her. 

Luke entered taking the seat next to her, his right arm wrapping around her shoulders, his left crossing his body to place the cup in her waiting hands. Penelope, familiar to the routine now, was already pillowing her head to his chest as he pulled her in further, kissing her forehead and running his hand up and down her cardigan clad arm. 

“There a reason you’re working in here today…or maybe one for why you haven’t been?” He had long ago let her know he would gladly be the person she came to if things were wrong, and for a brief time, she confided in him, let him be that person for her…but since her return it had been a bit off…he still was that person, but she always qualified it now with some cutting list of who didn’t have time for her, or why she couldn’t go to anyone else. 

Excuses, he told himself.  

Penelope didn’t respond, opting instead to relax the full weight of her head on his shoulder, to feel his support. The cup balanced on her thighs, hands framing the heat radiating from it. There’s no one else she’d rather be there right now. 

She wasn’t thinking about his question, just him being there, him having been there, his unwavering consistency, their everyday little break and check-in, how lucky they’ve been that the team hasn’t been called away, how lonely it will be when they are… how she won’t have this when he is. She has to admit to herself that it’s been nice having someone else care for her. Silently, selflessly, comforting and caring. She’d missed that part of working with family. SOAR were more like her children, they were all so young, she was sheltering them , it’s why she started it in the first place. But the BAU those were her people, she grew up with them in a sense, the bond created there something unto itself, something untouchable, irreplaceable. They all looked out for each other, would do anything to protect each other... had done anything to protect each other... including Luke.  

Lifting the cup to her lips, the spicy chai scented steam tickles her nose and she inhales deeper letting the cardamom and ginger mix with the briny astringent smell of his aftershave before taking a sip, pooling the hot liquid in a bowl on her tongue, swallowing, then sighing, and sinking into the ocean of him, “I love you.” 

The stroke of Luke’s fingers stop.

 Penelope’s eyes pop open at the admission.  

SHIT.

Shit.

“This. I love this. The tea. Thank you. It is just. WhAT I needed.” She quickly stilts, sitting up and pulling away from his embrace, his fingers falling to release her like so many falling petals.

Fuck. 

She won’t look at him, eyes cast to the floor, her tea, the screens. How could she- did she just really? 

She loved him, she knew, had known since the dinner, or thought she could anyway. But she also knew he didn’t feel that way about her! It’s why she called it mid-meal! All that dining and wine-ing leading to other surely wonderful treacherous activities, only for her to get more attached and then him to gently, ease away? No, it was better to break it off right then, that way she wouldn’t get attached. The time apart from the team had been majorly helpful in easing those feelings, or so she thought. And this, she thought she had a handle on it, that things had gone back to being platonic. Or as platonic as they had ever been. These were just little visits between teammates, Luke noticing her daily work-from-home tea ritual helped center and relax her, helped her be more productive…

 But she just said it. 

TO HIM

And damn how true it was when she said it.How right it felt rolling off her tongue and curving past her lips, how good it felt to say it out loud escaping with the steam from her cup.  

Except now. Now it did not feel so good. Now it was out there floating around oppressively. And this, this stupid fucking outfit. Oh my god. He was going to think she’d done it on purpose, a grandiose planned declaration with cupids and hearts and everything!

Penelope walked to her desk, placing Nancy down, worrying her lip, still refusing to look at him. She wasn’t dumb, she felt his reaction, his shock, the physical stall of his body on hers. And Fluff, she could only guess what his mind was doing in response. He must feel like fleeing. She’d made a mess of things, so uncomfortable…Now he’d feel the need to let her down easy, to tell her he loved her too, just not in that way, that he cared for her, but maybe they should cool it with the tea-times for a bit. 

But she’d covered, maybe he’d hang on to that, let it dissolve between them, waft into the vents or get swept up in a dustpan like so much other dirt. 

—

She loved him? She loved him? She loved him. Could she really? The words had felt loving when he heard them, but her teasing and looks had felt that way too until they didn’t, until it came time for them to be honest. 

His fingers faltered, mind sputtering blank. He loved her, had loved her, for so long from so many different distances, so many different places. He loved her so deeply he was willing to be what she needed when she needed it, putting his desire for reciprocation aside to be with her in any capacity she’d allow, knowing he was doing it all despite her not loving him, even when it hurt that she wouldn’t see how he feels and wont feel the same. But this, was she finally maybe, opening up to the possibility? Did she love him? Actually? Romantically? Not in the way she says it to JJ and Morgan and Prentiss and hell…everyone but him.

Risking. It was a great risk to do what he felt was the only option for clarification, but one everything about this told him wasn’t so risky at all. He was glad to be a profiler at this exact moment and that he’d had all that practice reading Penelope Garcia specifically for so long.  

Luke stood, taking the two strides it took to get to her with more eagerness than may have been appropriate. 

And, oh look, right on cue here he is to deliver that crushing blow. “Ohh, the time!” Penelope said looking at her bare wrist, “You know I have to go- JJ- Emily-“ She faltered, still unwilling meet his gaze, turning to walk past him, make her way back to her abandoned laptop. Save herself, save face…cry out in her embarrassment the bathroom. 

Luke stopped her, hands clasping firmly around her elbows, large heavy stance keeping them both in place. Her face was cast down and god how he hated it, hated not seeing the candy of her eyes shining back at his. 

She was quiet, not saying a word, they both were for a minute. Then, gathering the rest of his courage, Luke requested soft and deep, slowly so that she’d hear every intention in his words, “Penelope Grace Garcia, I need you to look at me.” As he did, he move a hand from elbow to chin, “Right now, Chica.” and god, if he’d imagined the shiver of her body at his touch...

Tentatively her eyes met his, looking guilty, sad, his soberly hopeful, needing to know, “Do you mean it? How long?”

Penelope jerked her head to the side, face falling and hands pushing away,  “Alvez, let me go-“ 

But he wouldn’t, couldn’t, not when there was this crack in the wall, not now when she’d let this shimmer of truth slip. Breaking in a rush, he cut her off “-It’s been years. For me. Penelope Garcia, I’ve spent a lifetime loving you. Longer than lock-down, longer than I should have. If it were possible, I’d say longer than I’ve known you. But it’s not, it just feels like an eternity because I love you, and I have loved you and I think you love me too. God, I hope-” But he finds the rest of his thought turning to muffled noise as soft lips press to his and fingers curl against him, nails grazing his biceps as she pulls herself closer. 

His arms fold around her back and low on her waist, body rocking at the propulsion of her movement. She’s sweet and spicy, vanilla and chai, soft and silky and plush and warm and he’s walking her back and she’s following his lead and he should stop he should they’re at work, anyone could walk in at any time, this wasn’t entirely allowed, they work on a team together, Emily would kill them, which is honestly the least bad thing that could happen if they were found at this moment, but he can’t now that they’re here, he doesn’t want to now that they’re here. His heart is pounding and the blood is rushing through his ears, she hasn’t broken their kiss yet and his hand is drifting lower, gripping and pulling her closer but it only reminds him how short todays dress really is when fingertips brush along the meeting of ass and thigh and Penelope lets out a squeak of surprise that morphs into an “oof!” as they get resistance hitting the wall.

Her hands let go moving to spread on his chest, when she opens her eyes he’s looking down at her, wrecked, acquisitive, wild, and short of breath. Luke takes a step back, recovering space between them, pulling the hem of her skirt down in the process. Penelope slumps back against the wall, knees suddenly uncooperative. “So you love me huh?” 

Sucking in his lower lip, he eyes her playfully, and all Penelope can think is how nice that lip felt on hers, how she wants it back on hers, latching down her throat, wandering over her chest, down, down, down…her vision shifts. 

“I dunno, you still think you can’t talk to me without taking shots?”

Her eyes snap back to his, the pang of regret hitting when she sees the wound behind the joke.

“It was never like that…even when I tried to pretend it was. I’m sorry.” 

Luke only nods, “I do love you. I’m not sorry.” 

He was teasing, mostly, he was willing to let it go, had let what should have been much worse go, because as Pope said, hope springs eternal…and after that night, after the wake, she seemed to look at him differently, things had been different. 

Penelope’s hands dropped, her gaze going with them, finding it easier to communicate at this turning point when she wasn’t looking directly at the target of her hurt, focusing on her cuticles instead, “So where do we go from here?”

Scooping up the abandoned mug of tea and taking a hand in his, Luke pulled her back to the settee, “I think tonight, I take you home. We’ll order takeout from La Cubana, and we’ll have a do-over. But right now, I think we have tea and relax, and then in a few minutes we get back to finding killers, like normal.”

Sitting with his arm once again around her, Penelope looks up at Luke, unimpressed, a little horrified, “Our normal’s kinda gross.”

A twitch of amusement crosses his face, cheek dimpling with the smirk that forms, “Yeah, but it’s better when there’s hope.”

_____ _____

“Hope springs eternal in the human breast; Man never Is, but always to be blest. The soul, uneasy, and confined from home, Rests and expatiates in a life to come."

-Alexander Pope

-A Darcy fic check list- ✓ Fluffy cuddles ✓ Forehead kiss ✓ Over the top profession of love from one Luke Alvez ✓ Full name ✓ Singsong name ✓ Emotional check in 𐄂 Platonic Morvez, Garvez + Morgan

[mischieffoal]

LotR Musical: Round 3!

Just a bunch of my thoughts, once more. From Wednesday 4th October matinee

Pre-Show: 

Hobbit!Gimli asked if I wanted to play Ring-toss, and Lobelia challenged me to a game… if I gave her a spoon if she won. I went on stage, shook hands, bowed, played and failed, she got one, shook hands, happily congratulated her with a spoon. Which Rosie then accused her of stealing from me! The audacity!! 

Also, I gave Fatty a chocolate bar, and he loves it when people come back again because they always bring him snacks. Got some very funny photos with him. Also, he was having great fun yelling about food - “Hey! Everyone! If you want a Mars Bar, they’ve got a whole bag!”

Mrs. Bolger came and chatted to us about the party, and birthdays, and Rose having her birthday the day before Bilbo’s, and Fatty and Mrs.’ twins being born then too! A busy time in the Shire! The little fauntlings are over their with Fatty’s mum! For Bilbo’s speech, Gollum sat right behind me on the picnic table! He was wearing such a cute jumper. I have a problem. 

Act 1:

Gandalf!! I like this understudy! Actually much better than the original! Patrick Bridgman. More sure of himself, powerful in a way, authoritative. Felt more magic and different from the elves than Peter.

Aragorn carries Frodo in so many different ways in the space of about a minute (fireman's, bridal, piggyback, shoulders round)

When Bilbo says "I'm worried I'll turn into him", Gollum pokes his head in from the side and sneers. I’ve never noticed it before, it’s that subtle. You would only notice it at all if you’d seen it before, because he’s still in full hobbit costume. Holy shit it sent chills down my spine.

Each time they mentioned rings and losing their power, they all held theirs, including Elrond who doesn't even mention his

All the Hobbits are so HAPPY all the time up to and during star of Earendil, when around them others are worried and scared and sad - but they’re still set on their Adventure!! I love them!!

Gimli's outfit has the knotwork on the set, lit up in Moria, I really like that detail. It’s obvious, I just hadn’t made the connection before. He’s connected to the “earth” around them. 

Gandalf hugging Sam into Moria. Everyone in this show hugs so much and I love that.

It's *Legolas* who tells Merry that Gimli is singing a song of his ancestors. Goddddd the elf/dwarf everything in this musical. (Earlier, in the council, Gimli has to sit down on a bench next to Legolas, clearly hesitates, and Legolas literally turns his body away from him once he’s sat down)

The movement in Lothlorien is so *different* and fluid

Frodo just fucking crying his eyes out in Lothlorien. Everyone else is having the time of their lives. Poor poor man.

Boromir really is the bad guy in this musical, huh?

All the chest and head hand signs are so so sweet - touching you to me, sharing my mind and heart and soul. Elrond does it from his heart to Frodo’s heart, touching his chest and it’s just… so affectionate. The three hunters do the same to Boromir’s body, along with all their different prayer signs, and it makes me cry. 

This time the flute music truly was menacing - Saruman’s evil grin held for a while before playing

Have some accidental floating hobbits for the intveral:

Act 2:

R’s favourite bit was Aragorn and Arwen, she kept talking about it!

Aragorn/Arwen’s duet ends very abruptly with lighting changes and Arwen disappearing to aragorn finishing last note kneeling alone surrounded by men. Yes. God. Dream sequences for the win.

Legolas leaps around and does not-quite-flips in his fighting, whereas Gimli is always on the ground

Legolas snogging his bow

Legolas always looks so... clinical, practiced when fighting

"Come back when you're sober" catty asshole

Wonder - bunch of men (including many principles in human gear) sit on the round. As Galadriel sings each "out of", another person gets up and stands before her, until Aragorn, sword held high, “WONDER” - really uplifting. I also really really love Aragorn’s little bit “day may end”, why isn’t it in the cast recording.

When Gollum climbs, it’s up the wall rather than the ladders like Sam and Frodo, and in act 2’s lighting you can’t even see the holds - very creepy

Shelob was actually fantastic when I was properly aware of her. Beautiful and creepy and so much going on. 

Frodo and Gollum moving together and also SPEAKING together, when Gollum hears Sam say they'll destroy the ring

When Sam is convincing Frodo to get up so they can walk to mordor, he's reaching out to him, everyone comes on stage and reaches out to him, and he eventually manages to grab his hand

Sam yelling as he carries Frodo on his shoulders is spine-tingling again

Gollum's death, was, again, incredible

Sam and Frodo and Rosie standing together hugging as they wait for the wedding, making me awwww

Group Hobbit foot goodbye aaaaaaa

At the end as Frodo leaves, Gollum and then Bilbo play the tune accompanying him aaaaaa

Final observations:

Head holding situations: 

Aragorn and Boromir practically in each others’ faces as he dies

Aragorn and Frodo practically kissing

Gimli and Legolas do this too!! After they’ve proposed!! The spotlight has gone to Aragorn but they’re holding each other in the darkness!

Funny hobbit versions: 

Gollum x Aragorn Hobbit AU, 500k

Mrs. Bracegirdle is actually in the show! She’s Kelly!

Gollum is a Proudfoot. Need I say more.

Rosie is Scottish! How could I forget this!

After the show, I congratulated Rosie, Legolas, Haldir, Bilbo and Saruman! I passed on E’s praise of “gay supervillain audacity” and they laughed and said “well it’s hard to hide”. (Side note: they’re enby, of course this is why I find him so attractive)

And, finally, my favourite thing I noticed in the whole show:

For all of Act 2, Frodo's voice is tremulous, breathy and tired EXCEPT directly after Sam says “Well, there’s nothing we can do about that” (the elves leaving for the West). 

“Yes we can.”

Completely normal voice. Terrifying.

[macabremoons]

Pretentious Poetry

Summary: Emotions are hard, but feelings for Benjamin, the boy she never thought she'd even like, are harder. What's easier, though not by much, is writing poetry. After all, isn't love the perfect muse?

A/N: This is for my friends birthday! Happy birth bestie!! Also thank you to @mouseinthegreenhouse for betaing, though they spent most of it making fun of Menodora. Keep in mind this is not canon to the Daycycle universe. This is just a ship fic. Enjoy! My masterlist is here

"I know what you want from me, Benjamin. It’s a horrible idea," Menodora says as Benjamin walks her to her door. She hangs in the doorway, watching only her breath turn to mist. 

"Okay."

"Seriously.”  She scrambles for something to say. She can’t think of anything else.

"Okay, Menodora." He sounds somewhere between tired and amused. "Goodnight."

"Goodnight," she says. She shuts her door, ignoring how warm her cheeks feel. 

--

My body crescendos, she wrote once. It's barely a line, not really poetry, but she tries to shove all the emotion she has into it. She fails.

There's hundreds more like this. Fragments of deep emotion. Talentless scarps of attempts to grow closer to the single truth.

If you were my disaster, another reads, I'd die directly in your arms. But you are my lighthouse so I love you like letting my ship take harbor before putting it out to sea. 

She could just write I love you. It'd be so much more symbolic. It still wouldn't put to words the shame she feels. 

--

She runs into him three days later in the rain. He laughs at her as she holds her book bag over her head before extending his umbrella to her. 

"Sometimes I forget how much you hate the rain."

"I'll never understand why people like it," Menodora huffs. She leans closer so he too gets covered by the umbrella, ignoring how close this makes them. 

"Not everyone has lightning in their veins, presumably." He turns a bit to look at her from the corner of his eye. "Have you eaten?"

"Oh— No. I had to get to class."

He takes his free hand and grabs one of Menodora's. "Come on, I'll take you to my favorite place. They have meat buns there."

It takes all of her willpower to not make her heart pound. A no is on the tip of her tongue, but then her heart leaps out of her hands; Benjamin smiles.

"As long as you eat too," is all she says instead. He grabs one of her arms without hesitance. She counts it as a win.

When they get to the cafe she orders a black coffee. He scrunches his nose. "Sugar doesn’t kill, you know that?”

“It can actually,” Menodora says, sipping her perfectly normal coffee. They sit down. “It’s not my fault one of us would drink sugar if they could.”

“That’s a very common thing.”

“And it’s unhealthy. And gross.”

Benjamin puts both arms on the table. “You just hate sweet things. You’re so…”

“Bitter?”

“Savory.” He mixes his coffee. “Not bitter.”

“Same thing.” Benjamin huffs. Menodora looks out the window. He’s wearing that hoodie she likes. 

Focus. She can write bad unfinished poetry about this later.

She takes out her laptop and they study. Benjamin tells her about all the history he’s learning about. He makes Menodora laugh with horrible jokes, and she makes fun of his professor. She tells him about the music history of things around the same time, and she swears he hangs off her every word.

She finds herself wondering what his coffee tastes like during one of his rants about the typos in his study material. But it’s all gone. Menodora wonders if it’s still on his lips.

--

"What do you think blood is?" she asks. They lay on the cool back of his car. 

"Like literally or?"

"Metaphorically of course. Non physically at the very least."

"Those are two different things."

Menodora shakes her head. "No, no. It's like, most people say blood is life—life energy, light force—but I don't believe that."

Benjamin turns to her. "What do you believe then?"

This curiosity is so faerie-like that she reminds herself of the hate she feels for anyone who doesn't consider him to be the fae. What vampire would humor her but him, a half fae? What vampire would love her so to withstand her constant fluctuations from adoration to maliciousness?

"Blood is the soul. Which sounds the same, but it's not. Life is existence, the plants the trees, but your soul is you. Maybe drinking someone's blood means understanding them past any way words could describe."

"You're good at that. Writing poetry out of nowhere."

"I could have read it somewhere," she defends. She feels the need to shift her head closer to his.

"But you didn't. It came from you. It came from your personal experiences."

If only he knew how true that was. "What constellations do you want to see tonight?"

"I don't care. As long as I'm with you it's fun." He looks back at the sky. Menodora is thankful. She doesn't know what she'd do if he was still looking at her. "And I don't know if I agree with your idea."

"Really? What do you think?" He's  more knowledgeable on the subject anyway. Menodora's thoughts on the matter are scraps of requests that live and die on her tongue when she sees him.

"It makes the whole blood drinking thing sound pretty. It isn't. It's ugly and raw and, well, awful."

His face is so sour. He speaks as if he's some werewolf, ranting about vampires. He speaks as if he isn't one himself, as if human blood does not run in his stomach at this moment.

Human blood that is not Menodora's. Such a stupid thing to be envious of. 

"Hard to know which one of us is more right. Historically one of us is the bitter and the bitten, but you know what blood tastes like more than I do. Still, I do think it's pretty. Like childbirth is beautiful without being beautiful. It's messy and miserable, but it's life."

Benjamin laughs. It makes the cool night air taste bitter on Menodora's tongue. "I wish I thought like that. How do you find it within yourself to find it pretty? Doesn't it, I don't know, scare you?"

Don't I scare you? The question hangs in the air, and Menodora shakes her head to dispel it. "No, it doesn't."

--

Scary how? She writes on a napkin as soon as she gets home. Your arms have never crushed me.

She groans into her hands when she can not think of another line. She repeats it out loud time and time again, but there's nothing to add. It's not perfect. Menodora knows it needs something to really drive the punch of phonetics in.

She has no more words to say. She realizes now that the words are more like a diary entry than a poem. It's fact, not poetry. 

She goes back to some of her old lines in frustration. If she can not write something new, she can finish something old, surely. She spends hours at her desk over the next couple of days. She crumbles paper after paper, dashes word after word. She pokes her emotion like a bear for inspiration. She bargains with creativity. 

She ends up with this:

My body crescendos 

I crash crushed by the waves

I'd carve your name into the skin above my heart

I'd halt the heavens so they could hear you 

I'd do all this, all this, but I wouldn't say I love you

It turns out that the real poetry is still a fact, this one Menodora had been hoping was fiction.

--

Menodora presses her face into Bonnie’s couch and screams. “I’m a horrible person.”

“No, you’re not.” Bonnie rubs her back. “Why do you think so?”

“Because. Ben likes me—thinks he likes me. But he doesn’t because he doesn't know how”—she makes a noise—”I am. So he thinks he likes me.”

“Insecure?” Menodora lifts her face enough to glare at Bonnie. “I’m sorry, it’s true. I’ve never seen someone do more mental gymnastics to convince themselves someone didn’t like them.”

“But he’s so pretty.”

“You are too?”

“And kind, and funny.”

“Again, describing yourself.”

Menodora shakes her head. She lifts herself up completely. She puts a hand on each of Bonnie’s shoulders. “I’m not, though. I am not kind. I’m disarming, not funny. I’m so me.”

“And he likes you, for all of that. He isn’t blind. He knows you almost got him expelled.”

Menodora gags. “Don’t remind me. That— I want to say that was a lapse in judgment, but honestly it was pretty in character.”

“Yeah, it was. And that’s why he likes you. Because you are kind, funny, clever, disarming, pretty, and miserable to the bone.”

Menodora takes a bite of her previously discarded food. She can’t believe she let Bonnie get into her head. She promised that this movie night would be an opportunity to stop thinking about Benjamin, but here she is thinking about his name over and over.

“He deserves someone better,” Menodora says, still chewing. Bonnie sighs. “I’m serious! A normal girl would have told him that she didn’t like him by now, but here I am studying with him and eating the food he bought me. Oh my God, I’m leading him on. Oh my God.” She faceplants back into the couch. “I’m a horrible friend.”

Bonnie puts Menodora’s head in her lap. She pats Menodora’s forehead. “You’re not friends. Well, you are, but be honest you guys have been half dating for months. Would it really hurt just to stop running away from your feelings?”

Menodora hugs Bonnie’s knees. “I don’t know. What if he doesn’t get it though? What if he thinks loving me will be easy and backs down when he realizes I am so haphazardly broken?”

“Menodora,” Bonnie says, as if Menodora’s name has powers, “no one is easy to love. Benjamin isn’t even easy to love. He’s reckless, careless, and a little emotionally insensitive.”

Menodora turns onto her back. “But he doesn’t mean to be, and he always apologizes, even if he can't.” 

“Yes, but you never have to accept those sorries, but you do, because you love him. He’d accept a thousand of your apologies, Meno. He’d accept you.”

--

Emilio accidentally sees some of her poetry when it leaks out of her bag. The look of pure disgust is enough to make her laugh.

“You need help. From a higher power. All of them at once,” he signs. 

“You don’t even know what the poem is about,” she signs back. 

“Mute. I am not blind, I’m mute. One day that is going to get into your thick skull. I see the way you look at Benjamin. A pair, you two. Disgustingly odd and weird and crooked. I’m almost surprised you two aren’t dating.”

“You and everyone else,” she sighs. “I’m starting to wonder a bit myself.”

Emilio makes a face. “I do not want to know. Talk to Bonnie about this, if you must.”

Menodora gathers her papers. “Well obviously we don’t need to continue our lesson today if you know enough signs to insult me. You’re getting really good, by the way.”

Emilio smiles a bit. “Thanks. Though I will say, while I have… thoughts about Benjamin, he’d be good for you.”

From Emilio that’s as good as the Luna’s word documented in gold. It’d be foolish not to at least consider his words. Menodora has never considered herself a fool.

--

“Why do you like poetry?” Benjamin asked her once, months ago.

“I don’t know.” She bit into her bread, looking off for an answer. “As pretentious as it is, poetry feels like breathing to me. It’s something I do because I must. I enjoy it because it fuels me.”

“Many would consider poetry pretentious.”

“I resent that. Poetry is often just emotion put to words in its rawest form. Is emotion pretentious?”

Benjamin thought for a moment. “Depends. Entitlement is pretty pretentious.”

“That isn’t relevant to the current topic,” Menodora huffed. “I agree, but every poem is not entitled. It’s withdrawn, if anything. Poetry is all the things you wish you could say but you don’t.”

“What do you write about, then?”

This question rings in her head as she looks at her newest poem.

If you were a disaster, I'd die directly in your arms

But you are my lighthouse in a lighting storm

My love in a lawless land

I'd dock my boat near you without hesitance

And I'd leave your harbors with resistance

Darkness they deem you, but dare I call them wrong

There's so much light within you, my little hailstorm

Menodora hates this poem. She can’t tell if it’s because it’s bad, or if the weight of the things she keeps not saying is starting to weigh her down. Even if she is right in her thinking, is she right in her execution? 

--

Menodora runs into Benjamin on his exam day. He’s a flurry of rants, even though he got a good grade. Menodora almost feels bad for her professor, and then she remembers that he docked twenty point from one of Benjamin’s essays because he felt it could be better. He deserves every true complaint  that falls from Benjamin’s mouth.

At the end of his rant, Benjamin turns to Menodora. “Want to go out in, say, a week? I have to take my sister to this concert she’s excited about, but afterwards I’m free.”

Menodora ducks bread into her coffee. “Sure. Where do you want to go? I heard that there was a good movie in theaters.”

“One of your movies or mine?”

“Yours.”

Benjamin scrunches his nose. “So you can look like half on death’s door trying to keep in your criticisms?”

Menodora just doesn’t think that being shot in the leg is something you can walk off, and that media should stop presenting it as such so Emilio doesn’t have to deal with more dumbasses in his office, but to each their own. “I like going with you.”

Benjamin raises an eyebrow. “Is that a confession, my dear?” Menodora takes a sip of her coffee. “I’m joking.”

“I know. I didn’t say no.” There’s soggy bread crumbles in her mouth. How unromantic. “Take it as an invitation. I’d ask you out, but that’d be ruining your chance, no?”

She makes eye contact with him at her last word, and instantly regrets it. Benjamin looks so shocked. You’d think she told him he won the lottery or something. 

“I can’t tell if you’re joking.” He pauses, and if he could, Menodora thinks he’d take a deep breath. “It’d be a very unfunny one.”

“No, that’d be cruel. I’m being honest.”

“You want to go out?”

“Yes.”

“On a date?”

“Yes.”

Benjamin narrows his eyes. “What happened to your whole reservations?”

“Maybe I realized I can’t make choices for other people, or that it isn’t even a choice I’d want to make for you. Also maybe I’m bad at being emotionally coherent.”

“But you like me?”

“I’m starting to regret this.”

“Come on! At least give me this.”

“Yes, I like you. I have for months. Admittingly I’m starting to think instead of letting you take me out I should apologize and forget this interaction existed.”

“Do not.” 

“Ah, constraints.” She smiles. “I won’t.”

He waves a hand. “If you had told me that you didn’t like me, I would have stopped chasing you. Simple as that. But I knew that wasn’t exactly the truth, and I figured you would eventually cough up your reasoning. You never did though.”

“Must you shake the entire truth out of me?”

“Physically, no. Emotionally, yes. You’re a very confusing lady. Pretty, but still.”

“It just sounds silly to me. I am very unsure why you’d want to pursue a relationship with me. I’m not exactly nice, or darling. It’d be difficult to go to family gatherings. Kronos would probably hate anyone I hate, so that’s fine, but your parents like you. I like your parents. It’s embarrassing, I’d think.”

He blinks. “That’s… it?” He closes his eyes. “I understand your claims are serious and whatnot, but I thought you didn’t like me, or thought that dating someone like me would be too taxing.”

“Why would I care?”

“Better question: why would I?” He laughs. “You’re so interesting. You crushed me in debate months ago, but now you sit before me and tell me that you have nothing of value to offer. You’re wrong about that, by the way. You are very darling, and nice, when you allow yourself to be.”

“Which isn’t always.”

“Does it have to be? It’s enough for me.”

“We’re teenagers now, but what about later? It’s not like there’s many ways I could become immortal. It’s a coupling made for heartbreak.”

“That is a better reasoning.” He takes a sip of his coffee and pulls a face of disgust when it’s most likely cold. “I might be immortal, but I am still young. It will be a very long time before that means anything to me.” He rests his head in one of his hands. “Besides, I don’t think I could love anyone else.”

“It’s too soon to say.”

“No, it’s not. It’s not something I can explain to you that you would understand. Our elements are so different, and we aren’t the species, but this is something I just know. We were made for each other, not just here and now, but in the next a thousand years, in every universe.”

“Oh my God,” she groans. Menodora is not going to blush at that. “Are we going out or not?”

“Of course, darling. Though not the movies, what mild soul do you think I am?”

“Truly my mistake,” Menodora deadpans. 

“Yes, yes.” He puts a finger to his chin. “Dinner? Somewhere fancy?”

“Okay.”

“I’ll pick you up—and pay. Don’t even try it.”

She rolls her eyes. “I wasn’t going to try to.”

His eyes soften. “You really are enough for me, you know that?”

“I think I’m starting to.” His phone buzzes. “Ah, right. You have a study group soon.”

“Actually I’m late for it.” He gets up. “We’ll talk later?”

“Sure.”

“Okay. Goodbye."

"Goodbye, Menodora."

--

Two weeks later they go to the movies like she wanted. Afterwards they sit in his car. He's completely leaned over to her side of the car, pressing kisses all over her face. She laughs, but he tells her it's quite serious.

"It's not everyday you get to kiss a pretty girl, you know. That's why you truly must savor the moment."

He drives her home and insists on pulling straight up to her house. When Kronos asks how her evening was with that boy, she feels less uncomfortable.

"Well, sir, I am dating that boy," she says. The look of disgust on Kronos's face is enough to make her giddy.

--

"You never show me any of your poetry," Benjamin whines one day, face planting into the crook of her neck.

Menodora side eyes him. "You're reading it now, certainly."

"It's the principle of the thing. My girlfriend, the most beautiful woman I've ever met, won't even let me read the thing she's passionate about. Maybe I have failed as a boyfriend because—"

Menodora isn't listening to that entire paragraph. "I didn't let you read them because they were about you."

Benjamin straightens up. "Really? Can I read one now?"

"They're not good. The word choice is awful. The things I was trying to express were cringey." None of her words are making him look less excited. "Fine, but if you start going on and on about how great you are afterwards I'm kicking you out."

She opens her draw and pulls out her poetry scraps. "I didn't finish a lot of it. You're hard to write about."

Benjamin takes the stack from her and pulls up a chair. She stops writing to watch him read. Curse him and his stupid vampire genes because his face is so blank as he reads it. He isn't doing it on purpose so she can't even complain about it. Menodora huffs. 

She sees one of the full poems and she's immediately mortified. "Nevermind give it back."

"These are beautiful," he says, voice so full of wonder. "I love these. You're an incredible poet."

Menodora grabs at her poems. He lets her take them. "I appreciate it, but it's nothing, really. They are just stray thoughts about how I was feeling."

Benjamin's awe only grows. "Do you mean to say that your actual thoughts are just as pretty as that?"

"I will kill you."

Benjamin kisses her cheek. "I'd let you, sweetheart. It's a little bonding exercise."

She ignores the validity of the statement. "It's weird having you read those. I never thought you'd see them."

"There's no part of you that scares me. Besides, it's very flattering."

"What did I say about the ego thing?" Menodora warns, but the look in Benjamin's eyes keeps her from bantering further.

"I love you," he says simply, but it's for the first time.

"I love you too," she replies, warmer than she's been before. 

[ccaptain]

@resolutepath: It feels odd, Diluc finds, as he stands in the bar, awaiting the entrance of a particular captain. This is the first year he has thought to be so forward, leaning not into subtefuge and anonymous - well mostly anonymous- gifts but actually handing something physically to the man he's been estranged from for so long. Too long. He has almost backed out multiple times, a combination of feeling silly and uncertainty about how it will be perceived. Still, he persists, waiting for that shock of blue.

He doesn't wait long.

Kaeya approaches the bar in good spirits. He must have spent the day in good company, well deserved company, or else be putting on a facade. Diluc's too wrapped up in his own anxieties to differentiate. He hopes for the former, at least. He waits till Kaeya's order slips from his lips and then prepares the drink - one death after noon. As he twists back to the bar, he hooks up the bag that's sitting on the stool beside him and places it next to the drink. Shoddily wrapped - clearly Diluc's work rather than Adelinde's - but obviously a present for the day. He clears his throat, pushing it forward and gestures.

"Happy birthday..." His voice sounds small, like he daren't raise it for fear of ruining the moment, crimson eyes avert, and he coughs. "It's not much... but you'll understand." He hopes. How could Kaeya ever forget the significance of a bag of hand-picked seashells after all?

   that kaeya had been steadily getting better at celebrating his birthday was no secret.

   going from accidentally forgetting it to waltzing in the tavern to celebrate with a drink should be rewarded, an incredulous leap forward. it's always stupefying, when he finds himself getting better- smiling more often, the raincloud of melancholy above him appearing less and less, his footsteps more steady.

   today, his work desk was swamped with gifts. steadily, one by one, his friends poured in the room with gentle smiles, wishing him an happy birthday. he has collected a new set of ink and a dark blue quill, a drawing klee put all of her efforts into that will be framed and put to pass judgement over his paperwork, a light blue blouse with golden indents- and, the best gift of all, the joy of being together with jean, klee and lisa, who organized him a special tea party and give everyone a much needed break from their duties.

   his heart is light when he carries his haul home, the soft, small smile that comes natural on his lips is kept until he reached for the tavern- where it grows bigger. there's someone he wants to see, there's a routine to uphold. each birthday is ended here at sundown, exactly where he wants to be and seeing exactly who he wants to see.

   there's the joy of a birth day to share with a certaint redhead, and that's just what kaeya does.

   ' one death after noon for the special birthday boy, please, ' the smile he flashes diluc is cheeky, carrying the good mood of a day well spent in his happiness. he hopes it's contagious, that it reached diluc past the barrier they have put up between eachother for just one day. 

   the surprise and shock that take over kaeya's face cancel out everything else.

   pale diamond darts from the little wrapped up bag to diluc's face, scanning for an answer- any kind of answer. an explanation, perhaps even a cold joke- but it's right here on the wooden counter, offered by his brother. it's an unconcealed peace offering between them.

   the daintness of shaky digits unwrapping the bag should pass unnoticed. but it won't.

   there's blue spilling out of the bag, a familiar texture under his fingertip. with infinite tenderness, he picks a seashell out.

   and, suddendly, he knows his good mood will last for days to come.

   there's so many more in the bag to be treasured for later. but this one, the one kaeya has picked out first- that one gets held gently in the palm of his hand, cradled close to his heart. the drink can wait.

   ' what are you saying? ' kaeya asks quiet and moved. if there's a little wet shimmer over his eyelashes, master diluc will understand this, too.

   ' this is the best present i've ever been given, 'luc. '

   it's like having a little bag of forgiveness, each conch proof that they still care about eachother. each conch an hand stretched out towards the other. kaeya wants to laugh, and then he wants to cry- and to think that, perhaps, he deserves the gentleness, that he can allow himself this little, sweet feeling.

   it was a good birthday indeed...

my honest reaction to this ask:

[starlitangels]

Happy Birthday Zo! (2023 Edition)

It's my friend's birthday! It's her birthday it'sherbirthday it'sherbirthdayit'sherbirthdayit'sherbirthday! 2.0k words

@zozo-01 Happy Freakin' Birthday my friend! Enjoy a little bit of spice ;-)

To everyone else: You can read this if you want but it's not generalized. It's very much for Zo.

—

You set your phone down after what felt like the twentieth call of the day. This one from Marie and Colm. "You know," you say to Sam, "I love my pack. But..." You try to think of the most accurate way to describe how much the pack can be.

Sam purses his lips thoughtfully and nods. "They love you and want to express it, darlin'," he remarks. "But I know what you mean." He wraps an arm around your shoulder. "And, hey. Your birthday is the best time to receive calls from the whole pack." A mischievous smirk touches the corners of his mouth. "Though, I think Marie and Milo are the only ones outta all-a 'em who can actually sing."

You laugh. "Milo gets it from Marie. And you are right. David probably could if he was forced to. But you know him. He's... better than he was, but still grumpy and serious a lot of the time. I think Asher can sing, but he's so focused on being goofy that he doesn't think about trying." You smile fondly. Your pack brothers are all idiots in their own way, but they're family. And, since coming back to Dahlia, they've been making a greater effort to show you how much they care about you.

Sam twists and looks over his shoulder, out the windows of the living room to the quiet woods beyond. "So," he says. "What do you want to do for the rest of the night? We can make a dinner reservation for somewhere nice, we could go for a run through the trees... up to you, darlin'."

Your wolf scratches gently at your mind from your Core. Its claws quiet but excited at the suggestion of a run through the woods. Not to mention it's been a while since you shifted...

"Run?" you suggest. "Maybe just a short one, but a good run sounds nice."

Sam nods. "'Course," he says. "Let me go put on some shoes."

He disappears from the living room with a zip!

You get up and get comfortable to run in wolf form. Nothing Sam hasn't seen before. But you know him. You know he'll freeze and stare like a deer in headlights when he sees you. And you know you'll laugh and he'll get grumpy before loosening up.

Unless of course...

When Sam returns to the living room only seconds after leaving, he's greeted by your massive wolf form curled up on the hearth rug. He smiles and chuckles. "Not surprised," he says. "Ready to go, darlin'?"

You pick yourself back to your feet and nod. He reaches out a hand toward you. An offer. You nuzzle your head into his palm and let him scratch at your fur. Trusting him to be careful and not scratch too hard with vampiric strength. He smiles softly and opens the door to the cabin.

You leap through the door with an excited Yip and Sam smiles as he follows you out. He shuts and locks the door behind you both. "Lead the way," he says.

You huff out your nose in a wolfish smile and start running. The trees whip by in a blur. The earth beneath your feet is cool and firm as your claws scratch into the dirt. The wind rushes through your thick fur. You whip your tail in joy.

Sam runs beside you, his boots louder through the underbrush than the pads of your paws.

The two of you run for a long time. Sam doesn't get tired, though he does get winded. You take a large circle as a path through the wild undergrowth. Neither of you need a trail. You need the real woods. Not the tamed bits hikers see. Neither of you would ever get lost in these trees anyway. They're your home.

That, and you can follow your scent trail back home anyway.

When you're finally winded enough to take a break, you stop to pant. Sam stops beside you. "Time to break?"

You nod.

He nods and plops down on a bed of fallen pine needles, reaching out silently for you.

You shift back and settle down in his lap. The moment you're human again, he smirks. And hands you his flannel, leaving him in the T-shirt he wore under it. You slide your arms in the too-long sleeves and tuck the buttons around your front. He's so much taller than you that the flannel falls to nearly halfway down your thighs. He wraps his arms around you and holds you close to his chest. "Guess what, darlin'?" He starts gently rubbing your arm.

"Hmm?"

"You haven't even asked what I got you for your birthday yet."

"I told you, you didn't have to get me anything."

He rolls his eyes. "What kind of mate do you think I am? I don't have to, but I want to."

"Yeah but you got me that knife last year. That was enough."

Sam gives you a look. "That was last year. This is this year." He tugs on one of your curls playfully. "I did get you somethin'."

You watch him lean back so he can dig his hand into the pocket of his jeans and pull something out. It's a small black velvet bag. He holds it out for you. You take it from his hand. You give him playfully-suspicious narrowed eyes. He offers a placid smile in return. "What is it?" The bag is light, silken cords keep the top pulled closed.

"Open it 'n' see."

"More Collins family traditions?"

"Nope. A new one. For you 'n' me."

A smile lifts your mouth at the thought of that. Traditions for the two of you. Just the two of you. Not pack traditions. Not clan traditions. Something special to be shared in private.

You tug open the top of the bag and dip your fingers in.

Something leathery brushes your fingertips. You pinch it and pull it out.

Dangling off a cord of black leather...

"Is this a wolf's tooth?" you ask.

He nods. "Mmhmm. I think it's a baby tooth from the Gray Wolf pack that lives deeper in the woods. They had pups recently. I cleaned it, sterilized it. Put it on the cord. Thought you'd prefer something handmade, instead-a bought."

He takes it from you and ties it behind your neck.

You bend toward him and throw your arms around him when he's done. "I love it," you say softly. He kisses your hair on the side of your head. You lean back enough to meet his lips in a kiss.

He slides his hand into your hair on the back of your head, his fingers curling into your hair softly, trying desperately to hold you impossibly closer.

His flannel slips a little off your shoulders. His other hand cups your bare shoulder.

In a flash of movement that makes your head spin, you're both standing, and you're pinned firm against the trunk of a thick, old tree.

Most of the time, Sam's kisses are gentle. Tender. Loving. Until he gets heated. Then he becomes rougher.

The scale escalates quickly as you run your hands over him. His torso pins you to the tree and his little noises warm the blood in your veins. His hands search your skin, digging in, as his mouth moves over yours.

You recognize the feeling of him thinking he can't get enough of you. You recognize it because you're the same way.

Your hands ball into fists in the back of his T-shirt and yank him against you. He moans quietly, pressing closer to you and digging his fingertips into your shoulder. His sigh flutters your loose hairs.

With all the movement and the fact that you hadn't actually buttoned his flannel around you, it falls just a little bit open, letting the wolf tooth on your chest be framed by the neckline. "This alright?" Sam asks quietly.

"More than alright," you reply.

"Mind if I explore?"

"Only if I can."

"Always, darlin'," Sam breathes.

You smile and let your hands wander under his T-shirt. His hand not in your hair slides down your arm and dodges between the folds of his flannel around you.

—

There are two people standing on your front porch when you and Sam get home from your... run. Just a run. Yup. Nothing else.

You recognize the overwhelmingly powerful aura of a demon, and the chaotic but somewhat subdued one of a Freelancer.

Your neighbors.

Well. "Neighbor" is a generous word. There's a solid mile of uninterrupted, untamed, wild forest between Sam's cabin and their little cottage. They had moved in less than a year ago, but were quiet. Both of them seemed to be bookish and unendingly curious, but they usually kept to themselves.

The Freelancer, a woman a few years older than you with long white hair, is holding something in her hands. A plate. Covered in cling film. Something brown on the plates.

"Avior. Estelle. What a surprise. We were just out for a run," Sam says. "Would you care to come in?" He's trying to be polite, but you can tell he doesn't actually want visitors at the moment. The demon and Freelancer step away from the front door so he can unlock it.

"We won't stay," Avior says, shoving a bit of his wavy chocolate brown hair out of his face.

"We just remembered you mentioning October first is Zo's birthday, and we wanted to bring a little birthday treat," Estelle adds, holding up the plate in her hands.

You, still in wolf form, slide between all of them and into the house. Once out of sight, you shift back and pull on some clothing before returning to the door.

"And what are these?" you ask, taking the plate from Estelle.

She smiles. "They're cookies, but I make them with a cake mix recipe, and then some other ingredients. They're cookie texture, but they taste like cake. Sometimes cake is a little too rich so this helps with portioning. Because sometimes a slice of cake is just too much, y'know?"

You remember the cake Marie made for Milo's birthday this past year and how it was so rich that your mouth didn't want to handle a whole slice. "Mmhmm," you agree.

"Although, I did switch the recipe from chocolate chips to caramel ones. I thought it might make the taste a little sweeter. Sometimes chocolate cake mixes are too semi-sweet."

You laugh. "Thank you, Estelle."

She beams. "Happy birthday, Zo. I hope you have a good day."

"That's very sweet."

Avior holds out a hand toward Estelle. "C'mon, starlight. We should leave them to it," he says. Metallic gold eyes meet yours. "Happy birthday, Zohniyya." He smiles.

"Thank you, Avior."

Hand-in-hand, the two trot down the porch steps and stroll off into the darkening night. Even Estelle's hair, stark and bright as it is, disappears into the shadows.

Sam tugs you back into the house and shuts the door behind the two of you.

"I'm trying one of these cookies," you say, already pulling the cling film off.

Sam chuckles and zips around you, returning with your phone. "Looks like you missed some calls, darlin'."

You sigh and look over all the missed notifications. "Uh-oh. I missed a call from Vincent and Rehna." The missed call's contact, Rennie, lets you know it was definitely both of them. Probably calling to sing Happy Birthday, or at least wish you well on your birthday.

There's that touch of mischief in Sam's face. Making its return. "Better call them back before they show up here too. I plan on keepin' you all to myself for the rest of the night."

Your heart flutters a little in your chest at the small growl low in his throat as he says that. You're definitely down for a round two. Though... it's definitely more like round... five? You lost count.

You smile and tap the missed call notification to call back.

"Good birthday, darlin'?" False innocence returns to Sam's face.

You grin at him while your phone rings. "The best."

[amberjazmyn]

always daddy's little girl

𝓲𝓶𝓪𝓰𝓲𝓷𝓮 - always daddy's little girl 

𝔀𝓪𝓻𝓷𝓲𝓷𝓰𝓼 - fluff, dad x misha, an emotional reunion between dad and daughter, military reunion, happy tears 

𝓭𝓮𝓼𝓬𝓻𝓲𝓹𝓽𝓲𝓸𝓷 - misha's oldest daughter, mila, was in the military for nearly four years, since she turned eighteen so, she was now twenty-one, a week off turning twenty-two. and, she was returning, finally able to come home. so, she decided to surprise her entire family at a supernatural convention.

𝓪𝓾𝓽𝓱𝓸𝓻'𝓼 𝓷𝓸𝓽𝓮 - these military imagines are my favourite to write and to read so, yeah, please enjoy this one! also, i'm including the spn cast and misha and vicki's actual children because, why not imagine a world where one of misha's made up kids in this book comes back from the military. 

masterlist

- - - 

mila collins had been waiting for this day for as long as she could possibly remember. she was finally going home after edging on four long years with the military as a medic since she turned eighteen. meaning, she was now a week from turning twenty-two and her commander decided she was ready to be discharged of her duties and live the rest of her twenties up because, truly, she deserved it. mila was one of their best military medics and, whilst it was heartbreaking for them to lose her, it was time and they couldn't argue with that. 

now though, mila was about to surprise her mom, vicki, in the green room alongside rich and rob who were helping her with the surprise. they were filming the reactions of everyone that mila was surprising today. it was obvious to her uncles, rich and rob, that it had been a while since mila was this excited for something. 

"...guys, we've got richard and i's niece, mila collins, with us fresh from a four-year-long deployment overseas as a military medic and she's about to surprise her mom, vicki, in the green room. we have to be extremely quiet though as right behind this door, vicki is absolutely cluelessly waiting without any idea that her eldest daughter is finally home!" rob whispered as mila excitedly waved to the film camera as the three held in their laughter 

"so, mila, you're finally home after almost four years of service, how does it feel to finally be home after so long?" rich whispered as mila giggled softly as he rested against rich who smiled sweetly

"it feels amazing as i left for the military on my eighteenth birthday meaning i was barely an adult so, i needed to grow up really quickly since i was the youngest on the squad. which, when i did end up telling mom and dad, mum was all for it but with worry of course but, not as much as dad. dad was a lot more tentative and anxious about it because he felt like he still had to look after me and he was very protective about it. but, once he realised i was going to be a medic he was a lot more for it but still anxious over it," mila smiled as rich and rob nodded their heads smiling 

"well, i think it's time we knock on this door and surprise your mom. four years is too long to go without seeing anyone, what do you think mila?" rob asks as mila bites her lip, nodding her head with a shy smile 

"yeah, let's go!" mila whispered and without a second, richard taps his knuckle against the green room's door

vicki's faint voice is heard from the other side, mila's heart growing a size bigger, "come in!" vicki's voice was soft but smiling sounding 

not a second later and rich opened the door and let mila in first before rob and himself. doing this to see how long it would take for vicki to look up from her phone to notice that her daughter was in front of her. it took vicki a short two minutes to realise the change in the room and look up from her phone to see her gorgeous twenty-one, almost twenty-two, year old mila looking back at her. injury-free cause being a military medic wasn't easy and pain free by any means, just like mila had promised her family. it took vicki less than those two minutes to realise for her to leap out of her chair, her phone slipping out of her hand and pull her daughter into her arms for that four-year-long awaited hug. 

"mila! what are you doing here!?" vicki hushed out, quickly realising that mila was going to surprise the rest of the family - leaving dad misha for last 

"i'm home for good momma. commander said i had done everything i could and he was more than satisfied with four-years of service that it was only fair that i live the rest of my life without fear because i deserve it," mila smiled as vicki shook her head with the biggest smile of relief on her face and pulls her little girl in for another hug 

 "i'm so glad you're home, mila!" vicki whispered as mila smiled as the two ladies pulled back from the hug 

"i'm glad as well momma! but now, where are my little babies? i wanna surprise westy and maison!" mila clapped excitedly as vicki, richard and rob giggled as vicki responded 

"they're currently on stage with uncle jensen and uncle jared," vicki smiled with her arms crossed over her chest as mila pouted, her hand going over her heart

that was when the four made their way to the stage. that was how they were going to surprise west and maison. richard, rob and mila at the entrance to the audience space so the kids could run down the middle aisle to reunite with their older sister. 

waiting at the door's entrance to the audience brought butterflies to mila's stomach due to her excitement. she was so excited to reunite with not just her siblings, west and maison but also her uncles, jared and jensen. 

richard, who was holding the camera gave the countdown and it was finally happening. mila was reuniting with her little brother and sister. the first one to realise was little west but, he just waved to her as his fingers were in his mouth. waving back, mila was smiling as jared, who also just realised, smacked jensen who had maison sitting in his lap. 

"jense...look," jared hushed out, biting his lips so his excitement wouldn't take over as jensen looked up 

and the second he did, it seemed as though maison, who was on his lap, also realised and the next thing heard made everyone coo and teary-eyed. 

"'ILA" maison just screams from the top of her lungs, not quite remembering the 'm' of her sisters name as she effortlessly slides off of uncle jensen's lap 

with all the speed of her little legs, maison runs down the middle aisle of the convention room where mila had run as well, meeting the little girl halfway before sweeping her off her feet and giving her the biggest cuddle ever. 

 that entire interaction, between his eldest and youngest sister, made west realise who it was and it was actually mila. the older sister he was just moments ago talking about in high regard was actually home. this was when west slid off his chair, his two chubby little hands placing the microphone down on his seat calmly. he then rushed off the stage running to reunite with his older sister. 

"mila!" west squeaked out, the crowd once again cooing at the interaction as phones were out taking photos and videos of the entire thing

"hey my little man! how are my two little babies going?" mila strongly held both maison and west in her arms as maison was now crying happy years 

and, maybe tears of exhaustion as well as she rested in a curled up ball whereas west was picked up with his legs dangling to the floor but still with a tight grip around his two sisters. 

"missed you 'ila!" maison whimpered out as mila's heart swirled as she chuckled and hugged the little one tighter as west was pumped up with excitement about this reunion 

"i was just talking about you, mila!" west squealed as he played around with the dog tag that mila wore around her neck as she giggled at her younger brother

"oh, really, were you now westy?" mila pretends to be shocked which made the little boy giggle as he nodded his head 

"uh-huh!" west nodded his head as he was then placed down to the ground by mila as it was very obvious that maison needed a lot more time with the older girl than west did

west then led his two sisters back to the stage as the crowd had since been applauding the reunion. westy claiming his seat and microphone back as jared and jensen then stood up to give their eldest niece a hug. since the start of the reunion, emotions heightened as jared wiped away a tear as did jensen though his eyes were mostly just welling up. 

"hey, mila!" jensen spoke first, pulling his eldest niece in his arms for a hug whilst trying their best to not squish maison who was still a little teary and exhausted in her older sisters arms

"hey uncle jensen!" mila spoke softly as she pulled out of the hug before getting pulled into another hug by her other uncle, jared 

the two didn't even hesitate to hug one another as tightly as they could whilst still being careful of little maison. jared wiped away a few more tears, only caring about the fact that his sweet niece was home.  

"hey, sweet girl!" jared whispered as he gave a sweet kiss to the girl's forehead as he physically relaxed

"hey uncle jared!" mila giggled as she was so excited for her uncle jared hug after nearly four years of not being able to come home

not able to come home for birthdays, grievances, public holidays, halloween, thanksgiving, christmas, new years, etc.  after all the emotional chick-flick moments, jared lovingly gave his nieces his seat to sit on, grabbing another seat for himself. all so mila and a sleepy maison could be included back into the panel for a couple of questions. but, that was before it was ratted out by westy that the next person to be surprised by mila was going to be daddy. 

"mila is gonna surprise daddy, next!" west all of a sudden rats out as mila opens her mouth, her hand covering it as maison slowly statrted to uncurl herself again to the convention panel 

"how did you know, westy?" mila pretended which made her siblings giggle, westy bringing the microphone back up to his mouth again 

"uncle rob and uncle rich are filming this..." he said simply, pointing out to the back of the room where, in fact, uncle rob and uncle rich were filming with big smiles of their faces 

the both of waving to the audience who had turned around in shock to hear that r2 had been there the whole time of mila's surprise. after more giggles and all of the sort, it was time for mila to surprise her dad who was on the panel right after jared and jensen's. meaning, she suddenly had to rush off to the green room where vicki had since moved back to so the audience that paid for misha's panel could walk in and also so dad wouldn't suspect a thing. 

five minutes later and mila could hear her dad's voice. meaning that it was time for rich, rob and mila to once again, go to the door so she could walk through the audience to surprise her dad. 

"...okay so, once again, we're whispering because my dad is just in this room, right behind this door so, i'm going a little bit crazy right now. it's been four years nearly since i last got to hug my dad so, i'm really scared. i'm shaking and, knowing dad, he's most likely going to start crying which will then most likely set me off into tears so, be prepared!" mila whispered as she giggled as rob and rich nodded their heads - it was operation go! 

one of the security guys, since cliff was busy, opened the door and once it was made aware to mila that misha was distracted, she walked right in and just stayed in the back. she then noticed the rest of the cast that was at the convention were off to the side to watch this dad/daughter reunion. mila giving all of them a wave, smile and a kiss, she just waited for the exact right moment to surprise her dad. suddenly, she felt her hand being tugged at. westy and maison had joined their older sister. she had an idea but then decided against it since she just wanted to see how long it took for misha to realise his eldest daughter was just standing right in front of him. 

after being told by their sister to, maison and west walked over to uncle rob and uncle rich who stood a little bit behind mila as she moved forward slightly to see if the audience louder reaction would get misha to look up and out into the middle of the aisle. 

it wasn't until five minutes later when misha heard the louder cheers of the fans trying to get his attention that he finally noticed. his eldest daughter was standing right in front of him. only a couple of meters away and he just froze. 

his eyes widened and he stood up from his seat, his limp hand dropping his microphone, only just making it to the seat. he jumped off the stage and jogged over to his daughter. tears welled in both misha and mila's eyes as after almost four whole years, they were reuniting again. once misha finally reached his daughter, he picked her up and held her as tightly as he was able to. 

"mila! what...what are you doing here?" misha cried as quietly as he could as he pulled out of the hug 

"my commander said four years was more than enough and it was time i got to come home and be a twenty-one-year-old. and to finally spend a birthday home after four years," she whispered as misha's heart grew as he pulled her back in for a tighter hug as the audience just applauded or watched on silently 

"oh, my darling! i am so glad you're home and safe!" misha didn't want to let go until he felt like he had to so he could get a proper look at his military medic girl

"lemme look at ya," misha whispered as the duo pulled away again 

mila taking off her hat to reveal her long luscious locks that had stayed the same but, maybe grew an inch or two as she let her dad examine her face. realising that, just like she promised, she was fine and she didn't get hurt once whilst saving other people's lives. 

"just like you promised..." misha whispered as he touched mila's cheeks making the crowd coo as she nodded her head, her hands grabbing her dad's wrists as he bowed his head and cried a little more 

"...just like i promised!" mila smiled as she pulled her dad in for a hug which also meant that, obviously, westy and maison could finally join now that daddy and mila had their moment 

it was silent for a little bit whilst in the hug before mila felt as though she had to say this to her dad. just in case he forgot over the four years she had been gone. 

"i'm always daddy's little girl," 

let's just say that, that statement made misha cry way more than it should have. mila's four-year deployment had really taken its toll on misha. so, now that his little girl was finally home for good, he no longer had to worry. she was always not too far away anymore. 

- - - 

i loved this chapter so much, i've had the idea for a while and, bear in mind, i still have my acrylics from my boyfriend's graduation so, it is very hard to type properly so, apologies. 

ily xx

word count; 2725

[alittlebirb]

Some marvels and mischief from the MCC 22 Lime Llamas!

-Scott relating his day about how he went to the movies with friends, ordered Shake Shack and brought friends which he now has hanging around the house, and heard that Twitter was on fire which he didn't see because he doesn't use Twitter much anymore!

"It was a busy hectic day on the one day I can't be having a busy hectic day."

-"You looking forward to MeltDown? I'm having a meltdown." -Scott

-Scott accounting for all of the missing players like they're sheep he has to corral into place

-"Happy Birthday, you're old now." -Scott to Quig

-Jimmy asking who did the skins and Scott immediately roasting him about the fact that it is literally in the Discord

"But you're right, Jimmy, I don't have enough on my plate today." -Scott

-New MCC Lore: every single NoxCrew member is actually Scott in disguise! Turns out he coded and designed every single game himself!

-Jimmy's chat sending F's and well wishes the moment they hear Scott speak

"You sound slightly poorly." -Jimmy

-Quig mentioning he's the only American and Scott immediately leaping on him and saying well guess what? Pearl's the only Aussie!

"You're not special Quig! There are other minorities here! The only thing you have is that it's your birthday today!" -Scott

-Jimmy asking if they can please have party hats too because they're on Quig's team

-Wilbur looking at their screenie poses and roasting them in the chat

-"I will warn you now, I have not streamed in weeks now, so I think I have a lot of pent up sass that is inevitably going to come out tonight. I didn't realize until I joined the call and read Quig to filth already, and it's his birthday." -Scott

"You did also get Jimmy to be fair." -Quig

"Yeah but Jimmy's easy to get. Have you seen him?" -Scott

"Wait what?" -Jimmy

-Jimmy mentioning the joke "A Scotman, an Aussie, an American, and a Brit walk into a bar", and Quig pointing out that he's part Scottish!

"But then the joke would have to be "An American, an Aussie, an Englishman, and gay man walk into a bar", and that just feels homophobic." -Scott

-Everyone recommending Quig get "a nice steak" for his birthday dinner, causing him to feel he kind of has to now...

-"Where is Joel? I need to slap him." -Jimmy

-"There's Scar! Look at his lil shirt and abs! Why does Scar always have abs???" -Jimmy

-OwengeJuice coming into Scott's room to refill his water bottle and Scott calling him "a good egg"

-Scott listing how every single one of their team is workin at a disadvantage this MCC and Quig pointing out that this does not sound like the God Team he was promised

"See the problem is that Twitter already hates me, so if we do win I will be called several slurs." -Scott, who is taking no prisoners today

-"Scott actually hates everyone!" -Quig

"You're right, it's a quality if I hate everybody!" -Scott

-Scott trying to kill Pearl and Jimmy's PG streams

"If I win I get one victory swear, and Quig gets one birthday swear." -Scott

-Red being the first team to die in MD?? Proof Scott is colorblind-phobic not clickbait????

-Quig's grandpa calling him during MD and him having to ignore it

"Give it a sec, Gramps!" -Jimmy

-Lime winning the last round of MD with no one dying!

-"It's lime for us! If we break it we win!" -Scott about the elevator

-"25 players to break it, we actually need 26 because Joel's here! He's too small!" -Jimmy

-Pearl's name being shortened to Pearlescentmoo, transforming her into her alt account

-Jimmy having to go to the bathroom already

"Didn't you go before the event started?" -Pearl

"I did! My bladder is...something else." -Jimmy

-Yellow coming up in PKT and Scott asking Pearl if she wants to "hunt the other females".

-Jimmy's stream just dying in the middle of PKT

-Pearl recognizing her fellow hermits in Aqua

"That's the rule. Hermit on hermit crime is not allowed." -Scott

-Jimmy getting tagged by Pete and saying "he had long arms there! HUGE arms!"

-Pearl going on a little quest with Scott to find his cat in the hub

-Scott suggesting they talk about their teammates behind their back and Pearl immediately taking that as a chance to insult both of them

-Pearl somehow killing someone 10 seconds into RSR and apologizing

"Pearl's actually a master murderer in this game." -Scott

-Quig accidentally hitting stuff on his desk while playing

-Jimmy and Scott breaking out into impromptu High School Musical karaoke while flying

-Pearl getting another kill and then immediately dropping into the void right afterward

-Everyone getting confused at Dream being blue, and Jimmy calling him a "blue block."

"Dream blue arc?" -Scott

"I don't like it, I don't like change!" -Jimmy

-Everyone encouraging Pearl to wiggle the cable or get her cats to play with it in HITW

-"Achievement earned: not colorblind!" -Scott

-Pearl getting offended that Quig expects the Aussie to swear and her and Scott entering into a discussion about how the c-word is Joel's favorite but they both hate it

"You're talking about cool, right?" -Jimmy

"We're talking about Charisma, Uniqueness, Nerve, and Talent." -Scott

-"You know, I'm taking off the sunglasses, this is serious now." -Quig

"Don't look at him, I hate Quig's face without sunglasses." -Scott (in a video game)

-"I don't like walls. Normally I'm a fan of the hole part, but this time it failed me." -Scott

-Quig calling back his grandpa during the break

-Pearl singing a little song while everyone else is muted during break

-Scott being shocked at Pearl having never had a good BM round and calling himself "a BuildMart connoisseur".

-Scott calling his cat "a chonk of fluff".

-Pearl having to rush into the middle of the hub as the timer counted down in order to get a coconut smoothie from Scott, and then the both of them being jump scared by Quig's non-sunglasses face

-Quig psychologically analyzing the tendency to go left in Minecraft and concluding it's because of players' left brains

-Quig saying of course Pearl isn't getting confused in reverse AR, Australians are already playing it upside down!

-"I beat Grian, it's fine." -Jimmy

-Everyone agreeing that the hub needs music in between rounds

-"You can't blame everything on being Australian!" -Quig to Pearl during BB

"I didn't make you the girlboss to my gatekeep for you to talk down about yourself. If only Cleo was here, she could gaslight you into a positive attitude. I'm gatekeeping that negative talk." -Scott

"My chat is full of Pearl believers." -Quig

-Pearl seeing Oli's message that he's going to ruin Quig's birthday and going :(

"Quig, don't let Oli ruin your birthday!"

-Quig responding with in chat

-Quig saying they're still "dodgeboltable" and everyone else repeating it until it's just a string of unintelligible sounds

-Quig calling Pearl 'Gem' and Scott immediately roasting him

"Wooow, you just see girl gamer and put them together, wow, Quig." -Scott

-Scott telling Jimmy to say SAND DADDY with his whole chest in SOT

-Everyone shouting out Hbomb before they start, and Jimmy mentioning how Grian informed him that Hbomb's vod review of his perspective last MCC was absolutely "excruciating"

-Quig telling Scott "I'll do you proud Sand Daddy!" and Scott responding "I'm proud of you son."

-Quig asking chat if he's dumb while getting lost in the tunnel and Scott saying "well...let's not answer that."

-Scott fighting with Tubbo so much in the dms that they both get kicked for spam

-One of Pearl's mods sending out a message in the chat apologizing for Scott's language

"I'll go into Disney mode. Crud! Crikey! Shiitake mushrooms! If it works for Spy Kids it works for you!" -Scott

-"See, this is why we let chickens decide the games! We don't get beaten by democracy!" -Scott

"Yeah, I hate democracy!" -Quig

-RIP the community builds

-Scott bearing witness to the tragedy of Scar getting thrown off in TGTTOS

-Quig being the last on Lime to hit an NPC and Scott telling him "don't blame me for your subpar parkour before the end!"

"It was the swimming! I'm a bad swimmer, man." -Quig

-Scott has decreed that Blue is being benched for the next MCC /j

"There's toxic and then there's this." -Scott

-"Imagine if he doesn't win this, Oli. We'll never hear the end of it. He's been hounding Scott for ages for a team to get him the win." -Jimmy

-All of Scott's friends coming into his room to watch Dodgebolt, carrying Christmas glasses

-"He's not gonna break the curse if he's shooting shots like that!" -Jimmy about Sparklez

-"Dream's just playing with his food." -Quig

-Scott yelling "WE SAW IT LIVE" about the Captain win, Pearl agreeing it was "bout time", and Quig being satisfied with the fact that Sparklez won on his birthday

-Lime Llamas ended MCC 22 in 3rd place!

[dienamights]

Ex’s and O’s | K.Bakugou

» Pairing: Katsuki Bakugou x Fem!Reader.

» Word count: 6.7K

» Genre: hurt/comfort, Smut MDNI, Prohero!au

» Summary: Its bad enough that you’re spending your ex-boyfriend’s birthday curled up in bed, wearing his merch, drinking away your sorrows, but what’s even worse is having your eardrums pierced by the blaring music upstairs at the party thrown just for him.

» Warning(s):  Smut 18+ MDNI please, hurt/comfort, mentions of alcohol, dubcon since reader is under the influence while getting dicked down, drunk sex, oral sex and fingering (female receiving, we getting fed tonight), one pussy slap lol, manipulation, unprotected sex (don’t be silly, wrap your willy)

» Author’s notes: Hello! aaaah I’m actually pretty excited about posting this fic! First of all, its Bakuhoe’s birthday! and what better way to honor it than to feed you all some good ol angst sprinkled in with some good dickin’ down. Its been years since I’ve written smut and I’m actually really fuckin proud of it, yet real nervous but I hope you enjoy! Secondly, this fic is a part of Bakugous Birthday Bash! I’m so excited to read everyone’s work, thank you everyone for holding this event and allowing my ass participate to create this with you all ♡ be sure to read everyone’s contributions, I know it’ll be more than amazing since everyone worked so hard!

Happy Birthday to our favorite King Explosion Murder♡♡

Lastly, I wanna thank everyone for their support and helping me reach 200 followers already! You guys are the cutest thing ever and I promise I’ll update more frequent the minute I’m out of uni late june fml, thank you @tteokdoroki for giggling with me when i wrote cock for the first time lol

» Masterlist | Requests

Rolling out of bed and flailing onto the floor as a start of your day ensures you that the following 24 hours will ultimately suck ass. Getting up and readying yourself for the day by looking through one of your cardboard boxes for your favorite Dynamight hoodie, the back of your mind keeps nagging you, trying to remind you of something buried deep in your subconsciousness, and you have half a heart to try and remember, because for some odd reason, you feel so fucking weary, as if the few steps from your bed to your bathroom are somehow now endless miles, almost making you breathe out in relief after finally reaching it.

And as you are making your coffee, that odd feeling keeps annoying you again, prodding at your brain to remember something, something. And ultimately, that's when your eyes fall to the counter. You knew this day was coming and you were dreading it for months, so as you look at the calendar on your kitchen counter, you frown, the quote of the day you always love reading so much long forgotten when your eyes fall on the date. 

“You’ve gotta be kiddin' me.” You mumble at the calendar on your counter hatefully with furrowed eyebrows, as if it would either reply or change its date, it doesn’t do either, and your lips curl downwards even further. As in immediate response, you pick up your phone, your coffee pot tossed aside as you dial the number of the only person you could think might help you right now.

“G’morning y/n -” you hear Kendo’s voice through your phone, and you honestly want to sob right then and there, but you hold yourself, barely and speak over her overly cheery voice first thing in the goddamn morning. “It's Kats- Bakugou’s birthday” you whimper at the slip up, being so used to the first name basis you were in with your now ex-boyfriend.

“Yeah, was kinda hoping you would’ve forgotten.” She sighs, tugging at her bangs and pulling back her phone to check the time. “Tell you what, I get off work in an hour, then I’m spending the day with you. I’ll get tequila, I know you love your shots.” 

“Ken, it's like 10 right now..” you can’t help but pout, having alcohol in your system as an escape to help you forget about the entire day still sounding better than the urge to cry and crawl into a hole, even if it's at the start of your day. “Y'know what? Get those gummy worms I like too.” “Bet.” you hang up with a sigh, moving back to the kitchen to sift through your bubble wrapped kitchen utensils, barely forcing yourself to prepare breakfast as to not have your liquor on an empty stomach.

You loathe the fact that you remembered his birthday, always reminded of him no matter how long ago since you’ve last seen him, being the center of the media’s attention for years as the number 6 hero in japan has its perks, well, in his case, but to you? Nothing but trouble and heartache as every channel you flip through plasters his face, whether it be about some big rescue mission he partook in or a new rumor about a potential lover to the explosive hero, followed by him almost attacking a reporter, yelling to them about ‘needing to mind yer goddamn business and keep my fuckin’ name outta your mouths’. Therefore, you opted long ago to stay away from the TV to avoid seeing him, his captivating rubies for eyes, covered by that goddamn mask you like to push up to his forehead, sweeping his bangs away and exposing his sweaty forehead that he bumps against yours as he makes love to you, still in his hero costume, all battered and dusty and so incredibly hot you have to- 

You grip your coffee mug tighter, almost to the point of breaking the handle off of it, placing it rather roughly onto the table before pushing your food away, appetite gone with the thought of whatever paradise you were thinking you were in before now long gone and never coming back, all because of you, of your action, of your mistake.

Kendo walks in with a bright smile on her face, as if her overly cheerful attitude will balance out the void you’re slowly but surely falling in. She shakes the bag of snacks in your face as you blink your eyes back into focus. Dragging your heavy feet across the floor to get to your kitchen to retrieve the shot glasses. Only kissing her cheek in thanks when you snatch away whatever it is she brought with her to lift your mood.

She eyes the boxes by your kitchen, the four placed haphazardly in your living room and the one you're using as a stool while filling your shot glasses, tongue sticking out to try and fill each one to the brim without spilling any on the new coffee table that she failed to notice before is still wrapped in bubble wrap that prevent any damage during the moving process.

“y/n…” you hum in response, a frown falling on your lips as the third glass spills a bit and the liquid pools on the plastic.

“Don't you think that you should’ve probably unpacked a while ago? Hasn't it been, what, five months?” 

“I didn't know you were gonna come here to harass me about my life choices, Kendo”

She flinches away, your tone venomous, almost feeling it as a slap to her face, before leaning in when she sees your eyes start to water.

“If I did, that just means it's true… that just means it happened, and I did the stupidest thing- you know what,” you wipe the few tears that managed to escape away with the sleeve of your sweater, looking down at the shots in front of you. “It, it doesn't matter anymore just- can I just drink and try to forget about how my life has gotten nothing but fucking worse since the day I left him?”

You questioned your worth that one time, that one time all those months ago. Thinking that by doing what you did and leaving, he’d drop everything and run behind you, chase after you and win you back, but he didn't, and as you sit surrounded by the evidence of how much of a failure you find out you are without him, you regret ever questioning it, ever questioning him. Because to you, living in denial was so much better than whatever hell this is.

So all you could think of is to just drown yourself in alcohol until your mind is too numb to think of the possibilities of how you could have avoided this, how you could’ve been a less of shitty person, and stop imagining how your life would be now if you just swallowed all your insecurities and just stayed. Despite the neglect, despite not being prioritized, because in some weird twisted way, those lies held you with warmth that you were never able to find after uncovering the ugly truth you’re living in right now. 

You lay on your living room floor, the alcohol swirling in your system and clouding your vision as you trace imaginary shapes in your ceiling, the voice of Kendo muffled as she rambles on and on about her day, the amount of outlaws she bitch slapped - a term she uses to get a laugh from you - and how she considers herself the unluckiest being in the whole world for having Monoma as a partner of all people, seriously contemplating who she should beat up first between him and the villains.

“Must be nice,” you voice, low and slow, scared of how Kendo would react to what you’re about to say, yet your intoxicated self unable to stop your mouth from uttering the words. “To have a purpose in life, to not be quirkless and lost like us.” your face twists in an ugly scowl at your ceiling, but mostly to yourself for putting a downer on whatever mood your friend is trying so hard to build, proven by the hitch of her breath before she enters your peripheral vision when she leans over you, all upside down and pouty.

“What’re you talki-” the shrill ringtone of her phone breaks you away from each other as she leaps to fetch it and silence the god forsaken thing by answering the call. “Battle Fist here, yes sir, I was partnered up with Phantom Thief for the patrol at area B, n-no sir I wasn’t informed.” Kendo breaths out in irritation, pinching the bridge of her nose as she starts tapping her feet aggressively on the floor, eyes falling onto yours when you look up at her all weary and sad, knowing what she would tell you once she hangs up. “That dumbass is gonna be the end of me I swear.” She crouches down to your level and kisses your forehead, promising to be back in the morning with hangover food, before she leaves and locks the door behind her. 

Now you’re left all alone, back aching from laying on the hardwood floor and eyes watering as you feel your loneliness eating you up inside, the god awful music thumbing loudly in your ears followed by the cheer of people as you-

Music?

You sit up abruptly, groaning at the dizziness of the swift movement as your hands fly to cover your ears, a failed attempt of ensuring your brain doesn’t begin to spill out from them, because of the loud voices, the bass shaking your entire fucking apartment by how strong it is, and you curse yourself for falling for the scheme the landlord pulled you in, paying half of the rent everyone did, just because you lived right below the penthouse that hosted the loudest parties in the area, 4 days out of the fucking week. 

The money hungry shameless bastard praised the apartment the minute it spiked your interest all those months ago, selling it so well you actually moved in the next week, anything to stop feeling like a burden to Kendo as you couch-surfed her apartment. Only to realize within that first week from your downstairs neighbors that he rents the penthouse to host parties of all sorts, and due to its location in the city, it was pretty popular, yet you didn’t have the money to move out again, nor the heart to concern your friend with your problems, as she was a hero with other responsibilities aside from taking care of your hopeless self.

So you get up, barely gathering yourself onto that elevator to tell off whoever the fuck will answer the door first to turn the music down. You pound the door with your fist repeatedly the minute you reach it, the door opening so suddenly you almost punch the man standing in front of you in the chest, the cool air created from the door cooling your warm cheeks as you squint at your victim for the day.

“Welcome!”

“Listen here, you buttfaced moron” you start to chew the person’s ear out, your sight blurring yet still able to notice how bright his hair is, how fiery and familiar it looks, and you’re certain you’ve seen it somewhere before. “I’m trying to drink away my regrettable life choices and cry over my ex-boyfriend, so if you would just turn down the-”

“y/n?” oh, that’s where. Your stomach drops as Kirishima looks down on you, the bright smile he flashed to whoever he was welcoming now dropped with his eyes almost bulging out at your presence, you both stand in silence, the boy unbuttoning the collar that suddenly feels like it has a chokehold on him while you cross your arms and hope the floor would swallow you a floor down back into the comfort of your home.

Kirishima basically is shutting down the second his eyes lay on you, breaking a sweat as your eyes never waver, despite how you fail to stay standing straight, what was he supposed to say? ‘Hey we’re throwing a birthday party for your ex-boyfriend because he's been feeling depressed from the day you dumped his ass’ ? No!  He wouldn’t do that to his friend, but what was he gonna say now?

Well, he didn’t have to really think about what to say to you, because his other friend didn’t hesitate to push him forward, slurring something along the lines of ‘lettin the hot ladies in so they can take a look at the prettier blond, aka moi’. In his moment of panic, the redhead stumbles forward, his cup slipping from the tips of his fingers and meeting its doom by the floor, whatever was filling it now staining your pants as you both look at the mess between you.

“Woah bro, we said you gotta get’er wet but not- '' Denki's cackle stops him from continuing whatever filth he was gonna spew out - thankfully - before his eyes drop down to your chest, or more like what was covering it. “Hey! You a Dynamight fan? Hey Bakuhoe, comere for a sec.” 

Dear God, move, for the love of all that's pure in this god forsaken world, move! Run!

All you could do is shake and breathe in short segments as your widened eyes meet his unamused ones, the garnets in his eyes glistening at your sight, he stands straight and so tall, suited up in his usual attire. Dressed for the occasion, words aren't able to describe his beauty. You try not to let your brain be dazzled by how incredibly handsome he looks. He is wearing a dress shirt, in the deep color of wine that complements his eyes, dress pants hugging his long legs, not to mention the open collar, and no tie. He looks like a long, lean Lothario. 

At that your eyes drop down to the floor, specifically the now stained carpet, your hands wrenching the end of your hoodie to distract yourself from the piercing rubies that haunts your dreams.

You build up some courage, enough of it to lift your head to continue what you came here to do, so you open your mouth, and drop a few IQs while you’re at it. “The m-music is loud and m’tryin’ to sleep,'' you mumble, noting how Kirishima leans down to make up the words you are saying over the sound of the blaring music while Bakugou narrows his eyes at you as if disregarding his sight will make him hear you better. “So, if you could turn down the heat, that’d be,” 

“You squiffed?” The blond grunts, leaning his face close to yours to inspect it, and he catches a whiff of alcohol in your breath, his eyebrows furrowing at your response. “No I'm not squinting-” 

“Yeah you’re drunk alright,” he huffs at your less than intelligent reply, pushing his glass of whiskey - you figure since it's always been his drink of choice - against Kirishima’s chest, telling him to lower the fucking volume and grabs you by your bicep. “C’mon, I’ll take you home.” you stumble at the force used against you, no matter how weak it actually is, before you barely straighten yourself to push his hand away. “I can walk down all by myself, thank you.” Of course you’d expose where you live, you dumbass.

He doesn’t question your integrity, just continues to basically drag you to the elevator before pushing your apartment door open when you choose your floor, irked to find your misplaced trust in the people of the complex by not locking your door after leaving. He barges into your bedroom and tells you to change out of your fucked up pants and proceeds to saunter to your kitchen to get you water, eyeing the boxes that he comes across during that small trip.

He stands awkwardly by the door when he sees you standing in the middle of the bedroom, sifting through countless moving boxes with your pants on the floor, thrown next to a pile of clothes that he can only assume that its supposed to be your laundry ‘basket’, until you opt against wearing any since you can't seem to find anything to replace them. And when he asks you if you just moved in, his expression sours when you shake your head no and explain to him that you’ve been living for months in this space, after chugging that cup of water like you’ve been parched for days.

“Birthday party?” You ask out of the blue as you play with the strings of your hoodie, your ears perking up at the confirmation hum you receive. “Hmm, thas’cool… I-I guess.” 

Bakugou’s impassive as he gently pushes you onto your bed, eyes meeting yours as he covers you up with your blanket. “Get some rest, I’m leaving.” He said, slowly stalking away from you and barely reaching your door as your big mouth talks on its own. Your body sitting up and facing his retreating back.

“That's what you always do, you always leave”, you utter and you see him stiffen his shoulders before he spins to face you, so fast you almost want to check up on him about getting a whiplash.

“Hah?” it's one syllable, but it shakes your very core, that one sound making you almost shake, overwhelmed by the amount of emotions, the amount of pain that one sound has. He steps closer to your bed, the stomps of his feet sounding like gun shots in your ear, and you pathetically lift up the blanket to cover yourself up, cowering behind it like it's some pseudo shield that might protect you from him.

“I’m the one that leaves?” he growls at you, his eyes sizing you up when you react to his forceful approach, leaning back to look down on you, but his lips are still curled in a frown, he tries to hold himself from blowing up at you, his feelings oddly enough still raw in his chest the moment he lay eyes on you the first time since you left, threw him away and walked away, probably finding someone better, probably finding someone who you tolerated, unlike himself, but when he sees you straighten up your back to rebuttal him, an automatic response to whenever he raised his voice at you from all those years ago, he knows he is in for a fight. 

He snarls when you nod at him, your eyes hard and glaring up at him, not knowing that your silence is by your better judgement since you don't trust your voice, knowing it’ll fail you, probably crack and show him how much he actually is affecting you by his closed off posture and demeaning look down at your frame.

“Real fuckin’ rich of ya, y/n.” He snaps back, his hands brought up to his hair, tugging at it. “As if you didn’t pack your shit,” he kicks at yet another cardboard box fucking spewed in your room, noting its heavy weight when it didn't move but an inch by his action. “Dropped your keys by the fuckin’ door,” as an emphasis, he throws your apartment key at you, making sure it doesn’t actually hit you, but falls onto your lap. “And left. Without a single fuckin’ word, like I'm some lowlife who didn't deserve an explanation, like I didn't deserve anything! And-” that hurt, goddamn it. 

Exhaling deeply, he focuses on how your eyes look a little less glossed over, a little more sober, but holding fear, and he almost steps back and out when he looks at how you’re fighting tears, almost wanting to bust his own kneecaps than to see you like this, always wanting nothing for you but to be happy, to never upset about anything no matter how small it might be.

Then why did you leave him? Left him to drown by his lonesome self, waves of his insecurities and sorrow crashing into him, pulling him even further down to his inevitable doom.

Despite the fact that you both yearn for each other, long to feel one another, engulf yourselves in the others presence. You both stand your ground, eyes glaring despite the emotions hidden behind them, mouths shut and curled into ugly scowls regardless of the words you wish to speak to each other, whispers of promises into each other's ears about being together forever, in spite of not knowing what the future holds.

Bakugou breathes out again, recalling all those months worth of coping mechanisms to exercise when placed in anger inducing situations like this one, the time in therapy spent to better himself, to control himself, to be the best version of himself, for you, hoping that one day you’ll pity him enough to want to come back, knowing full well he would never hold a grudge against you and welcome you back with open arms, intending to never repeat whatever it is he did that made you think of him as so unbearable you couldn't spent another day with him.

You on the other hand, are barely holding in the tears, wanting him to just leave your sight, so you can go back to the world of denial where he didn't look like straight out of a magazine, looking as captivating as always, as if your absence did not have an effect on the hero, of course it wouldn't, why would a quirkless extra have an effect on the great Katsuki Bakugou, that's what he used to call them, right?

“Just leave, Bakugou-” his ears pick up the way your voice breaks at his name, the way you utter it sounds so horrendous, because you aren’t meant to call him Bakugou, you’re meant to call him Katsuki, Katsu, Suki, your Suki. Not- “I hate you.”

The room suddenly spirals. The floor panels misalign themselves into zigzags. Bakugo’s eyes shatter like a glass window. He tries to hold himself against the tears that threaten to fall, stomach wrenching as if reaching from inside of his body, but it’s useless. He brings his hand up close to his chest and sinks his head, letting the words overtake him.

Oblivious to his internal struggle, you pile whatever courage you have left in another attempt to ask him to leave, aware that your body wouldn’t aid you in pushing him away physically, you open your mouth, only to gasp after a moment of silence when he pounces on you and grabs you by the neck, sliding a hand behind your head and leaning your face impossibly closer to his “you fuckin’ hate me? show me you hate me then,”

Then he's pressing his lips against yours, your half foggy mind all too surprised by the flow of motion you can only try to keep up with his feverish kisses, you try to pull away, to push him away, to no avail, Bakugou only stopping his assault on your lips to growl at them again “Show me then, hah?” 

But he wouldn't even let you, his grasp on your neck loosening to circle around your back to push you to him even more. His kisses get more and more aggressive, trying his best to show you how much he was hurt by what you said, by what you did, after all this time, almost begging you to not let him have to voice out whatever he’s feeling because he would do so much of a worse job than he is doing now.

The hands you placed on his chest in a failed attempt to push him away are now just placed over his pecs, welcoming their warmth and the way they flex under your touch, your right hand clenching over where his thumping heart is, and he almost sighs in relief, the movement feeling like it holds together all the broken pieces of his heart to make it whole again.

Almost like that gesture calmed him down, Bakugou’s rough touches start to soften, very caring as they glide to your hips before sliding underneath your - oh my God it's your special edition Dynamight hoodie! His amused chuckle tickles your lips as he pulls away when he feels you stiffen at the realization, barely letting you breathe in ease until he places his lips against your ear. “Love how m’still the only one sprawled over yer tits.”

“But I still want the real thing, lemme see ‘em, hm?” And just before throwing a dumb retort and embarrasing yourself even further, the article is tugged eagerly off of your body and thrown haphazardly on the floor. Earning yourself a low whistle when he realises you’re wearing nothing underneath. Bakugou all but shoves you onto the bed, spreading your legs when you try to rub them against each other for any friction, wedging his body neatly between them as his teeth gently bite your soft buds, pulling them slightly before captivating the nipple entirely.

His tongue flicks against your hardening nipple while keeping a watchful eye at the sinful expressions your face makes, his one hand toying with and twisting the other nipple while the other slides down to tease your needy cunt, pressing his fingers against your -fucking soaked- panties, swearing under his breath at the feeling of your walls trying to clench around his fingers just from that one movement. Sitting on his haunches, he lifts your hips with ease to pull your panties right off, eyes travelling between your heaving chest and your exposed pussy. Before lowering himself and finding comfort in biting and sucking your nipples again.

Bakugou’s smirk grows with your moans as his tongue dances over your sensitive nipples, he presses his finger against your walls, and you immediately keen at the prodding feeling that almost feels foreign after all this time apart. His thumb pushing your pussy lip to the side to see you suck his finger in like the good girl he knew you always were.

“Ba-ba-ba,” you struggle to talk, your drool collecting at your lips, stopping you from forming any words as you feel a breeze hit your spit covered tits, whining at the feeling and wanting him to pull your nipples in the warm cavern of his mouth again. Bakugou’s eyes focus on the spit line connecting his bottom lip to your nipple before disconnecting it to smash his lips against yours in an effort to shut your blabbering up.

“Ba-ba, what? y’better not be callin’ me Bakugou with my fingers deep in yer pussy baby, its Katsuki for you, yeah?” he taunts with a fake pout that immediately turns into a grin at the way you hold your pathetic sobs, pressing another finger in your tight cunt, reveling in the wet sounds your pussy makes as he thrusts his fingers in and out of it, soaking his fingers in your slick as he curls them, eager to hear the squelching sounds it would make when his cock is shoved deep inside you. “Or better yet, lemme hear you say Suki, hmm?”

“Suki- p-please, eat me out” you throw your head back and bring your hands down to play with your clit, showing him where you want his lips to be, as if the blond doesn't already know where it is, and he scoffs at the thought, slapping your hand away and giving another slap to your clit, earning a moan from you from the sharp pleasurable pain.

“Yea, yea I fuckin’ know already, needy slut,” he growls, keeping eye contact as he circles your clit with his tongue before sloppily eating out your cunt, making a mess of both drool and your arousal, mumbling “my needy slut.” to himself, and you do hear it, yet you brush it off with the thought that your lust must be messing with your brain.

Your chest still flutters at his words and your walls clench in on his fingers as he curls them again in a way you didn’t know would make you yelp like it did. He thrives off of how your body responses so easily to him, your back arching and the squelching getting louder as his fingers pick up speed, his tongue so skillful in drawing circles around your clit before sucking it again. A whine escapes you when he draws his head away from you, only for you to see the way his eyes darkens, his chin glistening from your arousal when it catches the light.

“Let go for me princess,” he whispers uncharacteristically, making you question if the glint in his eyes is from his desire for you or something else. “Lemme see you fall apart for me, alright?” the way he’s almost begging you to come undone for him takes you by surprise, and your body curls in on itself so fast, not realizing your orgasm was creeping up on you until it hits you. The knot in your stomach breaks as you gush around his fingers, white crossing your vision as he slows his pace to help you come down from your high. 

Your shuddering body lays on your bed, eyes unwavering as they meet Katsuki’s, his fingers stuffed in his mouth as he moans around them at your taste. It's all a blur after seeing that unravel, and you’re so woozy that you don’t register him discarding his clothes until he lays above you. Placing himself between your legs as he pumps his cock, hardened from seeing you fall apart on his tongue and fingers, his tip leaking precum and burning a bright red.

His movement is almost too quick for you as he dips his head into your leaking hole before pulling right back, a breathless chuckle escaping him when you whine and roll your hips and try to suck him in again, wanting to feel the stretch of him inside of you.

“Didja wanna say somethin’ princess?” he taunts you, one of his hands holding you down by your stomach while the other is wrapped around his length, teasing you in the ways that he knows drive you crazy, he leans in, using the tip of his cock to spread your pussy lips open and running it along your slit to coat it with your arousal.

“Katshu, p-please I-” you hiccup, your fists tightening on your bed sheet as you try to rock your hips up get more than just his leaking tip, but your begging is always interrupted when he isn't hearing what he wants you to say.

“Say you love me.”

You freeze at his demand, your widening eyes looking up at him before you pout your lips, not thinking about surrendering to him, no matter how much you want your cunt stuffed full of him right now.

“I don’love yooou-” you gasp as katsuki’s grip onto your waist tightens and you feel as he gives a thrust into your sopping cunt, arching your back at the burning stretch of being filled up by his thick cock. Katsuki’s hand traces down your left thigh before cupping behind your knee, hiking your leg up and out, close to your chest to expose more of yourself to him, wanting nothing more than to see his dick seething in and out of your tight pretty pussy, and by almost muscle memory, you did the same thing with your right leg, replacing his hands with your own, presenting yourself to him.

“Y’see that? Fuckin’ know you like the back of m’hand, y’think someones gonna- ah, take the fucking time to work you like I did?” he's right, absolutely right, he ruined you for any other potential lovers and he loved it with every fiber in his being, knowing this means you’re always going to be wrapped around his finger. You moan as he pushes more of himself into you, bottoming out and holding one of your tits and squeezing when he feels your walls do the same to his cock.

You hate it, after all this time, you’re still a blubbering mess the second he was one fucking inch deep in your pussy, sucking him in and clawing at his back begging for more. No self respect, no dignity, you hate it, how come after all this time he gets to come here and fuck you like you belong to him, like you’ve belonged to him despite everything that has happened.

You only realize that your eyes are closed when Katsuki’s breath hits your face, and you open them wide, noting how wet your lashes have gotten from your tears, only for him to kiss at the tears gliding along your right temple and licking the ones on your left. He breathes out a chuckle and when he leans to look at your eyes, the humor and menace you expect to see in his eyes are nowhere to be found, clouded by a solemn look instead.

“What? Yer cryin on me now, huh? Y’think a few tears are stoppin’ me?” His voice is masked so well, because he sounds like he was simply enjoying a game, like an imp that had branched from a demon. “C’mon, not gonna tell the birthday boy you love’em?”

“I don't love you, I hate you, h-hate you-” you keen as drool pools at your lips, your body betraying you as it shakes from pleasure, letting go of your legs to wrap them around his slim waist, to bring him in closer, if that was even possible, stopping his deep thrusts that were brushing up against your cervix, it feels pathetic, denying him the pleasure of telling him you love him while clinging onto him like he's your last breath of fresh air, because in a way, you feel like he is, like him leaving would just collapse your lungs and stop your heart from beating, you know that he’s gonna leave you. While your spent body would lay on your bed and you'd cry because you didn't tell him you love him, yet you wouldn’t ask him to stay, knowing deep down that you don't deserve it, you don't deserve him.

You feel his weight on top of you as he rests his elbows by your head, his lips brushing against your ear as he repeats again with every shallow thrust into your warm insides, his cock twitching from time to time in your walls. “You love me.” he says it once, twice, thrice. Every time his voice lowers more and more to a broken whisper, almost a plea instead of the cocky taunt he started off with.

Your legs are starting to ache from the grip they have around him, so you loosen up, your mind easy since his thrusts haven’t been rough nor painful. And when you do, you notice two things immediately, first, your thighs are so soaked from how he's making you feel, probably ruining your bedsheet at this point, second, he pushed his chest away from yours to look you directly in the eyes, one hand molding around your thigh to keep it from wrapping around him again while the other is placed on your stomach, his thumb inching closer and closer to your clit, wanting to toy with it, toy with you, but not ready to give you any satisfaction until you admit to him, please just tell him, that you do still love him. All insecurities, all battle scars, all emotional constipation as layers he covers himself with, that no one gives a fuck to peel off, to see who he really was, except you.

His red eyes lock onto yours as your chest heaves with breathless sobs at the lost of his warmth, and when you think he's lowering himself back down, he pulls out suddenly, sending a  shiver down your spine as you gasp, now feeling like you're frozen over, your tears coming from lack of both pleasure and warmth.

Suddenly your face is met with the pillow and you feel his hands on your hips as he lifts them up and off the bed, your half intoxicated, half aroused mind barely registering that you’ve been flipped over on your stomach until you feel his cock prodding at your cunt, easily sliding in like they’ve been made to be warmed up in there, when you know Katsuki would argue that your pussy was made just for him and to warm his dick.

He presses his chest against your back, pushing you onto the bed as he thrusts his hips roughly, pulling out fully before seething himself right back in, your moans and whimpers muffled by your pillow from being pushed down by his hand as his other holds your hips firmly. 

Then what happened next probably shocked him more than you, despite how delirious you’ve become due to his relentless thrusting, his dripping tears feel cool on your bare warm shoulder, one by one as his groans and moans turn into strangled sobs, before Katsuki digs his teeth into that shoulder, to both hear you scream and to muffle his cries from you. 

“because I love you” he sobs, detaching his teeth from their grip and kissing the bite marks before resting his forehead against it, but his thrusts never cease, getting sloppier, as if the confession is pushing him off the edge. Dragging the tip of his nose from your bitten and bleeding shoulder to the back of your ear, his own face flush and warm against you as he breathes harshly against your ear and kisses along it.

“So-” he moans again, the hand behind your neck now turning your face so he could see your fucked out expression, the tears streaming down your face and the drool that pools under your cheeks, with your tongue lolled out and your eyes barely focusing on his form.

“You better say you do too, becau-”

“I love you.” you gush, like saying it is a breath of fresh air, your eyes never leaving his teary ones, your gaze so intense and fixated on him with no regards to the way the snapping of his hips against yours is shaking your entire body against the bed. 

With new found vigor from your confession, Katsuki grabs onto the meat of your ass, hammering into you from behind with force that pushes you against the bed even further, your pulled hair jerking your head back so he can listen to the lewd noises you are making, long forgotten the will to cover your pleasure and hiding your moans.

Your ass heavily slaps against his thighs as he grabs your hips with both hands and pounds into your sopping wet cunt, relishing in the way you’re begging for him. “Y’like it when I fuck you baby, hmm? Like it when I stuff you so fuckin’ full of me?” He growls, feeling you push your ass back every time you repeat ‘yes’ to his questions. “Yes, yes love it, love you, please please don’t stop, please ‘Suki. Yes, gonna cum ‘Suki please” you weep, your head pounding from the grip he had on your hair and your eyes crossing as you feel his thrusts stutter, getting sloppier when you bounce your ass against him, his hand coming down and slapping it.

“That's fuckin’ right, cum on this cock, c’mon baby” he brings four of his fingers to rub your clit with urgency, and you can’t help but arch your back as your orgasm hits you again, screeching as you feel your walls tightening on him, squeezing him for what he’s worth. “F-fuck ah, y-you’re so- Fuck” his heavy weight falls on you as he fills you to the brim with his milky seed, forehead pressed against your shoulder as he rocks his hips against you, pushing more of his load inside before slowly pulling out, gaze flutters down to where your bodies were once joined, seeing your mixed arousal seeping out of your hole and he has half a mind to push it back in with his fingers.

But he flips you over effortlessly, the sight of your crossed out eyes and wet cheeks squeezing his chest at the realization he might’ve been too rough on you, so he wipes your cheek with the palm of his hands and revels in the way you lean towards him, turning your face to kiss his palm. “Say it again.” barely a whisper, as you flip his hand and kiss the back of it as well, and he almost repeats himself, thinking you didn’t hear him, but your hands reach up and cup his face, bringing him towards you. “I love you Katsuki” and goddamn if that wasn’t the most beautiful thing you’ve ever spoken. “Again,” “I love you, Katsuki” “Again,” you giggle, and he knows that's probably what angels sound like.

Your thumb brushes over his warm cheeks, red from showing vulnerability, and you pull him even closer, “Happy birthday, ‘Suki.”

“Yea,” He breaths out, his lips barely brushing against your bitten and bruised ones. “It really fuckin’ is.”

aaaaaaaaah! Hope you enjoyed it! Lemme know what you think of the smut, I also changed my writing style from past tenses to present tenses or tried to at least

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Starman - Poe Dameron X Fem!Reader - Chapter 27: Go Your Own Way

GIF by nightofthecreeps

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Word count: 12.3k Warnings: fluff, mentions of canon-typical deaths and violence, alcohol consumption, driving under the influence (don't do that pls), swearing A/N: Phew! I'm finally caught up with everything! My tumblr and AO3 are now in sync and I can start publishing the updates on both platforms at the same time. Thank you all for your comments and likes and reblogs, and for the love you've given this fic. ♥

It turned out EVERYONE knew, now. Or everyone knew before, but somehow, they were allowed to talk about it. As Y/N got to her mission of the day, she didn't even make it past the hangar's door. She was doused in expired bacta by a hollering Mala, who high-fived Varun. "HAPPY BIRTHDAY, THUNDERBIRD!" ...She hated them. She was still drying her hair with a towel when Poe arrived, grinning from ear to ear. After everything that had happened recently, it was nice to see him carefree again. ...Besides, the Bacta wasn't that sticky. "Morning, squad. Y/N, is there a reason why you're so... wet?" "There are about fifty jokes in my mind right now, but I'll only say: fuck you, Dameron," she huffed. Mala burst out laughing. "Someone's feisty this morning! I have half a mind to tell you to drop and give me a hundred." "...Can I take a shower first?"

During their lunch break, she got a gift from the kitchen droid in the form of a second chocolate pudding. She smiled fondly at the memory as she nodded her thanks. Fortunately for her, the cafeteria was half empty when Klana started belting out a birthday song. She was quickly joined by Blue and Green Squadrons and a very amused Finn. Y/N was mortified. But all of her friends stood on the tables, singing their hearts out as she sat in the middle, giggling. It turned out Skylen was a brilliant singer and Poe... Not so much. Even BeeBee did his part, spinning around with his blowtorch to emulate fireworks. He was adorable. The recent worries had seemingly slipped from everyone's mind, if only for a moment. Any excuse to push aside the hovering threats and terrifying mysteries was welcomed with open arms, a common trait amongst Resistance members. Y/N remembered, months ago, Poe had explained that to her.  And even though she was less than thrilled to be the guest of honor at the not-so-secret party of that night, she knew she couldn't really complain. Everyone worked so hard. Who was she to deny them the fleeting joy of a celebration of life?  Around the room, the few people present were tired. The dark circles under their eyes tainted their faces in shades of purple, testaments of the workload everyone carried. Pilots' cheeks were hollowed by their helmets, worn through countless hours of the day. Poe was the worst of them all. His tan skin was unusually pale, and his attempts at rubbing the puffiness away didn't fool anyone. The other Resistance members were kind enough not to point it out, but as people clapped and cheered and the attention went to Y/N, the pilot glanced at her leader. He wasn't smiling, and his eyes were lost in the distance. Upon meeting Y/N's eyes, he consciously erased any mark of angst from his face. It didn't fool anyone, certainly not Finn, who looked at him knowingly. "So, Y/N, you're joining us for a drink tonight, right?" Petrov asked, and it was one of the only times Y/N had ever heard him speak. "We need to raise a glass for good health." Poe smirked at Skylen, and Y/N chuckled. "Sure, why not. As long as my squad leader doesn't drag me to a mission." "He certainly will not, Keebler." Klana excitedly threw an arm around her shoulders, squishing Y/N's cheek against hers. "Woohoo! I can't wait to celebrate your life! Don't worry, I have the perfect outfit," she whispered. Y/N shook her head with a sigh, though she was smiling. It was very challenging not to be excited when everyone else was.  Unfortunately, work couldn't wait, and Poe and Finn soon had to leave for a meeting with a high-ranking Navy officer. They instructed Y/N to take the day off before slipping outside. The group broke up, leaving the three pilots together. "Alright, what's the game plan for tonight?" Y/N asked once everyone was out of earshot. "We'll meet on base for a drink and then head into town to hit the club. Until then... We can do whatever you want; it's your day!" Y/N smiled gleefully. "Then how about jumping into an X-Wing to blow something up?"

Convincing the flying supervisors to open three landing strips for their three ships hadn't been very difficult; Y/N suspected Poe had something to do with it. Their small group had all but run outside like excited children, giggling on the way to the hangar. Their ships, always so pristine, were lined up in their usual spots, and they were quick to board them for a much-needed friendly fly-off. The three X-Wings soon flew above the planet, leaving thin trails of spout water when they caressed the sea's surface on the other side of Kuat. Though it was moderately chilly, it was also very bright. The sun danced on the mirror-like surface of the body of water, only disturbed by the occasional ripples caused by the engines.  Skylen led the two women through a training path in the woods nearby, and laughter followed them through the radio frequency as they engaged in a friendly dogfight. The trees weren't too close together, and none of the three pilots had any difficulties soaring past the obstacles, twirling in the air in complicated figures to show off their skills. Y/N laughed as she took her ship for a tight spin, sending Klana's trinket in a looping. When was the last time she had flown for fun? Not for a training session, but just for the sheer thrill of pushing her ship to its limit? It had been months. And if she didn't count the fly-off with Tarsen... Years. She blew up the target right before Skylen shot, and he cursed in her ear, sending her into a fit of laughter. "You're getting rusty, grandpa!" "You're lucky I can't legally kick your ass today, Thunderbird!" "You're just saying that because she's better than you!" "Hey! Whose side are you on, Klana?!" After another hour of aimless flying around, the three pilots touched down in the grass by the lakeside, hopping off their ships to share drinks —stashed by Skylen in his droid's usual spot— as they dipped their toes in the shallow water. It was icy and vivifying, perfectly balancing the warm liquid they were sipping on. "Honestly, you wouldn't believe how many parts there are in the human brain!" Skylen complained as he talked about his classes. "The rest of the psych stuff, I can handle. But anatomy? Man, I have the utmost respect for Feron and his team. I only have two mandatory classes on that topic, and it's the most challenging shit I've ever done. Even harder than surviving the war!" "You're SO dramatic," Klana snorted. "You memorized the entire flight manual in under a week. This should be a piece of cake for you!" "Hey, you try learning the entire brain's anatomy, and then we'll talk." "Skylen, dear, I speak over fifteen languages." "And is one of them the 'let's ask Varun out' language, perchance?" Y/N chimed in, earning a glare from her friend. "Sure! It's super similar to the 'let's have the balls to date Poe' one," she quipped back, and Skylen punched her shoulder. "None of that today, Klana. It's her birthday." She rolled her eyes good-naturedly as Y/N cackled victoriously. "I'll have my vengeance later, don't you worry." To prove her point, she splashed Skylen, and he shrieked, retaliating immediately. As they squabbled, Y/N smiled, gazing into the distance. A flock of swans was out for their dominical excursion away from the shore. Four cygnets trailed behind their parents as they looked around inquiringly. Three of them dove under the water's surface, and only two emerged as the last one kept its head buried, looking for— ... Hold on. Y/N froze mouth agape, with her drink in hand, staring at the animals as realization dawned on her. "Holy fuck." "Y/N? What's wrong?" Klana inquired worriedly. Both her friends had stopped bickering, damp hair unmoving as they stared at her. Y/N bolted to her feet. "No time to explain! We need to go back to the base NOW. I need to see Poe and Finn RIGHT NOW." Before her friends could protest, she took off, running toward her ship, heart thundering in her chest. "Y/N! WAIT!" "I KNOW WHAT HAPPENED THE NIGHT THE CHANCELLOR DIED!" She screamed above her shoulder as she climbed inside her X-Wing, with Skylen and Klana on her heels.

The journey back to the base was made with disregard for any safety measures pilots had to follow while on planet. Y/N pushed her ship nearly to the max of its sub-lightspeed limit, bolting across the stratosphere and reaching the base in record time. She only slowed down when she saw the compound in the distance, requesting authorization to land. The landing was rougher than it usually was, but Y/N didn't care. She couldn't have gotten to the Generals fast enough. She was obsessed with the thought, and nothing would stand in her way. She didn't wait for the mechanics to pull up a ladder; Y/N jumped down the ship, sticking another rough landing as Klana opened her ship's cockpit. "I'm sorry; I'll explain later," she apologized to her friend, but the black-haired pilot waved her off. "No need. GO! RUN!" Throwing her helmet to a dumbfounded Varun with a quick apology, Y/N bolted across the hangar, sprinting toward the entrance. She loosened her jumpsuit, tying it around her waist as she ran across the compound under her fellow Resistance members' bewildered gaze. Many people were in the hallways at this hour, and Y/N slalomed between them, shouting at them to move away. Mechanics flattened themselves against the walls, droids beeped as they rolled out of the way, and pilots stared in disbelief, but Y/N barely paid them any attention. But her mad rush quickly encountered an unexpected obstacle: a cleaning droid and its handler, who precariously balanced a pile of crates. He didn't see Y/N. Neither did she: not until she had taken a sharp turn and barged into the hallway. With the divine intervention of her otherwordly reflexes, she leaped over the droid and slid across the floor under the falling crates, stopping them with an invisible push as she froze them midair, suspended in their tumble. She jumped back to her feet. "SORRY!" She screamed above her shoulder as she took a turn right, finally reaching the control room's entrance.  She slid to a stop right by the door, breathless and dizzy. Y/N didn't pause to catch her breath, flashing her access card to open the door and trotting inside the room. Everyone looked up, including Connix, who raised an eyebrow in confusion. "Y/N? What are you- did you run here? What's going on?" "Need to... See... The Generals," she wheezed out. "They're still in a meeting with General Valentine. I can take a message for when they get out," Kaydel patiently explained as Vik, who stood by his usual spot, sprung to his feet, offering his bottle of water to Y/N, who accepted it gratefully. She took a swing from it, calming her soar throat. "It can't wait, Kaydel," she croaked. "It's an emergency. It's about the Chancellor." A somber look crossed Kaydel's features, and she nodded gravely. "Alright. Then we shall take you there. I hope you know what you're doing," Connix whispered. Oh, yeah, Y/N hoped so, too. Or else her satisfaction of being Lieutenant would be short-lived. "Odinson, take her to meeting room F45. I'll warn the guard to let you in. Godspeed." With a sharp nod, Vik stood up, gently leading Y/N out under the confused eyes of the communication officers - they were, undoubtedly, used to the unhinged shenanigans of the pilots on base. She followed him through several hallways to a section of the base she wasn't familiar with. She could feel Vik's side-eyeing her with curiosity, though he didn't dare to ask anything. After a few minutes of mildly-paced strolling, he slowed down and eventually came to a halt. "It's right around the corner," Vik indicated. "But if you're going to crash a meeting with the most prominent people of the Galaxy, you might want to, well... Don't take it the wrong way. Tidy up?" Y/N wheezed out a laugh. "I'm a mess, aren't I?" He cocked his head to the side, barely repressing a smile. "I wouldn't say that. You're just... Abstract art, at the moment." Stifling another giggle in case the guard could hear, Y/N nodded. "Right. I'm a mess." "I can help. May I?" She nodded, and Vik immediately reached out, rubbing her cheek, pushing back strands of flyaway hair, and straightening her undershirt. Y/N gathered her messy hair into the slickest braid she could as her friend fumbled through his pockets, producing a clean tissue from one of them and gently dabbing her forehead. "Alright. That should do it. Also, pin your rank on your lapel." Maker, this reminded her of an infamous first meeting with an equally infamous Knight of Ren a long time ago... Straightening her back, Y/N nodded. "Thanks, Vik." "Good luck in there, Teach. You've got this." He gave her an encouraging smile, and Y/N marched to the door with her chin high. The guard greeted her with a nod. "You sure you wanna go in there, Lieutenant?" he asked as he slowly typed in his code. "It's your funerals." She grimaced. "I'm sure Poe wouldn't let me get murdered on my birthday." The guard snorted before nodding toward the door. "It's open. Whenever you're ready." She took one deep breath, summoned the fake confidence she wore whenever she wore her armor, and pushed the double doors open with her hands, marching right into the room.

"...which would provide for an interesting-" Finn stopped in the middle of his sentence, and everyone turned toward the door with a look of utter disbelief. Poe looked like he had just been jolted awake; knowing him, it wasn't improbable. Both had wide eyes and open mouths, and Y/N sent them an apologetic look. The next thought she had was: HOLY FUCK. Connix had warned her they were in an important meeting, but she had failed to underline the forenamed meeting had every single General of both the Resistance and the Alliance in attendance. She took note of that minute detail when she realized all of their holograms were staring at her. General Calrissian, ever the sucker for unexpected events, was smiling delightfully. Admiral Madar, who commanded the fleet, was only staring. As for General Valentine, the head of the Alliance... He was snarling. "Generals. My sincerest apologies for the interruption. This could not wait." Her apologies were directed at Finn and Poe, and the latter immediately frowned, leaning forward imperceptibly. "Considering you just interrupted a highly-classified reunion that concerns overly sensitive details regarding both military forces, yes, I would hope so," Valentine hissed. Y/N had never met him, but she didn't fancy a face-to-face interaction anytime soon. His icy glare and buzz-cut blonde hair were enough in a hologram form, thank you very much. "Who are you? You have thirty seconds to explain yourself, soldier." "I would appreciate it if you showed respect to my pilot, General," Poe interrupted calmly. "She is a highly-trained individual who undoubtedly would not interrupt such an important meeting for anything less important than the end of the world, I'm sure." ...The look he sent her conveyed a very unconvinced "right?". "I'm Lieutenant Y/N Thunderbird, Sir. I'm a pilot." "Thunderbird... Ah, the high-ranking imperial officer who deserted. I know you. Speak, then." He had made no effort to hide the contempt in his tone. But instead of anxiously cowering as Y/N would have done before, she held her chin high, hands joined behind her back. "I believe I have information regarding the Chancellor's assassination. During the viewing of the security footage from the Senate, something bothered me, and I finally found out what-" "Care to explain why a low-ranking officer was shown this confidential piece of information, Generals?" He vituperated.  Okay, this level of vitriol had gone for long enough. Before Finn could say anything —because Poe was glaring daggers at his compeer— Y/N clapped back with a tight-lipped answer. "General Dameron and General Finn asked for my expertise not as a pilot but as a Force user. One who was trained by the late Luke Skywalker." The look of pure stupefaction on his face was priceless. A glance at Lando informed Y/N that this was not new to him. Valentine was quick to compose himself, though, dropping his glare in favor of a more inquisitive look. "I see. Speak, then." She took a small step forward, feeling everyone's undying attention on her figure. "In the video of the hallway, there were only four people on the video of them leaving," she stated, excitation lacing her words. While her friends listened with great interest, Y/N was only met with a look of confusion from the General of the Navy. "What? So?" "So, they knew where the cameras were as per our deductions. They made a point to show themselves walking to the Chancellor's quarters. But when they returned, there should have been five figures. But there were only four of them." Y/N was so enthusiastic she was barely enunciating the words clearly enough for anyone to understand. If she spoke any faster, they would require Threepio's translation skills. "We never see the prisoner's face as they drag him away. But what if he isn't a prisoner? Where is the last soldier?" Poe listened with narrow eyes, following her reasoning with imperturbable attention. As for Finn, he was leaning against his chair with arms crossed, listening intently. "Maybe just walking out of range," General Valentine offered. Y/N smiled. "But only two soldiers are restraining the prisoner, and there's one cloaked figure. They're in an enemy base, in the middle of the Senate, with the Chancellor's son as a hostage. Undoubtedly with a small window of opportunity. And nobody is covering their tracks?" She offered. Lando's hum was picked up by the vocoder. "What are you getting at?" He asked. She would gladly answer. "I think we don't see a fifth person because four came in, and four left. And I don't think the guy we're seeing is Jaso." Poe leaned forward even more. "What? But he is missing. And we found his blood." Hah. Good try. An answer Y/N had already thought of. "Right. Jaso's blood. But did anyone actually see him? Do we have ANY footage of him coming to his room before the attack and not leaving?" Silence stretched on as the four men thought about it. Valentine grimaced.  "Well, no. We have footage from Jaso early in the morning, but the security system started glitching around noon, and we have no footage from eight to midnight. If he returned during that period, we can't know. But the blood-" "The blood. We found Jaso's blood and signs of struggle, right? And what did we logically deduce? That he had been abducted that evening. Because it's the logical explanation. Blood and signs of struggle equal abduction." Understanding bloomed on Poe's face as his eyes widened. "That's what they would want us to think." There we go. Poe knew. They had had that discussion weeks prior upon examining the body with the Sith symbol. "Correct. But what if Jaso wasn't kidnapped that night? What if he was taken earlier that day when he left the Senate's grounds?" "Then it would mean the Chancellor's murder is just a cover-up. Their true target was always Jaso. Not his father. And we jumped into their trap headfirst," Finn concluded in disbelief, leaning back against his seat. "By the Force, Y/N, I think you're right. General, do you have access to Jaso's agenda? His travels, even the classified ones?" Valentine's holographic silhouette went briefly off-screen as muffled sounds rose from the speaker. "Yes, that can be found. We didn't look it up because... Well. Because we took the easy way out and deduced he had been kidnapped after his father was murdered," he conceded with pursed lips. "But you make some compelling arguments, Lieutenant. Give me one moment to sort the matter with our aides. I shall call you back in a minute." The call was put on hold, and his face disappeared. Immediately, the three remaining Generals relaxed as Admiral Madar cut his hologram feed. "Barging unannounced in a top-secret meeting... Han would be very proud of you, Y/N," Lando joked. "You definitely take after him." "That's a compliment if I ever heard one," she joked back, and he chuckled. "How, in the name of the Force, did you figure that one out?" Poe asked, and Y/N shrugged with an impertinent smile. "Swans." He blinked. "You're way too sharp for me," he mumbled, and Finn laughed. Their friendly banter was short-lived as General Valentine's face popped up again. His facial expression eased the worries about being fired on her birthday Y/N had. And told her she was right. "You need to hear this," he stated with no warning. A fresh face appeared, a man in his thirties squeezed into a uniform he was drowning in. He timidly waved at the camera. "H-Hello. I am Captain Arkis, the head of security in the VIP quarters." "Well? Don't just gawk at them. Tell them what you told me," Valentine interrupted impatiently. "Right. On the evening the Chancellor was murdered, and Vice-Chancellor Jaso went missing, we got a late order for a change in the guard rotation. It was sent in from Jaso's personal commlink. Which was strange because he usually wouldn't give orders through a message like this, but since he had left earlier for an emergency trip, we didn't question it." "Jaso left?" Poe questioned. "Oh, yes, but he used his access card later in the evening, so we weren't worried. In hindsight, we should have been..." "Where did he go?" Y/N wondered out loud. "To Corellia, I suppose. He visits his mother regularly. But since he doesn't use the taxpayers' money for his travels, we let him." Y/N frowned. "How many times per month are we talking?" "Oh, two or three, I suppose." "And if he doesn't go there with the Senate, does he pay for everything?" Finn inquired. "Actually, no. Jaso's mother provides all of the money. She is very wealthy and only gets visits from him. Since she's also very sick, I suppose she is grateful for his unwavering presence by his side. He is truly involved in her path to recovery; it's remarkable." Y/N's wheels spun in her head. So many trips were marked as 'private' and probably with little to no security from the Senate's guards due to privacy reasons... Of course, it would be easy to kidnap him on his way to or back from Corellia. Swipe his code cylinder, use it to move the guards around to a more convenient time and place, and leave unnoticed... Damn Jaso. His trips to his mother might eventually cost him his life.  "Who would have been aware of those trips? In details, I mean?" Poe asked. "Well... The Chancellor, I suppose. And Jaso's mother herself. His aide and his pilots. But they wouldn't necessarily accompany him, and his assistant, who did, is a droid and was destroyed in the attack. So... Only his parents would know his whereabouts at all times when on those trips." "I think we need to investigate his mom. Jaso told me she and his dad don't get along anymore. If she is sick, she might have told someone about her son without realizing it. But this certainly corroborates our theory. And since the video is black and white, it's not hard to have someone else pass as Jaso. All they needed was a stormtrooper with similar hair color," Y/N concluded, earning convinced nods from the rest. "Oh! Right! Speaking of which... When we searched the Chancellor's quarters, we found something in the garbage chute. By the time we got to this spot, the machine had gotten rid of a fair share of its load, but we still found white plastoid shards." ...And who wore white plastoid armors? Stormtroopers! Y/N snuck a triumphant look toward her friends, and Poe answered with a muted version of his trademark smirk. What had they learned so far? Jaso was seen leaving the Senate, but no one saw him returning. His access code was used to give orders remotely, which happened to facilitate the intruders' trip to the highly-secured quarters of the Chancellor. He was murdered, and the attackers left without anyone, leaving behind a stormtrooper armor they partially destroyed and blood... It made sense, didn't it? Kriff, Y/N wouldn't be fired!

The soldier was dismissed, and General Valentine returned in the hologram, his blueish silhouette buzzing around slightly. "It appears, judging on the elements and theories we were provided with, that Lieutenant's Thunderbird hypothesis is plausible." "I think you mean 'accurate," General," the Admiral chimed in for the first time. "We now have an idea regarding what course of action we should take moving forward." "We'll ask our technicians to work on the signature from Jaso's commlink," Finn stated. "If the kidnappers sent a message from it, it might be possible to track it to specific coordinates and triangulate the position of the ship he was on. The path between Coruscant and Corellia is a major trade route. We have men everywhere. Someone must have seen something. The Alliance can look into Jaso's mother and the flight logs from the Navy." "We will send you the remains of the droid we retrieved," Valentine offered. "Perhaps your technicians can salvage something." His icy gaze, piercing even through the bluishness of the hologram, landed on Y/N. She straightened her back subconsciously.  "Lieutenant. Despite the... peculiarity of your intervention, your insight proved crucial to the case. I have great hopes we will find Jaso soon. Such a shame he will have to spend his birthday in the hands of separatists... I had hoped we would have found him by today," General Valentine sighed. "Regardless. We thank you for your contribution, though I do hope that moving forward, they will be less... unprompted." The message was heard loud and clear. Now was Y/N's time to retreat into the shadows. "Glad to be of help. I shall return to my duties. Thank you for granting me an audience, Generals. Admiral." She bowed in respect before turning on her heels and exiting the room, sparing one last look at her friends. Poe subtly winked, and Finn threw a thumb up under the table. She was still chuckling when she closed the door behind her.  The guard perked up upon seeing her leaving. "You're still alive and well?" He wondered out loud in disbelief. Y/N snickered. "Surprisingly." "Y/N! Kriff, you're still alive!" "Why is everyone so shocked?" She laughed when Vik popped up around the corner. "I know what I was doing. Besides, you won't get rid of me so easily. Did you wait here?" He grimaced, scratching his head. "Maybe? I just wanted to make sure you'd be okay. General Valentine is..." He paused. "For lack of a better word, a cunt." He was certainly something. Y/N snorted, walking with Vik toward the control room they had left earlier. "Well, I can't tell you what happened inside, but he isn't half bad. I think everyone is nervous. After what happened..." She trailed off, unwilling to get into the Chancellor's gruesome death, but Vik nodded regardless. "I know. You can almost taste it. Everyone's so stressed. It reminds me of the war a bit too much," Vik mumbled. "But I have faith in you. And General Dameron and Finn." "In me?" Y/N wheezed. "Why me?" Vik stopped before he reached the door, an amused look on his face. He snorted, eyes trailing on a cleaning droid before focusing on Y/N. "Why you? Don't you realize how much help you give them? You haven't been here long, but you're invaluable to them. Not a day goes by without Finn or Poe gushing about your work. Besides, you have the Force. Jedi are rare and sought after. And you're a brilliant pilot." Y/N laughed, cheeks turning pink. She looked away, suddenly finding the droid particularly fascinating.  "I don't know about that, but I'll continue to do my best." "I know you will. But for now, I do believe it's your day off. You have a birthday party- gathering to prepare for," he corrected himself with a grimace. The sudden fear in his eyes made Y/N mentally cackle. Poe had drilled the secrecy into their brains. "Right. The gathering. Will I see you tonight?" Vik clearly hesitated, and she stopped feigning ignorance, giggling. "Relax, Vik. I know all about it. I won't tell Poe anyone told me." His shoulders slumped as he breathed out, running a hand through his blonde hair. "Kriff, I was terrified for a second. Then, yes, you'll see me tonight." "Great! Now off you go; I've kept you away from work long enough. Any minute now, pilots will start flying into one another." He laughed good-naturedly. "You overestimate my job, but I appreciate it. See you tonight, Teach." With a giddy smile blooming on her face, Y/N waved. Perhaps she would not screw this up.

"Come on! We're gonna be late!" "Can I even be late for my own pre-party?" Klana whacked her behind the head very gently, and Y/N hissed. "Ouch! Rude!" "You know that's not what I'm worried about! Besides, Poe sent me a message five minutes ago; the food's there. He placed a special delivery and had it taken from town. The Yavin IV special you had with him? Whatever that is." Oh! Seriously? If only she had said that earlier, Y/N would have hurried! Wasting no time, she threw on her shirt and jacket, making sure not to muss Klana's tight braids. "Who's gonna be here anyway?" She inquired while taking one last look in the mirror. Klana tapped her chin thoughtfully. "Finn. Poe. BeeBee. Rose and Varun, both our squads. That's it." "That's it? That's still a lot of people, Kriff." "Wait until you see the party. The turnout's going to be insane." She grimaced and caught Klana's eyes in the mirror. Her friend cackled. "Don't make that face! They're all here to celebrate you. You've become quite popular. Saving BeeBee from that droid scored you some major brownie points." Right. It had also brought its fair share of worries, problems, and questions. This day was lighter regarding Force-related concerns, but it didn't mean Y/N was free of any worries. The new revelations regarding Jaso's disappearance weighed heavily on her mind. Somehow, it felt like they had all the puzzle pieces but couldn't see the larger picture... They were so close to solving this; she just knew it. But now wasn't the time to waste energy on "what ifs." They had a party to attend. Y/N linked her arm with Klana's and happily left for the rendezvous point: a room in yet another part of the base she hadn't explored. Someday, she would need to investigate the ins and outs of Kuat's facility. They heard the laughter and music before they reached the room, merriment spilling out through the open door like billows of smoke, making the air thick with joy. It smelled like happiness, and Y/N genuinely looked forward to spending the evening with her friends. When they finally reached the entrance, delighted cheers and enthusiastic welcomes rose from the crowd. "Finally!" Skylen boomed, slapping his thighs in the process. The glass he was holding spilled a bit, nearly splashing BeeBee. The droid rolled out of the way, hiding behind Y/N's leg. "Don't scare him off!" "Hey, I just wanted to share my drink with him! Speaking of which..." Before she could react, a glass was thrust into her open hand and into Klana's by none other than Finn. "Y/N! Welcome! You're right on time; food just arrived. Sit down!" He led the two women to the gathered couches and the people sitting atop them, chatting excitedly. A massive table had been installed and was nearly buried under the piles of food spread out. It had everything, from appetizers to that cheesy delight Poe had introduced her to.  That, and a shit ton of bottles full of alcohol.  Y/N squeezed herself between Skylen and Varun as Klana sat down in front of her, between Poe and Mala.  Oh, no, her friend and the mechanic would eye-fuck each other for the rest of the evening. "They're going to stare lovingly from across the room; I just know it," Skylen whispered, and she snorted into her drink. "Don't start." Rounds of drinks were served, and the whole group started happily chatting, munching on appetizers as they shared stories of their time together. Y/N was surprised by how much they remembered about her early days on Kuat.  She wasn't surprised to learn that her stunt with the TIE she had lured away was still fresh in everyone's minds. "I've never seen anyone so blatantly disregard orders before!" Jessika Pava said, laughing. "Well... Except for Poe, of course." "Jess, zip it," Poe grunted with feigned annoyance. "You're not much better. And don't encourage her!" "I got my ass whooped for that one," Y/N reminded, now laughing almost fondly at the memory. "Not nearly hard enough to discourage you from trying again, I'm sure," Poe countered. She smirked. "You're losing your touch, Dameron." He shot her a warning look paired with the hint of a smile as wolf whistles rose from the crowd. "You're lucky it's your birthday, Thunderbird." "I'm quaking in my boots."

Time went by slower than drinks were emptied. Anytime someone was done with theirs, Skylen or Varun would fill it back up. Y/N had found the trick half an hour earlier, now nursing her beer. Poe's secret food source was a hit with all the guests, and the people who had to leave prematurely were pretty bummed. Seats had been shuffled, and Y/N ended up between Klana and Skylen as Varun and Mala migrated on another couch. Unfortunately, Y/N realized it was a trap way too late, as this new layout allowed her friends to get up to retrieve her gifts. Her cheeks turned redder than a Sith's lightsaber as the first one landed on her lap. BeeBee, the impossibly cute devil, recorded her reaction. She glared at him, and he beeped innocently, zooming as she tore off the pink —Klana's choice— wrapping paper. Y/N was met with a surprisingly light sculpture made of metal and glass and realized its nature upon closer inspection: a tiny replica of the Galaxy, with some routes modeled in blue glass. Wait. Was that a replica of ALL of her missions' flight plans? "By Malachor! You did NOT represent all of my flights with you on this!" "Oh, we did," Skylen cackled, high-fiving Klana. "Had to bribe Vik into looking them up for us. You've been with us for months; it seemed fitting." "It's AWESOME! Thank you!" She giddily hugged her friends, laughing as Skylen's beard tickled her forehead. It was so thoughtful; it made her heart sing. Next, Finn was more than happy to hand her a small orange box with a big grin. Something told her this would be a private joke. Squinting at him —which only caused him to laugh— she popped the lid open, revealing— "You did NOT!" She chortled, taking out a replica of her X-Wing, identical to its full-scale model. But in her other hand, she took out the second item: a tiny TIE with red spokes and her former callsign hand-painted on the side. Hysterical. "Now you can make those fly," he commented, winking playfully. Y/N would have to try later! Her fellow squad members gifted her a bottle of Merenzane gold, and she poured everyone a glass as they got up to dance and jump around. At one point, Poe casually offered to get out and have a drink in a cantina after that, and with a knowing look to Klana, Y/N enthusiastically accepted. After that, she not-so-subtly nudged Finn toward Rose with a pointed look, and the poor man had no choice but to ask her to dance. Poe high-fived Y/N behind the duo's back with a satisfied smirk and a conniving wink. Music and laughter filled the room, and Y/N was dragged into a drinking game by Jessika and Petrov (who was shockingly good at them).

By the time everyone got ready to leave for the party (with excuses varying from amusing to downright suspicious), it was increasingly evident that Poe was quieting down, a mere shell of his usually extroverted self. He didn't seem particularly ill-at-ease, nor did he appear stressed to anyone (Y/N had asked Klana), but there was the slightest shift in his behavior - a tiny change in his default setting that rubbed her the wrong way. He nursed his drink with the occasional smile answering the friendly banter, humoring guests with the occasional low-effort chuckle. Though she was supposed to be enjoying herself, Y/N was drawn to him, her attention fleeting away from whoever was speaking, invariably returning to Poe. She had just downed her third drink (which wasn't unrelated to what followed) when she decided to sit next to him. Plopping down unceremoniously, she made him jump despite knowing he had seen her coming. "Dameron." "Thunderbird." "Why are you sulking?" "I'm not." "Perhaps not, but something's wrong." He seemed to consider it for a second. Y/N saw the emotions playing on his face; a direct live stream plugged into his brain. Contempt, thoughtfulness, hesitation, denial, hesitation, resolve, capitulation. "I think it's useless to lie, huh? You have superpowers now to tell you about this stuff." Y/N snickered. "Hardly. I don't need the Force; I know you. Believe it or not, we're nearing a year of friendship. It's still a few months away, but..." "You're right," he conceded. "But you shouldn't be worried about me today. Besides, I promise it's nothing important." "It's my birthday; I get to decide what's important. Right now, you're the important thing." Y/N could have sworn he was flustered. But it disappeared in merely a second. "I need to give you something. Can't do it in front of everyone, though." "Oh. Kinky." Definitely the three drinks.  "...You're insufferable," he decided, though the hint of a smile tugged at his lips. "Ah, ah, ah. Can't tell that to me today," she tutted. "It's past midnight, so I technically can. But whatever, I'll let you win this round." She hit his shoulder playfully, leaning forward in the process. Worried she might tip over, Poe stabilized her with both hands.  "Easy there." "I'm fine!" "You were about to fall flat on your face, Keebler." She was not! Skylen called her, and Y/N turned around, chatting with him from across the room, the current argument long forgotten.

Ten minutes later, they wrapped it up and left for the party. A very agitated Klana had to be carried to her room by an equally restless Skylen, who was at least walking straight. Finn escorted Rose, and the rest of the pilots carried Varun out after he had lost a bet earlier. Poe and Y/N were left alone with BeeBee. It wasn't until that point that Y/N realized she hadn't budged. Her spot of choice was still the one next to Poe, and she had moved closer to him. The two were now sitting with their thighs touching and their shoulders bumping.  There was no longer a reason since they were the only two humans in the room, but Y/N didn't feel the need to scoot over. She had to shamelessly admit, though, that Poe had been telling her something, and she couldn't focus on anything else than his dimple. This man was a god. "...Y/N." "I'm listening!" He snorted. "You're staring. Come on. I need to give you something."

His stress was palpable. Genuinely so: his leg was tense.  He stood up, brushing off invisible dust from his spotless clothes, before walking straight toward a cabinet she hadn't noticed before. Plain and unassuming, it was just a storage unit, but Poe looked at it like it were a treasure chest. Humming to himself, he punched in a code, and the door whooshed open. On the other side, tucked away in the shadows, stood a square, shoulders-wide box. Poe plucked it up gingerly and carried it to the couch, holding it as he stood in front of Y/N. It was neatly wrapped in orange paper that crinkled under Poe's fingertips.  He sheepishly looked down. "I didn't want you to open it with everyone else. Figured that's... Not something you'd like to showcase. It's nothing dangerous or weird or anything. Just... You'll understand." He bit his lips and all but shoved the box forward into Y/N's surprised hands.  "Careful. It's heavy," Poe warned before letting go of it. Y/N rested it on her thighs, looking up with bashful eyes. "Oh, Poe. You didn't have to get me anything."  He chuckled. "I know. I just... I wanted to make your first real birthday special, you know? Figured you didn't get to celebrate during the war, and you don't remember any other ones." Her heart leaped around in her ribcage, and Y/N merely nodded, not trusting herself with words. He was so thoughtful the mere intention turned her into a blubbering mess. Under his watchful gaze, she tore the paper open and popped the metal lid off, setting it aside. A glance at Poe showed her he was leaning against the wall with his arms crossed, chewing on his bottom lip.  She bit hers as she plunged her hand into the box, her fingers grazing against a rough surface. But it wasn't hard, it was... Leather? With a perplexed look, Y/N dug into the box with both hands and pulled its content out— What she found inside nearly knocked her out from shock.

It was, indeed, made of leather.  But it wasn't just that. The sleeves were made of leather and met in the breast area under the metallic gorget. The shoulder pieces —made of the same thin black metal— were strapped into place by two sturdy leather pieces and bore the Resistance's Starbird. The tight leather was also used on the bodice, tight and shiny under the neon lights. It went on to the hips, giving way to two metallic tassets and a utility belt. Y/N's thumb caught on the round hook hanging there. Her eyes trailed upward, following the tummy area that featured slim and articulated pieces of metal, allowing a certain degree of freedom to move. And above that, on the breastplate, carved with attuned craftsmanship, stood the symbol of the Jedi Order.  Y/N stared at it, mouth agape, eyes wide as plates. This could not be. Her fingers grazed over the shiny, light metal. She would recognize it anywhere; it was Phrik. One of the only lightsaber-resistant substances in the Galaxy.  Frozen in place, her hand caressed the armor. Whoever had designed it had done a phenomenal job. She hadn't seen such outstanding craftsmanship since... Since Kylo had gifted her the blade. Stupor and utter bewilderment prevented her from saying anything, let alone moving. It took Poe's voice to startle her back to her senses. "I asked a Mandalorian I know to make it. Kit helped with the design; I'll give him credit. He sketched it from memory, and we improved it. You said... I mean... You said the armor wasn't the problem, that the problem was what it stood for. I wanted you to take your control back. Figured if you're gonna follow Rey... You'd need to look the part. I mean, you can totally take off the Jedi symbol; it's detachable, I don't want to assume... I just... Well. You know. It's made of Phrik; you've probably recognized it, though. I figured it'd keep you safe and-" He was rambling. But by the Force, he could ramble all he wanted for the rest of his life; Y/N didn't mind one bit. What he had just gifted her was... It was beyond what any words could express. This wasn't just a gift designed to keep her safe when Poe couldn't; this was... This was her freedom. As her silence grew, so did Poe's worries, and he frowned as Y/N delicately put the box aside, finally mustering the courage to look at him. "Hey, if you don't like it, it's fine; I don't want to—" "Poe." Her voice broke, and she clamped her hand over her mouth, on the verge of tears. Poe's frown deepened. But before he could get another word out or worry any further, Y/N shook her head and threw herself into his arms, wrapping hers around his shoulders. He let out a tiny 'oof' as the momentum of her action sent them both backward. Poe stumbled until his back hit the wall, but he smoothly caught Y/N, securing her with his arms as he hugged her back. She was trembling, her limbs tangled with his, incapable of voicing her gratitude.  "Hey, you're okay, Y/N," he mumbled in her hair, soothingly rubbing her back. Was she? Was she okay? The weight of everyone's expectations was crushing her, but Poe had lifted it off with a box. It didn't change anything about herself or the decision she had to make, but he had gifted her more than the armor; he had given her the tools she needed to carry on the fight. The sheer power of that symbolism knocked the wind out of her lungs, and she took a shuddering breath.  Somehow, somewhere, a deity was pleased enough with her in a past life to put Poe Dameron in this one. When she was sure she would keep the tears at bay, Y/N took a small step back, putting some distance between her and Poe. "You okay here?" He chuckled. "Had me worried for a second." Despite still feeling overwhelmed, she giggled. "I'm fine. I just can't believe you did this. Thank you, Poe. Really. You didn't have to do this, and... it means a lot." He smirked. "I mean... I couldn't pass up the opportunity." He was pretty proud of himself, and he deserved to be.  He deserved everything, to be honest. "Did you seriously get Kit's help?" He groaned, rolling his head backward. Being this close to him, Y/N could see how his lips quirked upward ever-so-slightly. "Yes. It was as dreadful as you'd imagine. But hey, I sent weapons in exchange, so the guy can't whine." Y/N laughed. She still had her arms around his shoulders and wasn't planning on moving anytime soon. Her amusement died down too soon, replaced by a serious look as she stared at him. "In all seriousness, Poe, I... I don't know how to thank you. This means more to me than you could ever imagine." He swatted her question away with an exaggerated eye roll. "Psht. It's nothing. I'm just glad you like it. Couldn't finish the night without giving you your best gift yet, eh?" She rolled her eyes good-naturedly before settling for a long, heavy look into his eyes. "I think the best gift ever bestowed upon me is you." Poe's jaw dropped. Thanks to her place against his chest, she saw his eyes widen and heard his breath hitch. The physical proximity allowed her to be in the front row to witness Poe's usually subtle expression changes. She realized too late how it sounded. "Your friendship, I mean," Y/N corrected herself with a slight wince. His usual demeanor returned as he grinned. "Sure. But you're telling me that instead of spending a fortune on this thing, I could have just gifted you a day in my delightful company?!" She whacked his shoulder. "Maker, Poe! I don't even want to know how much you spent on this!" His grin turned into a grimace as he stared at his droid. "...yeah, it's better if you don't know. Besides, it's rude to ask. And don't you even think about it," Poe hissed in BeeBee's direction. As the droid beeped innocently, Y/N frowned. "I'm serious." "So am I." "But-" "Y/N Thunderbird, you are worth every credit and then some," he interrupted her, deadly serious.

It was her turn to be speechless. Poe's gaze, as per usual, was so intense that every thought she ever had left her brain. Could he hear her heart beating? Oh, it reminded her of that day, in her room, when she was sure he wanted to... Her brain trailed off as he pushed a strand of hair behind her ear, scrutinizing her face with soft eyes and a contemplative frown. "What?" She breathed out. He remained quiet for a moment. "I'll admit, I didn't know how you'd react. But I should've known... You never cease to surprise me." "Haven't I proven earlier today how astonishing I am?" She joked, and Poe bit his lip. "I was floored. What you did was incredibly stupid and insanely cool, too." Heh. Y/N was just glad to be of help. "You know," he added, "I-" "Oh, am I interrupting?" Y/N screamed in surprise, flinching away from Poe, who jumped, cursing. Skylen was leaning in the doorway with the biggest grin Y/N had ever seen. "I can give you the room if you need it. I was just stopping by to check on Y/N. Taking an awfully long time in here, Duckling." "I'm coming! We were just talking. And Poe gave me my gift." "I'll carry it for you; I don't want you to get lost again. Come on, we need to get you ready for our excursion in town," Skylen concluded with a wink. Poe rolled his eyes, blissfully unaware of the shared secret between his two pilots. "I'll see you later, Porg Head. Thank you again." He gave her a lopsided grin and a little wave as she left the room with Skylen, who was still grinning like an idiot. "Did I just cockblock you on your birthday? I am SO sorry, Duckling." "Oh, shut the hell up, Furball."

The two speeders pulled up in front of the nightclub, the breeze caressing Y/N's bare legs. Various other speeders were parked up front, some guarded by their owners who sat on them, others carelessly pushed to the side in a tangled mess of metal parts. As Y/N hopped off hers with Skylen's help, she noticed fellow Resistance members stumbling out of the club, barely keeping their balance as their cackles floated into the night. They hadn't even taken that long; Klana's preparations had been quick for once, merely changing Y/N's hair and slapping some sparkles on her cheeks. She had then dressed her friend into a holographic skirt and a top that could light up. That, plus reminding her half a dozen times to act surprised. As they pushed through the thick cloud of smoke, Klana grabbed her hand again. "Hey, don't forget-" "To act surprised. I know," she giggled. The Death Star, the flagship of the Resistance's parties, looked no different than usual. The regulars hung outside, but some whispered as the three pilots walked up to the entrance. Y/N bitterly regretted dressing up, as it was freezing. Loth cats, which were legion in the city, were nowhere to be found, preferring the warm haven of the buildings to the chilliness of the streets. Someone had put a stick of what seemed to be salt in their water bowl; they were expecting the temperature to drop even more. Skylen rubbed her friend's back with a smile as Klana, inexplicably immune to the cold weather, strutted toward the door. "Come on, you slugs! Hurry up! I want to drink something!" With a wink, she opened the club's door and walked in first, partially hiding the club from Y/N's view. Only partially. The second she stepped aside, the crowd erupted in a boisterous cheer. "HAPPY BIRTHDAY!" Clasping her hand together in feigned surprise, Y/N still let out a genuine laugh as all of her friends and coworkers raised their glasses in her honor, led by Poe and Finn, who stood in the middle of the room. Finn jogged up to her and slung his arm around her shoulders. "There she is! The woman of the hour! Come on, put this on!" Before Y/N could protest, he popped a luminous headpiece in her hair, grinning as it blinked. "You look fantastic! Now come on, let's get you a drink, shall we?"

As he dragged her to the bar, Y/N looked around. She recognized everyone; even Tarsen and his squad were present, and he gave her a curt nod when their eyes met. Her students were also all present, including Vik, who had traded his usual white uniform for a leather jacket and a pair of slacks. He timidly waved when he saw her, and Y/N gave him a warm smile. But the person she was looking for had mysteriously vanished in the crowd. They finally reached the bar, and Finn leaned forward, asking the barman for drinks as Y/N leaned against the wall. She focused on her surroundings, doing her best to use the Force to locate Poe. Something prickled at the back of her neck, and she smiled right before his hand landed on the small of her back. "Thunderbird. Fancy seeing you here." His breath tickled her ear, and she turned around, grinning. "General! What a surprise." He, too, had changed out of his previous outfit. He had lost his trusty jacket in favor of an open black shirt with three buttons undone. It gave Y/N a nice look at his upper chest and the dangling ring on a chain around his neck.  Her eyes trailed down his silhouette, drinking in the sight of him. When she looked up, she found Poe grinning with a knowing look. She punched his shoulder. "Shut up." "Hey, you're the one who called me a gift to humanity." "I did NOT say that!" Fortunately for her, they were interrupted by the barman who carried a trail of colorful drinks. Since Y/N had already drunk quite a bit, she looked at them with dread. Lining the glasses on the counter, the employee produced a whole cake from behind it, grabbing his lighter and lighting up a candle. "There you go, birthday girl." Y/N opened her mouth to thank him as Klana jumped on the bar, cupping her hands. "ALRIGHT! I NEED EVERYONE'S VOICE FOR THIS!" Oh, no. She was steadily held into place by Finn and Poe —each with a hand on her shoulders— before she could run outside. "Where are you going?" Poe asked with a grin. Preferably anywhere else? But it was too late, and with one united voice, the crowd started belting out a birthday song in her honor. Everyone was so loud and in synch that the floor vibrated and the air buzzed around her, heavy with their enthusiastic screams. Skylen gestured for Y/N to hop on his shoulders, and she obliged, laughing as he picked her up and lifted her as the song went on. "HAPPY BIRTHDAY, THUNDERBIRD!" Stomping their feet and clapping their hands, they made a ruckus as Skylen lowered her back to the floor, letting her blow her candles. As she breathed in, Y/N made a wish. I want to spend all my upcoming birthdays with the people I love. She blew them out.

Her body was so numb from dancing that she collapsed on the stool with questionable grace, grunting as she raised her glass to her lips. Y/N had drunk too much. Not enough to be loopy, but certainly the right amount to feel the buzz of the Jawa juice she was sipping. It was hot inside the club, and everyone was having a great time. Klana and Skylen sat next to her, drinking their poison. Finn and Rose were going at it on the dancefloor, resuming their previous dancing session. Y/N smiled knowingly. These two only needed some encouragement. But as her eyes glazed over the crowd, she realized she couldn't see Poe. She also realized she was unwillingly looking for him. It had become somewhat of a habit: an automatism that calmed her nerves. "He's on the other side of the bar," Klana whispered. "You should do something about that." Y/N turned her head, locking eyes with her friend. "You think?" "It's your birthday. Go for it. Seriously. Besides, Poe's been staring at you for five minutes." Any other day of the year, Y/N would have turned red and mumbled some incoherent argument, but she was drunk, happy, and still reeling from Poe's gift. She jumped to her feet, raising her chin. "You know what? You're right." Klana's 'you go, girl!' followed her as she marched to the other side of the bar before she could talk herself out of doing it. As expected, the General leaned against the counter, a drink in hand. His hair was a mess of dark locks, and his eyes were blurry; he, too, was drunk. "General." "Lieutenant." The DJ started a new song: an upbeat tune Y/N didn't care enough to try and identify. But it was catchy enough to make her grin instantly. She smiled. "Dance with me!" Poe barely repressed his smile, hiding it behind his glass. "I don't dance, Thunderbird." "Yes. Yes, you do. Besides, I'm asking, and you're not gonna turn me down. I know you want to." He grumbled but didn't even try to resist as she grabbed his hand and dragged him to the dancefloor. Before they disappeared into the crowd, she caught her friends' eyes, and Skylen gave her a thumbs up before high-fiving Klana.

They found a nice, semi-secluded spot —as secluded as one could find in a crowded room— and Y/N grinned. Poe was watching her, eyes twinkling devilishly. Y/N took off her crown and put it in his hair, giggling as it mussed it out even more.  Satisfied with her arrangements, she started swaying to the music, playfully putting her hands on Poe's shoulders. Though she didn't hear it, Y/N felt his chest rumbling with laughter. "What?" She screamed over the music. "People are staring," he pointed. With a mischievous grin, she looked around, confirming his statement. "Let them. Probably admiring how fancy you look with this thing on your head." Grabbing her waist, Poe pulled her closer to him with a laugh. "No, I'm pretty sure they're looking at you." As Y/N dropped her arms, he followed her movements, swaying to the energetic beat, before spinning her around with her back facing his chest. Y/N shrieked and giggled, losing herself in the music, hips rolling from side to side as his hands followed. "Because you look incredible, Keebler," he murmured in her ear, his breath tickling her. Y/N's heart missed a beat, and she turned her head to the side, inching away from his face. "You're not too shabby yourself, Porg Head." With a dazzling smile, Poe picked up the rhythm, hips moving to the beat as his hands remained glued to Y/N's skin, accompanying her as she swayed to the music. He was intoxicating. Maybe it was the alcohol talking, but his perfume had never been so overwhelming. All she knew and smelled was him. He was everywhere, and her heart thundered in her chest. Could he hear it? Feel it? Hazy flashes from a specific day on Tatooine came to her mind. She remembered the last time they had been physically so close... Her nerve endings were ablaze, set on fire by Poe's respectful but never-ending caresses, fleeting and mind-consuming. Y/N pivoted on her heels, her chest bumping with Poe's. Their height difference was still noticeable despite her small heels, and he nearly towered over her. It was so hot in there. Strands of hair, slick with sweat, had escaped her braids, and Poe's hair stuck to his forehead, messier than ever. "Wanna give them a reason to stare harder?" He asked, and Y/N nodded before she could even think about the question. He laughed. "Then jump!" Jump?! As in... Leap in the air? With a quizzical look, Y/N took a step back, put her arms on his shoulders, and did as she was told- He grabbed her thighs, and she instinctively locked them behind his waist before Poe all but dipped her backward, his hand securing her back as her head tilted toward the ground, back arched to the max of her ability. He effortlessly pulled her back up, barely straining under the effort, before putting her back on the floor with a shit-eating grin.  "I thought you didn't dance?!" Y/N laughed as the music changed. Chest heaving, Poe chuckled. "I never said I don't know how to." Around them, some bystanders cheered and whooped, and Y/N bowed jokingly. Her head was spinning, and she could barely think straight. She needed to go home. This last dance had exhausted her; besides, it was already late. Poe led her to the lounge, where they met back with their friends. Trailing after him, Y/N noticed his gait was wobblier than it should have been. Now that she thought about it, he had been drinking pretty heavily all night long... He was probably tired and drunk out of his mind. All his energy had gone into that last dance, and Y/N felt guilty. Well. Not exactly, because she was delighted to have danced with him like this, but still. "I think I'm gonna call it a night," Poe stated, grabbing a glass of water. "You've got some moves, Thunderbird." "That, she does," Klana commented with a smirk.  Fortunately, the General was too exhausted to pay her any mind. "I'm coming with you," Y/N stated, pushing back flyaway hair. "Oh, no way. This is your birthday party. I can find my way back," he protested. Finn shook his head and opened his mouth to argue, but Y/N beat him to it. "Poe. You're drunk. I'm not letting you go back to your room alone. You might walk into a wall and collapse or something." "I'm not- drunk. I am tispy. Tipsy." Poe stepped forward to pat her shoulder but tripped on his feet and caught himself right as Y/N leaped forward to stop him from falling. Her brows furrowed worryingly. He was clearly out of it. His eyes were distant; he was kilometers away from the party. "Yeah. Okay. I'm pretty drunk." No shit. He didn't try to push her away as she helped him, excusing themselves to the bystanders. She waved at her friends and said her goodbyes, and they walked —more like waddled— outside the club. Fortunately, the speeder was still right outside. Y/N grabbed the keys, insisting on riding it herself as she was the less drunk of the two, and they made their way back to the base carefully. It was a good thing the town was so close to the compound. 

The trip home had awoken Poe as the nippy air whipped at their faces, and she didn't have to steady him anymore. It was still obvious he had drunk too much, but he could walk straight and form coherent sentences, as long as they weren't too long. "Poe?" "Hm." "I've never seen you this drunk," she said as they reached the landing strip and made their way toward the entrance. "Are you okay?" He stayed silent for a second. Perhaps it was the alcohol that made him think about it. Either way, he sighed as they walked in. The hallways were quiet and barely lit. Most of the soldiers were still at the club. "Not really. I... everything that's happening, everything we've learned... I'm worried. About it starting again. Over again." His grammar had been better, but she understood what he meant anyway. She shared the same worries. Y/N sighed. "I know what you mean," she whispered. She couldn't say anything else. There was nothing she could say that would quell Poe's angst. She didn't know what the future had in store and certainly didn't know more than he did. "I'd love to tell you I'll help in any way I can," she started again, turning right to the hallway that led to his room. "But I'm not sure that'd be enough. I... I don't think I can help as much as I want to. I'm not Rey; I'm just... me. I wish I could do more with the Force... I'm sorry." He stopped, and she walked into him, hitting him in the back. "Oi! What the hell?" she wailed, clutching her jaw. When he turned around, he was... angry? Pissed? Annoyed? "Y/N, you need to stop. That's not... you're not... not useful. That needs to go. I don't want you..." He trailed off and shook his head. "Okay. I can't think. You come with me to my room, I'll take a shower to sober up, and we can finish talking." "Can't we do that tomorrow?" She whined. Was she trying to avoid the upcoming argument? ...Maybe. "No." "Why not?" "Because I don't want you walking back to your room alone while you're drunk." She scoffed. "Uh, excuse you, you're drunker than me. And we're inside the base; nothing can happen to me." "You never know," he mumbled stubbornly. Arguing with a drunk Poe Dameron was like talking to a wall, so she decided to not push the matter further. They had reached his door anyway. Poe stepped forward to type his code, but judging by his expression when he looked at the panel, Y/N took it upon herself to open it. "What's the code to your room?" He seemed to think about it hard for a second, frowning, rubbing his forehead, and frowning again before answering: "It's- the year I joined the Resistance." Y/N extended her hand before the answer registered in her brain, and she froze, staring at him in disbelief. "The— are you kidding me? You're the General, and your password is weak enough to be hacked by a toddler?" "Shut up."

She punched the code, and the door whooshed open. She stepped aside to let Poe go in first, and he turned on the lights to their minimum brightness. The door closed behind them.  She had never seen his room, but somehow, it was identical to what she had pictured. Way bigger than hers, it was a full suite. Tidier than she had anticipated, though. The main room they were in had its left wall covered in panels, in front of which Poe had his desk. That was a mess. There were maps and folders and countless trinkets lying around. In front of them, a couch, a coffee table, and a tropical plant added some life to it all. BeeBee was powered down in his slot in the corner, the light on his head blinking orange as he charged up. There was a double door to the right, between various shelves on which Y/N could see pictures, trophies, and personal belongings. Poe took his jacket off and threw it carelessly on the couch. "Make yourself at home." Y/N realized the situation and her alcohol consumption didn't go well together when she noticed the spot she was staring at was moving. She groaned. "Do you mind if I lie down for a sec? I think that last glass of Jawa juice hit harder than I thought." He snorted. "Bed's in the other room. You can rest for a bit. I won't be long." Y/N followed with no question until she realized, as he stepped out to shower, that she was in his room and about to get on his bed- ...Maker. She was sure she was bright red and grateful Poe wasn't here to see it. She heard the water turning on. Mindful of the room, Y/N took off her shoes and jacket, setting them on the sofa in the corner of the room. Then, she laid down. His mattress was so comfy. She sighed, pleased, and waited in silence. After a moment, she frowned. "Poe." Silence. "POE!" She repeated, louder this time. The water stopped running. "What?" Came his answer, muffled through the wall. Y/N made a point to gather her thoughts before answering. "Is your ceiling usually spinning?" He thought about it for a second, letting silence stretch on. "I don't know, you tell me." What? "How would I know? I don't sleep here!" She answered with a frown. "Well, maybe you should. Then you'd know." He turned the water on again. She thought about it for a second. It took her all of her willpower to mobilize the brain power that hadn't been drowned in alcohol. And after a few moments, she came to a conclusion. "That is the dumbest kriffing thing I've heard in my life. It doesn't even make sense, you Porg Head. What are you—" The door whooshed open, and Y/N turned her head to the side, the rest of her sentence dying in her throat as her mouth hung agape. She froze. A very wet Poe Dameron was walking out of the bathroom, naked from the waist up. He had put some grey sweatpants on that did nothing to hide his defined torso and his Adonis belt. He looked more alert, and his gait was less wobbly as he stepped inside the room, rubbing his tousled hair with a small towel. His chest was still glistening from the shower he had just taken, and he was— Maker. He was to die for.

He must have noticed her staring because he stopped, raising an eyebrow at her. "What? Please tell me I didn't accidentally walk out naked." Oh. That wouldn't have been so bad. "No," Y/N blurted out. "It's just... I... well... can you put on a shirt?" She expected him to tease her, but instead, he shrugged. "'M too lazy." He flopped down on the bed by her side, staring at the ceiling for a moment. Y/N gave him a side look, admiring his profile as he frowned softly, deep in thought. He was a work of art, carved by whatever deity was out there. The dim light of the room painted soft shadows on his features, and Y/N wasn't sure it was entirely the alcohol's fault that she was breathless now. "You're right. It's spinning a bit. Barely. Looks like the shower helped." Good for him, not so much for her. They stood there for a moment until the ceiling stopped moving. Laying down had been a good move. "Feeling better?" He asked, and she hummed. He stood up again. How he had so much energy after being so drunk earlier, Y/N didn't know. "Good, because I have some stuff to say. I... Maker, okay. You need to stop doing that." ...Doing what? Nothing? Y/N sat up slowly, but he seemed to understand her confusion. "That," he said, waving toward the wall. "What you were doing earlier. Talking yourself down. That's not... no. It's not okay." Y/N shrugged off his frustration, blissfully unaware of how deep it ran. "I mean... I'm just being honest—" "Stop it! Dammit. I know you mean it. That's the worst part. Because you say stuff like that about.. everything. And that's just not true, and I hate it." He had gotten really passionate all of a sudden, and it almost made Y/N forget he was standing there half-naked. Almost. Because his chest was at eye level, and Maker was he hot. She knew she was focusing on the wrong thing. But in her defense, Poe was not making much sense. Again, he realized it. He ran a furious hand through his hair and started pacing as he searched for his words. "You're a great person, Y/N. You're competent as a pilot AND a padawan. Well. You will be. And you're smart and kind, brave, and stunning. And you have no idea how kriffing mad it makes me hear you say you're not. Nobody had a right to say bad stuff about you. Especially not you. Kriff, when are you gonna realize it?" ... Ookay. Y/N blinked, stunned into silence by the spontaneous amount of compliments. They barely registered in her drunken mind. But what she did understand was that Poe was upset. She gently grabbed his arm as he walked past her. "Poe. Breathe," she said softly. "The alcohol is making you more emotional—" "I'm not drunk," he interrupted. "I'm tipsy. And it doesn't change anything. I mean it." "Drunk or not, it's making you say stuff you might regret," she tried to argue. Poe groaned and started pacing again.  "The only thing it does is give me enough courage to finally say and do what I mean," he grumbled. Y/N stood up and blocked his path with a hand on his shoulder. He stopped, standing in front of her, muscles tense under her fingertips. Once she was sure he wouldn't start moving again, Y/N lowered her hand, looking up at him. His eyes were unusually stormy, albeit a bit unfocused. "You're the bravest person I know, Poe. I don't understand why you'd need the liquid courage to do anything," she tried to joke. He rolled his eyes, but it was for good measure. "Yeah, yeah. Not when it comes to you. Finn was right. Fuck, I hate that he was right." Y/N frowned. She didn't understand. And the smell of his shower gel certainly didn't help her focus. "What is that supposed to mean?" She asked, curious. He stared at her for a moment, clearly weighing his options— something she could tell by looking at his lower lip that was ruthlessly being nibbled on. "Want me to show you?" He finally asked quietly, biting his lip harder. Y/N nodded. Something had changed in the air; she could pick up that much. It made her hair stand on her skin. Her inner alarm was blaring, and everything told her not to go down that path. Something in his eyes, a glimpse into his mind, frightened her. Not because she feared him but rather the implications of what would follow. "Please. Because you're not making much sense to me right now." Her self-preservation instinct flew out of the window with her voice's steadiness as it broke at the end. He gave her a crooked smile, his eyes drilling a hole in her skull. He licked his lips. "Okay. What was it you said last time? Please don't hit me?" She stared, confused. "Wha-" But she never got the chance to finish her sentence. He closed the distance between them in one step, grabbed her chin, and kissed her.

[lunar-wandering]

Delirium

@smallpwbbles happy birthday, take some delirious Wukong-

Word Count: 2k

Read on Ao3

-

MK paused in a mixture of shock, horror, and awe as he took in the sight before him.

Pigsy had his head in his hands, looking for all the world like he was totally done with the situation. Tang was standing beside him, trying to hide his increasingly obvious laughter. Mei had no such qualms, and was laughing out loud, practically on the verge of literally rolling around on the floor. Red Son stood next to her, holding up Mei's phone, which seemed to be recording, the fire demon trying desperately to look neutral to the situation, but a small smirk on the edge of his lips betrayed him, revealing his amusement. Sandy stood slightly off to the side, holding a blanket, ready to step in at any time.

And Macaque stood ramrod straight, appearing to be somewhere between 'embarrassed' and 'would somebody please strike me down already'- as Wukong leaned against him, saying a series of sloppily put together compliments.

MK took a deep breath, speed-running all five stages of grief in under an instant. (Possibly a new record for him.)

"I left. For five minutes." He said, taking note of how some places on the deck seemed to be dented, and was that smoke coming from over there? "How, exactly, did things end up like this?"

He received no answer, the others having jumped and turned to stare at him when he had spoken, having not noticed his return.

...Wait, where did Wukong-

"MK." Wukong said, and MK did his best not to jump as the delirious Monkey King appeared beside him out of nowhere and put a hand on MK's shoulder. "My, my dear su- ......succulent.....?"

"Successor." MK corrected, trying to ignore how the others were barely restraining their laughter. (Macaque, at least, looked somewhat sympathetic, but he also looked far more grateful for the fact that Wukong's attention had shifted away from him.)

"That's, yes. That's the word, yes." Wukong said, before grabbing hold of MK's cheeks, squishing them a little as he made sure MK was looking at him. "I am so proud of you."

"...Thanks?" MK said, questionably, pulling himself out of Wukong's grip. Wukong briefly glanced at his hands, seemingly confused as to where his successor had gone. "Monkey King- I'm right here. You should really be resting, until whatever this is gets out of your system-"

"Red Son!" Wukong exclaimed, the aforementioned fire demon making an audible noise of terror, slipping to hide behind Mei as Wukong spun around to face him-

Only to trip over his own two feet, slamming into the deck, denting it ever so slightly.

...For about the twenty-third time that day.

Sandy took this as his time to move forwards, gently laying the blanket down on top of Wukong, before announcing that he was going to try and make some more healing tea, (Wukong had dumped the first pot of it over the side of the ship, claiming that it was 'too bitter', 'wouldn't work anyways', and complaining that it didn't 'taste like peaches'), and the river demon left, going back down inside of the airship, leaving the others without his calming presence.

"...Okay guys, while Monkey King is....asleep..." MK wasn't even actually sure if Wukong was asleep, but he'd stopped moving and had become utterly silent since slamming into the deck, so- "I suggest we make it so that he doesn't hurt himself or us with anything on the ship." 

"What, are you suggesting we should baby-proof the entire ship?" Pigsy asked.

"...More like 'Monkey King-proof', but yes, actually, that is exactly what I am suggesting." MK said, "We're going to need to cover all of our bases-"

"Uh, kid?" Macaque interrupted, grabbing MK's attention by lightly tapping on his shoulder. "If you're going to Monkey King-proof the ship, you uh, might want to start with the railing."

He pointed to the edge of the ship, and MK followed his gaze to see-

"Oh you've got to be fucking kidding me." MK said, just catching the barest, tiniest glimpse of Wukong, wearing the blanket around his shoulders like a cape, leaping over the side of the ship. "That's the fifth time he's done that today."

-

It wasn't all that hard to find him again. All they had to do was follow the destruction a delirious, overpowered monkey leaves behind.

Or at least, that was MK, Mei, and Macaque's strategy, up until they stumbled upon a perfectly normal, entirely untouched clearing.

"...What do we do now?" Mei asked, and Macaque made to give an answer-

Only to have to jump back, barely avoiding being impaled as Wukong suddenly appeared out of the surrounding woods, carrying a rather large tree. He had twigs, leaves, and dirt all throughout his fur. The blanket was seemingly missing, but neither MK, Mei, nor Macaque really wanted to find out where it had gone. The group of three took a cautious step back as Wukong locked eyes with them.

"Wanna see how up I can lift this tree?" He said, already lifting said tree above his head. (Everyone ignored how he'd seemingly forgotten the word 'high'.) MK and Mei shared a look as Mei slowly pulled out her phone, opening up the camera.

"I mean, we really shouldn't, but..." MK said, and Wukong beamed, shifting to hold the tree with one hand, taking the chance to show off. MK and Mei 'ooh'ed and 'awe'd appropriately, but Macaque rolled his eyes and looked away.

Which cause him to miss seeing the exact moment when Wukong's strength faltered, the tree falling upon the Monkey King's back, pinning him to the ground.

Macaque certainly didn't miss Wukong's screech of terror though.

MK and Mei had froze in shock, but Macaque reacted instantly, running over to the pinned monkey. The panicked mutters of "Not again, not again, please not again-" left little doubt as to what was currently going through Wukong's mind.

Macaque practically sent the tree flying in his rush to get it off of the other, and, not knowing was else to do when that didn't immediately quell Wukong's panic, flipped him over, desperately hoping that seeing the wide open sky, with no mountain in sight, would calm the Monkey King down.

And, well, it must've done something, as Wukong quieted, blankly staring up at the sky, without blinking.

"...Are you....okay?" Macaque asked, fearing that he had made things worse as he kneeled down beside him.

"...Have I... ever told you that you have beautiful eyes?" Wukong muttered, and Macaque paused.

"Ah- no. No." Macaque said, standing up. "No, we are not doing this again- MK, come get your stupid mentor, we're going back to the ship."

-

"MK- hey- hey kid-"

"What is it now, Monkey King?" MK sighed, tired. It had been unanimous that Wukong could no longer go even seconds without being supervised, and now had to be watched at all times. MK, unfortunately, had gotten the short end of the stick and had been chosen for the first watch, (They had drawn straws, and he had not missed the sighs of relief from the others, nor had he missed how Macaque had magically changed the length of the straws. He swore he'd get that shadow monkey back somehow), which of course meant that he was the first to have to put up with the delirious Wukong's complete and utter bullshit.

"Um- Would, do you think Macaque's fur tastes bitter like his rationality?" Wukong asked, from where he was laying on his back, on the couch, yet another of Sandy's blankets set on top of him. (They'd tried to cocoon him, but after enough protesting they'd given up on it for now).

"Wh-" MK started, confused, turning the sentence over in his head to make sense of it before responding. "...First of all, no, I think it would just taste like hair, second of all, did you mean to say personality?"

"....Yes...." Wukong said, slowly, before a wicked smirk came over his face, and MK felt fear settle into his bones. "Do you wanna see me make a hair buddy-"

"No!" MK yelled, and he may have lost all his powers, including his enhanced speed, but you wouldn't have known it from the way he practically flew to stop Wukong from blowing on his hair. "You are not going to be making any clones any time soon, okay? Monkey King I need you to look at me and confirm that you will not make any hair clones while you're delirious."

"...I will not make hair buddies while I'm serious." Wukong said, and MK sighed.

"Good enough, I guess." He said, sitting back down in his chair, slumping, momentarily closing his eyes in exasperation.

When he opened them again, Wukong was gone.

"Fuck-" MK said, jumping up and spinning around-

Only to see Wukong on the other side of the room, curled up on top of the other couch. He'd somehow gotten more blankets than before too, MK was certain there had only been two in the room before, but now there appeared to be at least seven.

MK didn't want to question where and how Wukong had gotten them.

What he would like to know though, was-

"...Why did you move to the other couch?" MK dared to ask, prompting Wukong to stick his head out of the pile of blankets he had buried himself in.

"Cause this one's more soft! The other one's too....too..." He seemed to blank on the word 'stiff', and instead said; "Boney. Boney couch. Bouch."

MK took a deep breath, trying to keep himself from breaking down then and there. It was, of course, at this moment, that he noticed Red Son try to sneak pass the open the door and down the hallway.

MK didn't let him.

"Red Son!" He said, rushing over (never taking his eyes off of Wukong), and looping his arm around the demon's. Red Son squeaked, but MK ignored it as he dragged him over to stand in front of Wukong. "Perfect timing, I think it was about time for me to have a little break, y'know? Would you mind watching him for me for a moment?"

Red Son was about to say no- but the look on his face, the look of someone who was oh so close to Losing It made him reconsider.

"...Sure..." Red Son said, slowly, "So long as it's only for a bit-"

"Cool! Thanks!" MK said, immediately letting go, turning and practically sprinting out of the room. "Good luck!"

Red Son had the ever looming sense that he had just doomed himself.

(He should have never accepted their offer to join them on the ship. But dammit, MK had offered some of that spicy candy he knew Red Son liked, and the fire demon just couldn't have refused.)

For a few blissful minutes, it was silent, Red Son staring at Wukong in apprehension, while Wukong hardly seemed to have noticed that anything had changed at all, still snugly wrapped in his nest of blankets.

And then Wukong lifted his head, a questioning expression on his face.

"...Does blue exist?" He asked, and a look that was somewhere between exasperation and pure terror made it's way onto Red Son's face.

"Noodle Boy, hurry up with your break and get back in here, your mentor's going existential!" He yelled, looking in the direction MK had gone, desperately hoping that the other would come back and save him from this fate.

"You can handle it!" MK's voice called faintly.

"...If blue doesn't exist......Then red doesn't exist......so does that mean you don't exist?" Wukong asked, under his breath, looking at Red Son with fear.

"I most certainly can not handle this!" Red Son yelled, "Could somebody please get over here?"

Nobody answered his call. Red Son honestly hadn't expected them to.

After all, he would've made the exact same choice.

He sighed, rubbing the bridge of his nose, trying to figure out how to respond to the monkey that currently seemed to be having an existential crisis.

Only to jump as he heard an ear shattering scream of frustration ring through the ship.

This had the fortune of snapping Wukong out of his crisis, instead having him simply look confused. Red Son ignored the faint shouts from Macaque's room (something about 'fuck you've got a serious pair of lungs' and 'warn a guy next time') as he tried to calm himself down from the sudden scare.

Geez. MK had seriously needed that break.