#every day i tell myself i need to take a step back and chill a little

[stormyoceans]

if we're this unhinged over just the mock trailer, lord help tumblr dot com when we get the actual show. the brainrot is real rn

WE'RE ALL IN WAY TOO DEEP ALREADY WE'RE IN THE TRENCHES FIGHTING FOR OUR SANITY AND IT'S ONLY A FOUR MINUTES LONG TRAILER I CANNOT EVEN IMAGINE WHAT IS GONNA HAPPEN WHEN THE FIRST EPISODE DROPS. IM HONESTLY WORRIED FOR EVERYONE'S EMOTIONAL AND PSYCHOLOGICAL WELL-BEING AND FOR THE POOR UNASSUMING SOULS WHO WILL FIND THEMSELVES IN THE MIDDLE OF OUR BREAKDOWN

AT LEAST WE'RE IN THIS TOGETHER

[thegnomelord]

If you're up to it, I would like to request FtM reader x dragon Price, reader can be dom or sub I just need more FtM things in life besides myself😞😞 -🐆

Sure, I wasn't in the mood for porn so have some fluff. fair warning I'm not all that confident writing FTM reader so ya'll tell me if this sucks lol

CW: SFW, gender dysphoria, fluff, non sexual nudity, cuddling, scar kissing

Most day are good for you. Most days you're able to get out of bed and go about your day to day duties with confidence.

Not today.

You wake before your alarm with an unpleasant feeling in your gut, tossing and turning for an hour in hopes of falling asleep but it's useless. The morning chill only amplifies the horrid sensation — your skin doesn't feel like your own, your body doesn't feel your own. It's like roaches are crawling beneath your skin, thousands of toothpicks stabbing your nerves every time the cotton of your boxers brushes against your flawed flesh. Old words of people you once considered friends ring in your head like church bells: You're not a real man, you'll never be.

All you are, is a badly made replica in the approximation of what you want to be.

Your bones feel like they're lined with lead, every cell in your body begging you to stay under the covers in the darkness of your room for however long it takes for this feeling to go away. But the sharp ringing of the alarm forces you to rise against your wishes. You don't look at yourself when you shower, but the small glimpse of skin you catch in the mirror makes bile burn the back of your throat. Usually you're proud of your torso and the muscles you've built, but all you can think now as you put on the tight fitting army shirt is how wrong it looks on you. You try to pull on the front a couple of times in an attempt to make it baggier around your chest, before just putting on a jacket regardless that it's the middle of summer.

Recruit duty makes a bad day even worse, adding a headache alongside the discomfort and anxiety that straddle your brain. You hate how snappy and agitated you are with them, running them through grueling drills until they regret being born and have probably called you every name under the sun in their heads. The all collapse when you're finally finished with them, stepping away from them. The day's heat made you sweat like a pig, another round of bile burning the back of your throat at how your clothes stick to you.

You flinch back when a hand grabs your shoulder, quickly whirling around to look who it is with a sharp retort burning on your tongue, only to fizzle out when you're met with Price's face.

Your name sounds so right when he says it, the scent of tobacco curling in your nose as he steps closer to you, wing stretching out to subtly hang over you. "What's going on lad?" Price asks, his voice low, like taking a sip of cool water.

The question makes you hesitate, unable to meet his gaze so you fixate on counting the little chips in the concrete floor. "Just one of those days." You grunt, your voice hoarse and scratchy from belting orders all day.

Price hums in thought and then you feel his wing bump against your back, "Follow me soldier." The deep timber of his voice silences some of the dark thoughts crooning in your ears, and you're helpless to do anything but follow after him like a lost lamb. He leads you back to his room (that you haunt most nights), the place blessedly cool and dark compared to the heat outside.

The second the door closes and locks he pulls you in close, wrapping his steady arms around you and pushing your face into the pillowy bosom of his pecs. You struggle for a moment out of pure instinct, but a single call of your name makes you stop like a puppet on cut strings. He repeats your name like a caress, rolling every syllable on his tongue as his chest rumbles with a deep purr.

You melt into him, nuzzling your nose into the deep valley of his pecs and breathing in his smell. He's more intoxicating than any drug you know; beneath the scents of tobacco, dark coffee, and manly musk there's always something that your mind associates with freshly cut grass and rain on dry gravel — Comfort.

"You're so smart and clever." He croons, resting his chin on top of yours, one hand tracing the curve of your back. "But by god are you a dumb muppet." There's no edge to his words, you don't even think of fighting his admonishments. "How many times have I told you to come to me if you feel like this?"

Too many times, to be honest. You're stubborn if nothing else, you always think you can handle this on your own, you don't want to burden him whenever your mind decides to be a dick to you. "I'm sorry." You mumble into his shirt, your hands slowly wrapping around his thick waist. It always does your head in how your fingers can't quite meet in the middle of his back with how broad he is, muscle and fat shifting beneath your hands.

"Sure you are." He tuts, evidently not believing you for a second. But he doesn't pull away, tail loosely wrapping around your leg and his scent and heat enveloping you, his chest vibrating against your face. "Going to let me take care of my boy, aren't you?" The way he phrases it makes it sound like a statement, and you're unable to resist it.

Your mouth goes dry, your body stuck between wanting more and abhorring any more physical contact. But you nod your head, grumbling something probably nonsensical. And any other day you'd laugh your ass off about the fact you're practically motorboating him, but not today. Today you barely have any energy left to think.

"That's my boy." He purrs, clawed fingers gently scratching your scalp. "Shower?" He asks.

You pause, trying to string together a tangible thought. You doubt you could handle that, not with how dark and heavy your head feels. "No." You croak and nuzzle further into his chest in an attempt to hide.

"S'alright, I'm proud of you." He hums, still holding you close as he shuffles across the room with you blindly following him. "Let's get you out of those sweaty clothes, yeah?" Getting a single nod from you, he starts to slowly take off your clothes, pulling back just enough to distract you with sweet kisses. You try to help in taking his clothes off, but you feel about as useful as a small child helping his parents cook, getting a few chuckles from him.

You wind up gently pushed down on your back, spread across his bed that smells just like him and naked as the day you were born. Before the discomfort can make you shy away and try to cover yourself, he's settling down next to you, claws scraping against your jaw as he pulls you into a slow kiss. You swear you can always taste a bit of eternity every time he kisses you, so unhurried like you'll last as long as him.

"Look at you." He hums as you part, his hands sliding down your shoulders and arms to your hips. "My handsome boy." He tilts his head to kiss all over your face, trailing his lips from your brows to your eyelids, cheeks, nose, chin to wherever else he can reach. His beard is soft against your skin, evidently he'd used that beard care product you'd given him. "So strong and capable. My strong knight."

That gets the first vestige of a chuckle out of you. "Does that mean I get to lay the dragon?" You ask, your lips tugging into a small smirk. You've made that joke god knows how many times, but despite his gripes, Price loves it.

"Cheeky wanker." He huffs, his cool clawed fingers trailing along the curve of your muscles up your torso. "Later, if you're good."

A low sound escapes you when his thumbs brush the even scars beneath your pecs. "Good?" He asks, waiting for you to nod before tilting his head down, horns gently poking your skin for a second before he starts kissing along your scars. His touch is gentle like you're a precious treasure in his hoard, his lips velvet soft against the rough scar tissue. Every brush of his lips makes your skin tingle like a live wire, fire simmering in the place he kisses as he trails from one side to the other, laying equal attention on every inch of your scars.

It's pleasant. Beyond pleasant. It leaves your chest feeling so warm and full like your heart will burst through your ribcage.

You feel like a melted puddle of goo by the time he pulls away to kiss you on the lips again. You don't struggle as he lays down on his side and pulls you to him. A pleased sigh escapes you as you feel his wing drape over you like a blanket, tail curling around one of your legs and arms wrapping around your waist; like he's making sure you can't escape (not that you'd want to.)

Dragons are strange, the scales cool against your skin but his core is hot like a furnace, the duality of it calming your mind. "How are you feeling lad?" He asks, the low timber of his voice vibrating his chest.

You hum and nuzzle into his pecs, the ample chest hair tickling your face. "Better." You grunt, blindly kissing what inch of flesh you can reach. You can't keep your hands from wandering, petting the dark hair of his happy trail as your other hand traces the scales on his side. "Could feel better with a bit more attention though."

A snort leaves him, his breath ghosting over your ear. "You're insatiable." His words would be a lot more insulting if his chest didn't vibrate with a continuous purr, his tail tightening for a second before relaxing.

"You're to blame." You feel better as the words leave you, your chest light as a feather as you get to share a small laugh with him.

"Get some rest, my boy," You hum, your eyelids already starting to feel heavy as you feel him nuzzle his cheek into your hair. You don't doubt the whole base will be able to smell him on you tomorrow. "We'll see about laying dragons later."

"I love you." You murmur into his flesh, his pecs becoming the world's best pillow as you nuzzle closer. You stay awake just long enough to hear him murmur his love for you in your ear.

[themusingsofacurlyhairednerd]

In Love and War

Summary: A warlord!Rhys x Tamlin's sister!Reader AU where Hybern won the War centuries ago, ravishing Prythian and leaving the splintered Courts as nothing more than pockets of travelling war bands. Based loosely on the vibes from War by Laura Thalassa.

Content Warnings: (Each chapter will be tagged accordingly for violence, drinking, and Eventual smut) Canon typical violence, Rhys leans heavily into morally gray, kidnapping.

Author's Note: Trying something new with a first person POV, let me know what you think :)

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“Don’t come back unless you’ve brought food.”

It’s been days since that order, the rumble of my stomach the only indicator of passing time. The changing forests, the dying grasslands, the marshes, it’s all been a disappointing blur. All my traps are empty and untouched, some frozen in place as winter approaches. My father used to tell me stories of the Courts, how they were ruled by High Lords with the power to keep perpetual seasons. That was before the War, before Hybern and his General Amarantha ruined everything with the Cauldron, all for some human slaves. Father had liked to talk about the “good ole days” every night around the fire; he could spin pretty tales for hours, but that’s all they are these days. Stories. And stories don’t keep your stomach full.

I trail the deer through a stinking muck of a bog, mud and slimy water seeping in through the holes in my boots. The sludge is bone chilling, my hands shaking around my bow; teeth chattering so loud I have to clamp my mouth shut to avoid making too much noise. I need this kill and I need it fast. 

The deer stops to eat a bit of moss and I take a few more careful steps forward to get a better vantage point, cautious of where the ground sinks deeper beneath the murky water. Slipping and twisting an ankle in this mud would be dangerous, but it’s not an injury that makes my steps cautious. There are plenty of kelpie around these parts, I feel their beady little eyes watching me under the cover of a quickly approaching fog. All I need is one misstep and those spindly, webbed hands will drag me under for a quick meal.

Better a kelpie than the Highway Men I’d managed to dodge getting this far out of my brother’s territory, I suppose, but I’d rather avoid both of them if possible.

Once I’m sure of my footing, I notch an arrow to my bow. This is not the ideal place to kill it, but the rumbling of my stomach might just be too damn loud to give me another chance if I wait for it to pass out of the bog. How many days has it been since my last meal? Four? Five?

I pull the arrow back, the weathered feathers brushing my hollow cheek. 

The deer’s head jerks up, ears turning to listen to something beyond the fog and I hold my breath. The ground beneath my boots begins to rumble and the deer bolts before I can take the shot, disappearing into the gloom. A loss to mourn later, because that rumbling can only mean one thing: Horses, and a lot of them, moving right in my direction. 

I slide my bow over my shoulder and run back the way I’d come, mud sucking at my every step, slowing my progress as I try to get back to the treeline at the edge of the bog. The wet land is covered in dead and living trees alike, some as old as time, still reaching towards the sun like the ruined hands of a corpse, some fighting its inevitable demise. It’s too cold these days for the living to still have leaves, so even if I wanted to stop and climb one, I’d have no place to hide. I might as well stand there and wave my arms and alert every horseman to my location.

Still, the branches are helpful for leverage, and I grab onto the low ones and haul myself along, hoping to find shelter higher up the basin’s edge, where the water has not claimed as much. There’s plenty of underbrush there to shield me. 

The first horse appears through the fog, dark as a shadow, it’s echoing whinny chilling in the previous silence. A hooded rider sits atop the giant animal, a giant sword sheathed between his massive shoulders. 

“Shit, shit, shit,” I hiss to no one as I crouch the best I can in the open air. 

There are many warbands in Prythian these days. Some are Hybern’s men. Some Amarantha’s. The rest are what remains of the Courts. Those of us with enough magic to prove useful have been known to swear fealty and garner protection from them, but that means you get the privilege of fighting and dying for those entitled pricks who think they are owed the land their ancestors once ruled. From this far, I can’t tell who’s colors they bear, but without the, usually oppressive presence, of my brother’s own men I’m not likely to have a safe encounter. Better to wait it out and let them pass.

The first rider doesn’t see me through the fog, a small blessing that I take full advantage of by inching forward. The treeline is so close. If I am lucky, if the Mother is still out there listening and looking out for me, I can hunker down and wait.

A second rider appears through the fog, faster than the first, racing along the bog’s edge until it makes it over the ledge of the basin and disappears. The cry of their horses sound like ghosts howling in the wind. A third and fourth rider follow. I can hear even more of them, the rumble of their caravan making the ground shake, but no more appear as the fog thickens. 

A shiver runs down my spine, but still, I press forward. I’ve dodged plenty of males like this in the past, I can do the same now. I just need to be smart. And lucky.

Neither of which I am, apparently. As soon as my boots touch more solid ground, another horse appears, this time, from within the safety of the treeline I’d been so desperate to get to. The rider atop this one is as large as the first, face completely obscured by a black hood with three stars perfectly poised over his forehead, the bottom two falling where his eyes should be. 

I freeze, mind reeling back to a time years ago, when those stars had come bursting through camp, only bloodshed and destruction behind them. My hands shake at my sides as I slide backwards into the muck, slipping, barely maintaining my balance as the midnight black horse rears, hooves pawing at the air. I’d heard that terrifying whiny before too, right before my father’s head rolled out of his tent. 

My stomach rolls, bile rising in the back of my throat. This can’t be happening to me! They promised to stay away.

The rider gets his horse under control, large, gloved hands yanking hard on the reins, deep voice barking orders in the language I know belongs to the mountain men in Illyria, but had never been permitted to learn myself.

My heart hammers in my chest as I get back on my feet, head whipping back and forth trying to find a way out.  

“What’s your business here?” The rider demands, voice deep, gruff, muffled by a scarf over the lower half of his face.

“My own,” I snarl, reaching for the hunting knife at my hip. This is no one’s claimed territory, save for maybe the kelpie I hear skimming the surface at my back, I have every right to hunt here as anyone. “Now let me pass and I’ll be on my way.”

The rider swings out of the saddle and the ground shakes as his boots touch the ground. A dark mist leaks from his shoulders, shadows swirling around the sword hilt peeking out from between his shoulders and… I’d been mistaken about his size, it wasn’t just his shoulders, it was a pair of wings. Wings that had been tucked tight while he was  riding but now stretch out behind him, the leathery membrane pitted and scarred from years of battle. If I’d had doubts about who this was before, I don't now. Though I’d only seen him in glimpses that night, Tamlin had talked enough about the rival warlord over the years for me to be able to put two and two together.

A lump forms in my throat. Rhysand is even taller up close, the top of my head barely coming up to his chin. “I have nothing of value.” I’m not wearing our colors, I’m not sure if they would have helped or hindered me here, but my best bet is to just play dumb.

From the incline of his head it looks like he’s eyeing my knife, but I can’t be certain. There is some kind of enchantment over his hood, obscuring his face from view. “What’s your name?” 

“No business of yours,” I retort, tightening my grip on the knife. 

“So hostile,” he purrs. “I mean no harm.”

“Says the male with the sword.”

“If I wanted to hurt you, I would have.”

“I’m flattered,” I drawl. “How kind of you to deem me worth a modicum of decency as you block my exit.”

He takes a step forward and I take a step back, right to the edge of the water, where that damn creature hisses out a chuckle, knife poised and ready between us. He’s not wearing armor, a well placed blow could still kill him, I want him to think twice before moving any closer. Though, I suppose I must not look that imposing, considering our size difference and the sheer amount of muscle underneath that dark cloak. 

He sizes me up silently for a moment, hooded head intently fixed on the hand gripping the knife. Then, with speed enhanced even for High Fae, he’s reaching forward and grabbing my wrist as I stumble back and slam right into a tree.

It’s instinct: The punch I throw with my free hand, hitting him square in the throat, even as my heel comes down on the top of his foot. He grunts like it hurts, but doesn’t move, doesn’t let up on the grip he keeps on my wrist.

“Where’d you get this scar?” He drags a finger over the top of my hand, where I’ve got a scar shaped like an eight point star. 

“Get off me!” I shout as I try to wrench my hand free of his grip.

If his men hear, they don’t come running. There is no one here to save me--not that there has been anyone to save me in a long time anyway.

He’s wearing gloves, but with the hand not maintaining a vice on my wrist, he pushes the leather back enough to reveal a matching scar on the back of his own hand. 

All thought eddies from my mind. 

This can’t be real.

He takes the knife from my hand as if it was being held by a toddler, but much to my surprise, he slides it right back into its sheath at my hip. The move lets him lean in, large body hovering over mine. I still can’t see a glimpse of his face beneath the hood. 

“You’re my mate,” he says, voice a reverent whisper.

Mate. My heart hammers in my chest at the word, as if something beneath my skin is coming to life at the realization. The power that lies distant and untouched with me stirs, a large beast poking its head out of the den after a long hibernation. Having a mate is most women's dream--was my own, once upon a time, before the world went to hell--but not like this, not him. My world had gone to hell because of him. 

The Mother truly hates my guts.

“I’m not your anything,” I snarl as I get a hand on his broad chest and push. He’s nothing but solid muscle beneath my palm. When pushing gets me nowhere, I make a fist and hit him a good couple times. “Now let go of me, you brute!”

He chuckles, low and rich, as if this is all very amusing. “No. It’s not safe out here. You’re coming with me.”

I’d rather be eaten by the kelpie. “The hell I am!” But before I can find a way to fight him, as useless as my attempts have been thus far, he wraps a strong arm around my waist and all but tosses me into the saddle.

I reach for my hunting knife again, but a gloved hand hovers over my own, even as his other arm snakes around me to grab the reins. “Easy, mate,” he purrs in my ear. “You don’t need to be afraid of me.”

Despite myself, that voice, so close to my ear, his body warm and solid behind me, a shiver runs down my spine. “You’re fucking kidnapping me, you bastard!” I snarl, because there’s no way I’m just going along with this. “And I’m not your mate! I don’t even believe in mates.”

“You will,” he assures as he kicks his horse into moving back into the fog.

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[jflemings]

— warmth

pairing: jessie fleming x reader

synopsis: it’s still chilly in portland, but jessie’s always warm

warnings: none!!

a/n: inspired by the fact that it’s cold AS FUCK rn. this shit was meant to be a cute lil thing but noooooooo i had to go and try to outdo myself like ???? stupid ass

you were forced to leave jessie lonely in bed this morning after you snoozed your alarm for the third time. you’d reluctantly pulled yourself out of jessie’s hold and slithered out from underneath the covers to get ready for work, looking back at your girlfriend who couldn’t decide if she wanted to take advantage of the extra hour and a half she had to sleep or if she wanted to see you off to work.

she decided on both: laying around in bed whilst shamelessly ogling you as you got dressed. she had looked so sleepy, so cute, that all you wanted to do was crawl back under the covers and cuddle up to her again. you were left moping around as you put on your work clothes, grimacing once you took one look outside.

“it’s raining” you had said flatly “i can’t believe it’s raining”

“it’s fine” jessie said sleepily “just don’t get wet”

you knew by the way the end of her sentence slurred that she was well on her way back to sleep’s embrace, and there was no way you could be mad about it. between the nwsl preseason, international break, and olympics prep, it was safe to say that jessie was due for a well-earned lie in.

you made yourself a coffee to go, brushed your teeth and slipped on your shoes before going back into your bedroom to bid your canadian goodbye. she had grabbed your face with both hands and kissed you in a way that left you dizzy, before turning around and snuggling further into your pillow.

your day from there couldn’t have been described with any word other than dull. it was full of revisiting work that you had already done and taking phone calls that ended up being long-winded and drawn out — ones that could’ve just been an email had your clients had the forethought to do it.

a chill trails it’s way up your spine, the icy fingertip’s of portland’s cold air pushing themselves into every minute crack and cranny they can get through. all it does is make you want to do is crawl into bed with your human heater of a girlfriend and lay there until you physically cannot anymore. when you look at the watch on your wrist you have to resist the urge to run out of the building. instead, you pack your bag hastily and ignore the shrill call of your coworker chris begging to get drinks with everyone from across the room.

you double check — triple check, because that’s a habit you picked up from jessie — that you’ve got everything you need before speed walking to the elevator. you bounce on your toes impatiently and shoulder your way into the (thankfully) empty elevator, hitting the button for the parking garage numerous times before willing the doors to close quicker to avoid awkward small talk with max, a guy that you’re certain doesn’t realise you’re a lesbain despite the photos of jessie plastered all over your office.

you see his unruly blonde hair pass you as the doors close and let out a breath before watching the floor numbers go down. the concrete cold air of the parking garage makes you shiver again when the doors open, making you curse yourself under your breath for not just bringing the extra jacket like the little voice in your head told you to. you tell the little voice to shut up before you get to your car and crank the heat, hastily pulling out of your designated parking spot and almost speeding out onto the main road.

three red lights, someone who doesn’t know how to use their indicator, and a frustratingly slow start to the afternoon rush hour later you’re pulling up to your apartment building. the rain has let up long enough for you to from work to home, but as soon as you step through the threshold of your new home, it’s pelts again.

it hammers against the windows and you slump against the door. you were cold, tired, and in desperate need of jessie cuddles, something that you were keen to seek out once you heard the tv in your bedroom going.

you pad down the hall and see her exactly where you left her: snuggled up in bed, head laying on your pillow and hair thrown about like she’d been trying to get comfortable. she pulls her attention away from the tv and immediately opens the covers up for you, only to frown when you don’t immediately jump into her arms.

“what are you doing?” she asks as you toe off your shoes and begin to unbutton your trousers.

“i’m getting out of these clothes” you say not looking at her “i’ve been in them all day and i can’t be in them for a second longer” you stress, throwing your socks, trousers and shirt into the hamper.

jessie frowns as she watches you grab out an oversized chelsea hoodie and an old pair of pyjama pants she’s tried to get you to throw out multiple times. you also grab a pair of fluffy bed socks — the ones she got you this past christmas after you’d stolen hers when you went to canada — and flip the bed covers up at the bottom.

she watches you crawl up her body under the covers, flinching slightly when your cold fingers graze the exposed skin of her hips. you settle on-top of her, your legs straddling her hips as your head lays firmly on her chest.

one of her hands is instantly in your hair, massaging your scalp slightly as you settle all of your weight on top of her.

“bad day?” she asks quietly.

you nod against her “too cold. needed jessie time all day”

a laugh vibrates through her chest as her heart skips slightly at the sound of you saying you needed her. you love hearing her heart do that, it makes her all the more real when she feels like a dream.

“you can have jessie time whenever you want” she says as she wraps her arms securely around you.

you slide off her front and mould yourself against her side, one leg thrown over her own as your head finds it’s spot in the crook of her neck. jessie pulls one of your arms around her middle before wrapping her own around your back, pushing you slightly onto her.

you hum in her neck and breathe in deep before placing small kisses along the side of her neck. the midfielder can’t help but giggle at the ticklish contact, squishing her cheek against you “stop” she whines whilst pulling you further into her.

you relent and bury your face further into her neck “can we order in” you mumble into her warm skin “too cold to move, need to stay on top of you”

jessie scratches your scalp with her blunt nails whilst also running a hand up and down your thigh idly “thai sound good?”

“thai sounds amazing”

[billsbabydoll]

“𝓎ℴ𝓊𝓇 𝓊𝓃𝒻𝒾𝓍𝒶𝒷𝓁ℯ, 𝒸𝒶𝓃𝓉 𝒷𝓇ℯ𝒶𝓀 𝓉𝒽𝓇ℴ𝓊𝑔𝒽 𝓎ℴ𝓊𝓇 𝓌ℴ𝓇𝓁𝒹.”

contains:HARSH ANGST+SMUT<3

summary:finally getting sick of bills toxicity and instability, i packed up all of my belongings and planned to “leave him” as i stupidly told myself, only to find myself easily falling back into his same hypnotizing trap.

WARNINGS:abusive relationship, fighting, arguing, manipulation (I DO NOT CONDONE ANYTHING THAT HAPPENS in this story, this story is ONLY for entertainment purposes!!!), very narcissistic and misogynistic bill, hard-dom!bill, dumb-sub!reader, p in v (against the wall), degrading, pet-names, LIGHT choking, heavy breeding kink.

notes:as someone who has experienced theses types of situations firsthand, if you ever do find yourself in these kinds of circumstances please take the initial steps to get yourself out that relationship immediately, youll be fine i promise love ya!

HEAVY THEMES AHEAD!

“yeah go fucking cry about it you sensitive bitch, get the fuck outta’ my face!”bill loudly shouted at me from the living room as i ran and locked myself into our shared bedroom, tears streaming profusely down my cheeks, as i tumbled onto the bed and proceeded to curl myself up into a small pathetic ball.

im tired of living like this, being so isolated, feeling so trapped, being so mentally and physically drained, having to constantly walk around eggshells around him.

me and bills relationship was a perfect fairytale in the beginning, but quickly came burning down in flames and burnt down to pure ashes at his rage.his anger completely undoing every single precious thing he ever once said to me.

every “i love you.” or “i cant wait to start a life with you.” was once a simple loving string of words now being dangled high above over my head as a reminder of his broken promises.

i still cling onto that small glimmer of hope that he could change some-day, that he could love me again, or that he could simply hold me without hurting me.

i lay in my own pity for a long grueling hour before i decide to slowly unraveled myself from my position, gently getting up from the bed, wiping the tears from my eyes telling myself,

“i need to leave,

right now.”

i kick into full panic mode and immediately start changing into a dark colored tracksuit and a comfortable pair of sneakers, then i rummage through our closet grabbing random handfuls of my belongings stuffing my suitcase to the brim.

i quietly creak the bedroom door open and make my way through the dark hallway, my luggage in one hand as i try to rush towards the front door.

“going somewhere babe?”he eerily questioned, his evil presence immediately sending cold chills down my spine.

“i-i-uhm..”i mumbled trying to find some kind of explanation but it was if something was struck in my throat, i looked like a child who just got caught with my hand in the cookie jar.

“im leaving!”i managed to spit out, slowly turning to face him.

“oh your leaving?”he responded in a cartoonish voice mocking my own,chuckling manically at my response.

he crosses his arms over his chest as he cockily looks me up and down, he then quickly steps forward grabbing me by my chin with his right hand, yanking a fistful of my hair with his left.

“cant you see THIS is the life i promised you honey?you know no-ones ever gonna buy you all those pretty dresses you like wearing f’me, provide for you like i do, or keep a GODDAMN roof over your head like i do!”

what he was saying was true, without him i wouldnt have a single penny to my name. he took care of every expense, he even had me on a monthly allowance but he didnt do anything of it out of the goodness of his heart he rather used it to his advantage knowing hed always win.

“i know i know but, i-im tired of you being like this bill, im sick of it!i swear ill give it all back if thats what you really want!”i nervously murmured, his grip on my chin and hair tightening.

“your such an ungrateful brat, you dont even deserve to be breathing the same air as me, i shouldve just throw you out months ago like the trashy bitch you are.”

he yelled into my face before slamming me against the wall letting go of some of his grip on me as he pulled down his pants and boxers along with my sweatpants and panties.

“you wanna be treated like a worthless whore ill fucking treat you like one then.“

he wrapped one of his arms strongly around my neck keeping me in place, as he teased his cock in between my slicks folds, causing me to softly whimper.

“aww…look at you poor baby, you just wanted some attention huh, want me to fuck you isnt that right?”he purred squeezing my neck firmly in his arm, sliding his length harshyinside my walls.

though i hated to admit it, it truly turned me on how possessive and upset he got when i tried leaving it showed me he still sort-of cared.the fact he still had enough respect to still fuck me was enough to have me eating right out of his palm, anytime he showed me the slightest bit of affection it casted his spell over me all over again.

he continued thrusting his full length inside my cunt, beginning to aggressively pound away, my head banging against the cold wall.

“ugh-i shouldnt even be mmhtouching you right now ungrateful bitch!”he shouted, his free hand slapping my ass sure enough to leave hand prints the next morning.

“f-fuck fuck, im ughh-yours baby!”i moaned out, tears beginning to spill from my eyes, his tip kissing my cervix perfectly.

“das ist r-richtig, mhm!du gehst verdammt noch mal nirgendwo hin(thats right, your not going fucking anywhere),

gonna fill you all up, hopefully y-you get pregnant that way your ugh-stuck with me!”

the sound of our moans combined with the banging on the wall echoing throughout the house, the faint tv not even being enough to cover his disgusting insults and my foul cries.

“b-bill ugh please i c-cant!”

“take my f-fucking cock mm-my little cum slut!”

his hips bucking into mine at an animalistic pace as he urgently chases his release, my walls deliciously clenching around his girth, sending him immediately over the edge.

“scheibe scheibe scheibe(shit shit shit!)”he yelled out suddenly fucking his cock deeper inside my sweet walls, ropes of his seed oozing deep inside my pussy.

“ich w-werde ganz in dir abspritzen du mmh-dumme s-schlampe, ich werde dich mit meinem verdammten baby schwängern(im gonna cum all inside you, stupid slut, im gonna get you pregnant with my baby!)”he adds breeding his cum inside me with a few final thrusts, pulling his length out of me with a loud pop.

bill then releases me from his arm allowing me to slam down onto the floor, pulling his pants up smugly as he knelt down to my level.

“next time im beating the fuck outta’ this was me playing nice, understood? now go make me some dinner before you piss me off again.”

i nod my head instantly at his demands, rubbing the side of my cheek that hit the ground.

“such a good little girl, i love you.” he praised grinning widely down at me before getting back up and walking away from me.

“i love you too.”

and the cycle continues.

THE END.

[ibetonlosinghuskies]

hiiiiii! Some one shot requests for Pazzi! I love seeing Paige hurt and azzi comforting so anything like Paige being sick and Azzi there for her, Paige getting hurt in practice and Azzi worried, Paige getting benched and Azzi supporting her❤️

hi hi, thank you for all the reqs!! i swear sometimes you guys live in my brain, one of the other two will be present in the upcoming chapters, but here’s this for now 🤭

fever dreams (bonus chp)

summary: paige is sick so azzi takes a surprise visit to uconn to comfort her.

cw: just fluff

a/n: sry this is so short, i wrote this at the beach so it’s not really formatted or spell checked sry!!

paige's pov:

my head spins as i open my eyes, immediately regretting my decision. an ache throbs in my head, my throat feels like sandpaper, and every muscle in my body feels tender.

i hadn't been feeling good after practice yesterday, but i had attributed it to the usual pains of conditioning. i knew it was gonna take some getting used to, but this was a different kind of pain.

i swept my sheets over my legs, trying to take my first step. my foot hits the ground, and i become aware of how warm my skin is. a chill runs through my skin, my bones ache at the weight of my body.

i can't ignore it anymore, i'm definitely sick.

a sharp dread works its way through my stomach, relentless and unforgiving. i feel nauseous at the thought of telling coach i had to miss practice already.

it's only been a few weeks into summer workouts with the team, and i'm already gonna get benched. coach is going to kill me. i squint at my phone, the brightness sending a searing pain through my head.

a few missed calls from mom, a couple of insta dms, a handful of texts from my teammates. but my heart sinks when i see no messages from azzi.

my first instinct is to call her, to let her voice soothe my sickness through the phone. just the thought of her soft cadence coats my mind like cough syrup down my throat.

god, i wish she was here.

it's only really been a few weeks since i left minnesota but i couldn't help but feel like we were drifting day by day. she'd called me the first few nights, but things felt different. we were still us, just muffled through the static of my phone.

i know i should've told her i'm sick, but part of me hopes she'll reach out first. i shoot a quick text to geno then close my eyes, hoping to drift away from the pain.

i fall asleep quickly, heavy with sickness. my sleep is light, burdened by the fever and chill of my body. my fever makes me kick the sheets off, just to immediately put them back on after my skin chills.

a soft knock pulls me from my feverish haze, and i blink slowly. all the light in my room has dimmed as the sun cast it's final warmths from outside. i drag myself to the door, every step a conscious effort.

when i open it, i squint in disbelief. azzi stands there, or at least i think she does. worry flickers through her expression as she scans my body. my head feels fuzzy, the edges around her features softened, blurred.

am i dreaming? this can't be real.

"azzi?" i whisper, my voice barely audible. "what-" my throat aches, voice cracking at the first syllable.

even in my dreams, i'm still nervous around her.

i reach out, half-expecting my hand to pass right through her. my fever must be worse than i thought, conjuring up the one person i've been longing to see.

please be real. please be mine for a day.

my hand reaches her forearm, solid and warm. a rush of gratitude wades over me, and for a moment, the pain ceases.

she's here. she's actually here.

"oh honey," she calls out empathetically, "is it that bad?" she pulls me in for a hug, squeezing at my waist. the cool touch of her fingers against my back is soothing, like she carried acetaphetamine under her fingertips.

i didn't realize how much i needed this until now.

i lean into her, resting my cheek on her shoulder. i turn my head, burrowing myself into her neck. i take a deep breath, inhaling her scent. a sweet familiar vanilla and something else uniquely her. my voice muffled by her skin as i speak, "are you real?"

i feel her laugh at this, "yeah, paige. i'm really here," she says, her voice soft but clear. "your mom called me. she said you were sick and all alone."

my heart races at the thought of my wellbeing being her catalyst to come all this way. i imagine her packing a bag, careful and deliberate. reading on the plane, asking my mom for directions, knocking at my door.

she came here for me. she dropped everything and came to see me.

"let's get you back to bed," azzi says softly, wrapping an arm around my waist to hold the weight of my body. she sets me down on my bed, her eyes carefully scanning my movements as i tuck myself in. i pull the sheets over my chin, looking up at her.

she's so pretty, so kind.

she reaches the back of her hand to my forehead, pressing softly for a moment. "you're burning up," she says empathetically. "i'll be right back okay?"

i almost want to reach out and pull her close, tell her she’s the only thing i need. but i let her go, she grabs something from her bag and walks towards the bathroom.

when she returns she places a cool cloth on my head, holding my cheek in her hand. the cloth is nice but it’s her touch that’s really soothing. her careful, loving hands both soothes and brings a new ache to my body.

i worry i’ll never be cured from the ache of needing her.

“thanks az,” i whisper, giving her a soft smile. “mhm,” she hums, “do you want some tea? it should help your throat.”

“oh you don’t have to-” i start, but she’s already heading for the sink.

“do you want lemon or no?” she calls out from the kitchen. i’m impressed, she really thought of everything.

“sure,” i croak out, trying not to strain my voice. in the few short minutes she’s gone, i feel my eyelids grow heavy. i lay my head down, slowly drifting back to sleep.

azzi’s pov:

i pour the hot water into the cup, letting the tea seep. i wrap my hands around it, taking in its warmth.

i walk out towards her, talking to myself, “i brought green tea too but it has caffeine and i figured you should sl-”

she’s already passed out, her blonde hair thrown lazily over her shoulders and face. i watch her chest rise and fall, her eyelashes flutter slightly. even in the dim light of her dorm, she glows.

she’s so beautiful.

i’m almost grateful she’s so deep in sleep she doesn’t catch me staring. i set the mug on the nightstand quietly, climbing into bed with her.

despite my best efforts, she feels the bed shift and takes a few sleepy blinks. once i lay down, she puts her head on my shoulder curling into my body.

it’s a rare moment of stillness for paige, who’s usually so full of life and energy. a wave of tenderness washes over me.

i want more of this, of us.

the depth of my feelings for her scares me, but in moments like this, it feels like the most natural thing in the world.

her breathing has evened out now, a gentle rhythm. it brings me peace to know i might have brought her some sort of comfort.

the weight of her head on my shoulder sends a wave of sleepiness through me. i wrap my free hand around her back, stroking my thumb across her back. holding her tight, i let myself sleep.

…

when i wake a few hours later, i realize she’s interlocked our hands. her messy hair scatters across my chest.

we’re so close i’m afraid my breathing might wake her. i pull my other hand to feel the cloth on her head. i should change it, it’s already grown warm. plus she probably needs to take some medicine before she sleeps for the rest of the night.

i run my hand down her back, trying to wake her. “paige,” i brush some of her hair out of her face. she’s a deep sleeper, she probably can’t even hear me.

i shake her shoulder a little rougher now, “okay sleepy, time for some medicine.” she blinks slowly, looking up at me, “hm?”

“i bought allergy meds and cough syrup,” i say, starting to sit up.

i reach for my bag pulling out both. i start with the allergy meds, putting two pills in the palms of my hands.

“here,” i hand them to her, reaching for her tea.

she examines the pills in her hands, rolling them around. “these look big,” she complains, mumbling.

"paige, you cannot be almost twenty years old and not know how to swallow a pill,” i tease.

"i can swallow a pill. it’s just that these are bigger than the normal ones,” she protests.

"above average," i put the pill in her hand. "now, swallow."

"that's what she said,” she coughs, laughing.

i feel a smile flicker across my lips. "not to you," i quip, poking her side.

her jaw drops for a moment before closing to pout her lips. "be nice to me, i'm sick," she mumbles.

god, she’s cute.

hearing the rasp in her voice softens my expression “i know, honey. i’m sorry, i just want you to feel better.”

she nods, finally taking the tea from my hands. she winces as she swallows. i put my hand on her back, stroking softly.

“good job,” my hand lingers for a moment too long before i pull it away.

“do you wanna watch a movie? i have love and basketball downloaded on my laptop,” i ask, reaching for my laptop.

"how you gonna come over to take care of me then play your favorite movie?" she croaks, her voice still raspy.

"see you’re already feeling good enough to argue with me," i smile, putting on the movie anyways.

like always, we fall into a comfortable silence. i hold her close, tracing the lines on her palms with my fingertips.

it isn’t long until i feel her start to fall asleep again. she closes her eyes, “please stay,” she mumbles into my shoulder.

of course, i’ll stay. i’d stay here forever if i could.

“i’ll be here when you wake up, okay?” i take her face in my palms, kissing her forehead. “get some rest.”

“promise?” she asks, her soft blue eyes stirring up emotion deep inside me.

i wanna kiss her again. like really kiss her.

“i promise,” i whisper back, running my hand through her hair.

as i watch her drift back to sleep, i come to a realization. i came all this way to take care of her, but being here, holding her in my arms, feeling needed- it’s healing something in me too.

maybe she’s all i need.

[sluttysnowangel666]

Chapters 10, 11, & 12 of The Song of Blackwoods & Brackens

cw: smut, cursing, violence, vomiting

This story is written BY ME and I do not consent or give permission to it being posted or translated anywhere else. thank you for supporting your writers <3

find the other chapters here

Chapter 10: Shame, Shame, Shame

19 days before the battle of the burning mill

𐂃 𐂃 𐂃 𐂃

It had been days since I'd seen Benjicot.

The ache in my heart had not let up. I was so ashamed at how much of a fool I made of myself, and I felt as though I could no longer keep up the lie. But, each day I continued to go without seeing him was another day it felt as though my heart was going to shatter. I could not help the tears that began to stain my pillow every night.

After the incident at the brothel, I refused to return to the court yard along the border, instead training with Bracken men.

I also used the extra time to do duties a lord would do. Thankfully, Stone Henge did not have many. There were no council meetings to sit in on since my brother and uncle were gone, I did not need to clean as we had servants to do that, and I was not particularly keen on reading Bracken lineage. I had spent the last week lying around, thinking only of Benjicot and the night at the brothel.

Later in the day, I received word from my uncle who was only less than a week away from reaching King's Landing.

Dearest niece,

I will be arriving in King's Landing in less than half a fortnight. You are to still be preparing for your leave to Casterly Rock. Your brother will return immediately following our meeting with His Grace. When your brother arrives back to Stone Henge, go to Casterly Rock at once.

Uncle

Very short and sweet.

———

While I had been able to avoid Benjicot by hiding inside Bracken territory, I would no longer be able to during my border patrol.

The boy doing it prior had stepped into a divot along the stones and broke his ankle, when no other men volunteered to take his place, I had no choice but to step up.

I started my patrol in the early morning, usually around what time I trained with Benjicot. It was very early dawn, the sun not even peaking out the horizon. The sky was a deep, but not navy shade of blue. It was that time when it is most beautiful, most calm, most eerie. The birds quietly began to chirp, signaling the soon break of the sun. The bugs ceased their chirping, and the owls quieted their calls.

The air was so crisp and fresh. The humidity had not yet creeped its way in to make the lands stink of cattle. There was almost a chill in the air, and I embraced it. I could not help but wonder if I was stolen at birth by the Brackens. Perhaps, I was a true Northerner.

If only I were that fortunate.

"You!" A voice, filled with venom yells.

I whip my head, knowing immediately who it is. "Benji-"

"Training, and training, and training. Time I could be spending on my land, caring for MY people and instead I help you train. I help you train, even though you're a bloody lost cost. Then, you run away. Because you're too much of a whiny cunt to see the real world." He yells, panting by the end of it. "After all I've done... You could've just said you weren't coming back... You could've just said you weren't really my friend... I've waited here, day after day, night after night for you."

"Benji..."

"Don't call me that."

"I am your friend. I... I'm sorry I didn't come back. It wasn't your fault. I... I promise. I just got scared."

"Scared of what?" He asks. I hesitate. "Tell me... Aeron."

He's giving me my chance... But, I can't do it. I can't tell him.

"I'm just... not ready to be a lord. I'm not ready for all the responsibilities that come with it. It all felt too real. It all hit me when we were there... at the brothel."

"Must I train you on how to be a lord as well?" He asks, sarcastically, but I can tell he likely means it.

"Maybe." I chuckle, "I'm sorry..."

"It will be dark for one more hour." He says, "Let's pick up where we left off."

——————

Chapter 11: The Dornish Wine

cw: talks of smut but no actual, vomiting

12 days before the battle of the burning mill

𐂃 𐂃 𐂃 𐂃

"You're really improving, Bracken."

I nearly melt into a puddle at Benjicot's sweet words. They were few and far in between, so I always made a point to savor them when they seldomly occurred.

"I've been practicing that trick you taught me."

Since Benjicot and I's argument from last week we had managed to put it behind us, focusing only on our training.

At least during the day.

At night, Benjicot took us exploring.

After the incident at the brothel, I knew I was beginning to tread a fine line. Because of that, I had to make sure I was playing my part full heartedly to not around any more suspicions from Ben.

I kissed maidens, I fondled them, I wove my fingers through their hair, and wove my tongues past their lips. Perhaps one day, the lips I kissed would stop being brothel maiden's and become Benjicot's instead.

I was growing obsessed with him. Each day we spent training, each night we spent drinking, we grew closer and closer; physically and emotionally.

He knocked me down, he pulled me up, he bought our drinks, filled our cups. I found myself getting lost in his eyes, entangled in the words that spilled from his honey coated lips.

"Bracken." His voice breaks my trance.

"Huh?"

"I said ready your sword."

"Oh, sorry." I say. He smiles softly.

"Where'd you go?" He asks.

I pause, "Uh... nowhere. Sorry. Thinking about tonight, I guess."

"Oh, about that. Let's skip the brothel tonight. A shipment of Dornish wine just came in. It's a little sweet for my taste but does the job better than the watered down brothel ale." He says, a small blush coming across his cheeks.

I giggle softly, "Okay. By the weirwood again?"

"No. Meet me by the boundary stones tonight." He says, he turns around facing away from me, and in a swift motion he turns right back around wielding his sword.

I block it and force him backwards, laughing and swinging to land the blow. We fight with our swords, laughing and kicking our feet at each other.

"You're a fool." I say to him, and he laughs.

Our walks to and from our training spot used to be quiet and tense. Now, during the entire hour we spent walking we found new things to talk about.

Today, however, he began asking about me.

The real me.

"I've never heard much of your sister. For a long time I didn't know you had one." He said, as we trekked through the weeds and sticks back to our lands.

"Oh, yeah. We're twins actually."

"No shit." He says, but as more of a statement rather than a question. "What's she like?"

"Oh, you know how high born ladies are," I begin my lie, "They sew and they swoon and they... you know, whatever else it is they do."

"Hm." He doesn't believe me. "And your sister is one those high born ladies?"

"Yes." I say, attempting to end the conversation. But, he continues.

"What's her name?"

"Why do you care?" I ask, sharply. He shrugs, smirking smugly.

I sigh, "Y/N."

It almost feels good saying it out loud.

"Is she a hostage?"

"No. What? Why the bloody hell would you ask that?"

"I've never seen her. I don't fully believe she exists."

"Maybe she doesn't."

"Hm." He hums, "The forgotten Bracken daughter. Useful only when it's time to be sold off to the highest paying lord."

I say nothing. Neither does he.

We arrive back at the boundary stones, the last 10 minutes of the walk had been quiet after that conversation ended.

"Be back here tonight. About one hour after dusk."

Then, he turns and leaves.

———

I sit in the dark upon the boundary stones, kicking my feet back and forth against them. His words echoed in my mind. I was upset, angry. They were painfully true.

My brother would be returning soon, likely within the fortnight. And after that, I would never see Benjicot again.

"Bracken." I turn and see Benjicot, holding up a large flagon of wine. "Ready to see what the Dornish are made of?"

I laugh, my mind immediately forgetting my worries.

"Follow me." He says, and turns back to his land and starts walking.

"We're drinking on your land?" I ask.

"Scared?" He turns and asks with a smirk. He turns back around and keeps walking, not waiting to see if I'm following. I slowly trudge behind him, slightly afraid of someone noticing me. Bracken or Blackwood.

We didn't go very far thankfully. He lead me to a row of tents, likely meant for their army.

They weren't being used, so he brought me into the nicest one. It was large, filled with tables and weapons, as well as a few cots.

I laid back on one of the cots, and Benjicot took a seat upright on the one next to me, immediately drinking the flagon.

His face twisted at the sweetness before he handed it over to me. I drank and contorted mine as well, not yet used to the strong, sweet flavor. I coughed a little and cleared my throat. "Gods. They bloody know well how to make a fruity wine."

"On that much, we agree." He says, taking it back and taking another swig. "Let's play a game."

"A game?"

"A game." He affirms, "A Lannister taught me it."

I groaned, "Forget it, then. I hate Lannister's."

He smirks, "Any reason in particular?"

I sigh and take the wine, "No."

"Let's play then."

"Fine. What are the rules?"

"If I guess a fact correct about you, you drink. If I'm wrong, I drink."

"This sounds stupid."

"Indulge me." He says. I sigh, accepting defeat. He begins, "You're a virgin."

"That's not fair, you knew that already." I say as I take a drink.

"You... despise your family."

I sigh again, taking another drink.

"You love your twin... Much more than you let on."

I drink again, "Okay, it's your turn now, Blackwood."

He takes the bottle and stares at me intently.

"You... aren't a virgin." He drinks, and my heart sinks a bit. "Who was she?"

"That's not how the game works."

I repeat his words, "Indulge me."

"She was a high born girl who was passing through. My family hosted hers. We were young. We snuck into the woods. I took her maiden head."

"Is that why they call you Bloody Ben?" I ask, venom on my tongue.

He raises his eyebrows slightly, "No, it's not, and what do you care so much about it anyway? Are you jealous because you've never been with a lady?"

"No, now drink, because you were wrong about me being jealous."

"I won't drink because I know you're lying. Give me the next question."

"You don't like being called Bloody Ben."

"Wrong. I love it. Now drink." He says, pushing the bottle back towards me. My stomach begins to bubble, the sweetness starting to taste rancid each time it goes down.

"Your turn, again. You're rather shit at this game." He teases. "You don't like women."

I swallow, "Wrong."

"Don't lie." He says, firmly.

I drink. He smirks

"You believe in the true Queen." He says. I drink, the feeling growing worse and worse in my stomach. I feel all my day's indulgences beginning to rise in my throat.

"You're no true Bracken." He smirks.

For some reason, those words push me over the edge.

I vomit all over his legs. "Oh, seven hells, Bracken!" He curses.

"Fuck, I'm sorry." I manage to cough out. I turn and leave the tent as fast as I can.

For some reason I sprint, which doesn't help, and I don't get far.

I fall to my knees, vomiting more and more. I can't help but begin to cry. The embarrassment, the stress, the realization is too much to handle.

"Fucking seven!" I curse, sobbing on my hands and knees, drool spilling from my lips. The dark violet vomit from the fruity wine is all over me, and I reek of tangy and acidic fruit.

I feel a hand rest on my back. I know he probably just witnessed this whole thing, which doesn't help the embarrassment.

"Gods, Bracken, is there anything you can handle?" He asks, as I vomit more. More and more continues to come until I dry heave, the whole time Benjicot rubs his hand up and down my back.

"You're alright, you're alright." He drags me up, although I'm dead weight in his arms. I cry and cry and cry. And when he can't get me to stand on my feet, he drags me all the way back to the boundary stones.

We reach the boundary stones and he finally falls, sitting on the ground. 

He pulls me between his legs, placing his arms around me. He rests his chin on my shoulder, "Calm down, it's okay, Bracken."

"I don't wanna leave!" I drunkenly sob, "You're my best friend. Don't let them take me, Benji." I grip his arms, holding them close to me so they'll never leave me again.

"Sh, sh. I'm here." He hushes, and then sighs as if he chooses his next words carefully. "I think you're gonna be the death of me, little Bracken."

——————

Chapter 12: The Secret

cw: slight smut, more to come tho 🤫

(the moment we've all been waiting for, the slow burn is OVER)

𐂃 𐂃 𐂃 𐂃

-11 days ago-

I opened my eyes. Darkness enveloped my vision, but I could faintly see torches in the distance.

I groaned. My head was pounding, I was incredibly dizzy, and I'm sure if I had anything in my stomach I would have been vomiting it up.

A pained gasp left my lips as I sat up, which awoke Benji, who I hadn't even noticed was sitting directly behind me, his arms around me.

"Take it slow." He says, softly, his voice raspy from sleep.

"Gods," I managed to get out, my voice was hoarse from all the crying and vomiting. "What... Where are we?"

"Still at the stones. I dragged you here."

I turn and face him. We were dangerously close. "I am so, so sorry-"

"Don't apologize." He stands, a cold chill runs up my back where his warmth just was.

"About what I said-"

"I think we should get you home before you say anything else too complex for me to understand." He says. I nod.

He pulls me up slowly, the earth spinning beneath my feet. "You got it?"

I nod, but he keeps his arm hooked under my armpit anyway. It's good he did too, because I was lying. If he had let me go, I might not have gotten back up.

He basically carried me in near darkness all the way back to my castle, despite the risk of us getting caught.

We got to the door and I rested my weight onto the wall.

"Will you be okay from here?" He asks.

"Yes." I sigh, "Thank you, Ben."

He smiles, "I'll see you tomorrow. Be sure you rest well today."

I nod as I watch him turn and walk back to his lands, the sun slowly beginning to rise beyond him.

I don't know why but seeing him walk on my land, the sun gleaming beyond him yet brightening his dark curls... I felt hope.

———

Present

1 day before the battle of the burning mill

Benjicot, the sweetest boy, had managed to forget about my foolish actions again. He'd never brought up the night with the wine, never teased or made fun of me, and never mentioned how he held me in his arms as we fell asleep.

We continued our training in the day, but I was no longer invited out after dark. I can't say I blamed him for no longer wanting me in his company when it came to drinking.

In combat, I was improving greatly. So much to the point he wanted to pause on swordsmanship and train me with a bow and arrow.

"How do you know how to use one of these?" I ask as he pulls out a large wooden bow from the tent, the same one we drank in. Someone had cleaned up my mess, maybe even him.

"My aunt is one of the best in the seven kingdoms at using this." He said. "While I work better with a sword, I've been trained on this as well."

He hands me the bow. I run my fingers along the smooth wood, stopping to trace the Blackwood sigil carved in the middle. "It's beautiful."

He says nothing. He had been quiet the past week. I believed the reasoning to be he had heard the news of my house declaring for Aegon. I tried to avoid talks of politics with him, but he always brought them up, questioning my opinion specifically.

It hurt not hearing his voice as often as usual. Our walks had become quiet again. I was running out of time with him, as my brother would return in days.

He grabbed the quiver holding the arrows and walked past me, not even looking in my direction.

I followed him anyway, head lowered like a scorned little dog. His silence made me feel small. I knew he was displeased with me.

He walked towards the targets, removing old arrows from previous shooters.

His land was empty, save for us. Most men had gone inside for supper or to drink. The sun would be setting within a few short hours. No one had any reason to stay outside.

He takes, rather snatches, the bow from me. He pulls an arrow from his back, raises his arm, and hits the target right in the middle.

"Wow." I whisper quietly. He hands it back to me.

"Raise it." I pull it up and he guides me, "A little higher."

His hand rests under my elbow as he softly continues to guide my arm. "There. Now take your other hand..."

He grabs my hand and rests it on the string, adjusting my fingers to the necessary positions. "Arrow between these two fingers, when you're ready to shoot move the first one so the arrow glides without catching your finger."

He positions himself directly behind me. He's so close that his chest is against my back.

"I'll guide you for the first one." He says. He pulls the arrow and places it on the bow, his fingers rest on top of mine on the string.

He lowers himself so our faces are at the same level. His lips are right behind my ear. I can feel his breath against my hair.

"Pull back." He says softly. I'm losing my breath. I do as he says but my hands are shaking. He surely notices.

"Stop shaking." He grips my fingers slightly.

"Hold..." He says softly. I'm panting by this point. Gooseflesh covers my arms.

"Before you shoot, take it slow. Breathe in as you pull back, breathe out as you let go. Focus." He says, slowly and gently.

I do as he says, and he mimics my breathing. His hand gently leaves mine, and rests under my elbow that's cocked back.

"Think of it as an extension of you." He says, "You and the bow... are one."

I release, and the arrow flies.

Right into the center.

He steps back, and for the first time all week I see him smile at me.

"You're a natural."

I blush as he continues, "I should have known from the beginning when you should've been using your left hand."

He pauses, "You were never meant to wield a sword, but a bow."

"Ben, I-"

"We can work on that more tomorrow." He turns and walks back towards the tent, not giving me the chance to finish.

"Ben!" I run after him, struggling to keep up with his long strides, even though he's only walking.

He walks into the tent and I follow after him. I go to speak, but I can't. Nothing comes out.

My heart is racing. I feel so terribly, terribly nervous. I don't know why. Why do I feel so much dread?

He sets the bow on the long table and turns back to face me, resting his lower back against the table, awaiting whatever it is I have to say.

"I just wanted to thank you... for everything you've taught me." I say. He nods. "Um... I believe you've helped shape me into who I truly am."

He scoffs at that, I raise my eyebrow slightly, but continue anyway. "Today will be the last time we see each other... Lord Blackwood."

"Running back to Uncle Bracken when he returns? Gonna have him tuck you in and kiss your cock?" He says, rudely.

"I... what? What's your problem?"

"You're my problem, Bracken. You always have been."

"Then why'd you train me, for seven sake?"

"I don't know. I guess I'm just a bloody fucking fool."

"Do you want me to apologize then? I don't know what you want from me."

"I want you to fuck off and don't come back on my land."

I scoff, trying to hide the tears that well in my eyes. "You're unbelievable."

I turn and walk away, he pushes himself off the table and follows.

"Me?! Unbelievable?!" He yells. I go to lift the tent flap when he grabs my wrist, ripping me behind him.

I stumble back into the table where he just was. He steps closer and closer to me, until his chest is against mine, "You've got nerve. You might genuinely have balls, in fact, to call me unbelievable."

If I wasn't so concerned about how close he was to me, I might've noticed his choice of words. But my mind was running farther than I could catch it. I could only focus on the proximity, or lack thereof, between us.

"Unbelievable... You wanna know what I find unbelievable, Bracken?" He asks, softly, moving his lips beside my cheek so he can whisper into my ear. His hands place themselves beside me onto the table as he leans over me. "What I find unbelievable..."

He doesn't finish his sentence. He pulls away and looks at me.

He's silent. I'm silent. Everything is silent. There's no bugs, no owls, no animals. The only sound is our fast, breathless panting. Why's he panting? Why am I panting?

"Fucking forget it."

He slams his lips on mine, finally. Oh gods, finally. His hands move to my face, resting them on both of my cheeks. He pulls me into him, as if he is trying to merge us into one.

"Wait, Ben-" He keeps kissing me. "Hold on, Ben, there's something-" More kisses.

His hands weave through my hair, pushing my head towards him so I can only pull away for quick breaths.

I bite his lip, hard enough to draw blood. "Ow, fuck!"

I push him away, "I'm not who you think I am."

He's angry. He looks at the blood on his fingers from touching his lip. "You fucking..." He doesn't finish his sentence, even though usually insults come easy to him. He's holding back.

He shakes his head, licking the blood, and then he's kissing me again. "Ben, please, there's something you must know-"

"I know." He whispers quickly, going back to our heated kiss.

"No-" Kisses. "No, you don't-"

"I know." More kisses.

"Ben!" I yell, angrily. I push him off, "I'm not a man!"

I walk past him so he can't kiss me again. As bad as I want to, I can't do it. Not before I tell him. "I'm not Aeron Bracken-"

I barely get it out in time before I'm pressed against the wall, his chest pressed to my back. My cheek touches the soft cloth of the tent, and Ben snakes his fingers up my stomach to my jaw, gripping my cheeks into his fingers.

It feels like everything finally slows down, including him. "I know, Y/N." His voice is low, and raspy. I gasp at my name.

"What?! Ben?" I turn and face him. He cups my cheeks with his hands.

"I've always known." He says, "I knew from the moment I saw you crying on the ground at that courtyard."

"How?" I asked, shocked.

"How? Y/N, you weren't exactly subtle." He says, "But, it was entertaining. I wanted to see how long you would drag it out... But, I couldn't fucking wait for you anymore."

I slap him angrily, and he smirks at me. But gods, that smile. He was so hard to hate. "If you knew... Why didn't you fucking kiss me sooner?"

"So, I should have kissed you the moment I knew I wanted you? Despite the fact you've been lying to me for weeks?" He says, frustrated. "I wanted you to trust me enough to tell me on your own."

I don't say anything right away, because I know he's right. "I trust you with my life... I'm sorry I lied. You didn't deserve that."

"I don't care, Y/N." He kisses me again with desperation.

"This is so wrong." I say, reciprocating his kiss.

"I don't care." He repeats. He mumbles it into my neck over and over with soft kisses. I lean my head back to give him more access. Shivers run down my spine.

"Let me have you." He whispers in my neck, "I need you, little Bracken."

His hands grip my waist, ready to rip off my clothes the second I say the words.

"Take me, my lord."

[pinkmelodie]

First Miguel fic + 250+ follower special ୨୧

I’d like to start off by saying THANK YOU SO SO MUCH FOR ALMOST 300 FOLLOWERS !! And 2000+ notes?!? omg. I checked my inbox a few times and saw 99+ notifs every time, and when I tell you I SCREAMED. As a new writer I can’t thank you enough for all the notes and sweet comments ! I’m so grateful, so take this fic as a thank you <33

Warnings: Miguel is hinted to have slept with socks on which….is a trigger on its own apparently 😥, potentially botched ass Spanish……(no Google translate was used tho, my French teacher taught me better than that), p in v, making out, grinding, slight blood, reader has no chill nor filter but Miguels lowkey into it, degradation, bondage, banter, oral, praise, etc.

a/n: Takes place before the whole Miles incident !! I love Miguel but I can’t forgive him for doing that to my son 🤨🤨 This could also be imagined as König, since they’re both huge stubborn men <33

Pairing: Female reader x Miguel O’Hara 

Summary: Miguel is pent up and needs a release. Lucky for him, there’s a certain spider woman who’d do anything for him <3

Words: 4141 (DAMN I shocked myself w this)

. . .

Miguel runs his hand through his hair, grumbling when he feels it’s getting to a length that needs cutting again. Just another thing to add to his pile of responsibilities.

He pushes the fumbled blanket off to the side and lazily palms at his morning wood, finding the ministrations do little to help his raging hard-on. He’s shocked, mainly that he could still get one with how tense he’s been lately, but mostly that he’s actually annoyed that he has to jerk off. It feels like a chore to him now…though taking care of himself in any sense has since he became Spider-Man.

With a sleepy groan he drags himself up and to the bathroom. His mismatched socks are soft against the cool bathroom tiles where he turns on the shower. His muscles stretch when he tugs his white sweater over his head and tosses it onto the ground nearby, abs tensing and shoulders refusing to relax no matter how much stretching he did.

When the rest of his clothing join the heap on the floor he steps into the freezing cold shower, twitching at the icy droplets that felt like tiny icicles poking into his taut skin. 

He hoped the temperature would make the nuisance go down, but it raged on, standing proud at its full height. Miguel never thought he’d find himself glaring at his own dick, but here he was, horny and heavily pissed off. 

He reached down and tugged at his cock, rubbing his thumb over the angry red tip. He jerked profusely, yet all it did was leave him feeling unsatisfied and humiliated. 

“Fuck.” He cursed, washing his hand off before aggressively turning the knob to stop the flowing water. He tried to remember what he had to do today while pacing the bathroom, but he couldn’t focus with his erection clouding  his thoughts. Maybe if the blood would stay in his head…

He was an attractive guy, he knew that much. It would be easy to go out into the town and hook up with some stranger, but not so much so when he was in this constant sour mood. That sullen energy & resting bitch face paired with his looming height would scare any woman away.

Any sane woman.

You tied up the last of the criminals in your silky webs, smiling in victory. Unfortunately, the joy wasn’t long-lasting since as soon as you got home you felt boredom creeping up on you once again.

For weeks you’d been entertained by the intimidating founder of the spider society; Miguel O’Hara.You’d been bugging him for days on end, literally drooling at his feet and begging him to come back to your place.

He kicked you out multiple times, but like a cockroach you couldn’t be squashed—and neither could your need for him. You just couldn’t take a hint apparently. When he picked you up by the back of your suit and threw you back into your universe, all you focused on was how easily he carried you with just one of his big, veiny hands.

The way that suit hugged his defined chest so well, and his massive arms where you could see every vein…plus that prominent bulge? You were sunk.

He’d finally run out of patience for you when you ‘accidentally’ messed with the tech for his suit, almost making him go full commando in front of everyone in the spider society.(wouldn’t be the last time that happened…) He banned you for good, taking away your ‘multiversal gizmo’ without a second thought.

Your last words being ‘worth it!’ as you were flung back into your universe by the go-home-machine seemed like the icing on the cake to him despising you forever, but apparently that wasn’t the case because the man himself just appeared in your living room.

“Y/N.” He addressed nonchalantly.

You stared at him, jaw agape for a few moments before pinching yourself to see if you were dreaming. You had to be, he basically filed a restraining order against you. A really complicated, multiversal restraining order. Why  would he ever voluntarily come to you?

You couldn’t even respond since your throat felt so dry .. . It seemed your body had other ideas of where to soak.

“Why are you so obbsesed with me?” He suddenly asked, paying no mind to your awkward silence. 

“uhm-“

“I mean, you chased me around every day, eyed me down so intensively it was basically public sex and yet here you are, alone with me like you wanted, and now you’re speechless?” He stalked around your living room, circling you like a bird of prey.

You blushed up a storm and stood frozen in front of him, trying to discretely rub your thighs together.

He eyed you down, noticing your obvious ministrations but only chuckling. “Sometimes I had wished you were an actual spider so I could crush you under the soles of my shoes, but lately I’ve found myself feeling as horny and desperate as you.” He admitted with a smirk that revealed his sharpened fangs. 

That confession had your mind reeling to the point all you could muster up was; “I would’ve let you step on me regardless.”

His smirk grew and he started to approach you until his shadow covered you completely. You had to tilt your whole head up to look him in his glowing red eyes now—but you couldn’t handle making the eye contact anyway.

“You are just a small little thing, yet I didn’t expect you to be all bark no bite. All those filthy things you said lingered in my mind..don’t you want to take care of what you started?” He asked in a deliciously low voice. The almost mocking manner he said it in made you feel called out, and you looked down at your hands and picked at your nails to try and calm yourself.

A clawed finger tilted your head up by the chin and forced you to look into his eyes. How could you forget—in all your time spent basically stalking him you noticed how he never broke eye contact with anyone that he was speaking to. It was both exhilarating and intimidating to see, and you felt that full force while finally being on the receiving end of it. “Look at me when I’m speaking to you, arañita.” He ordered, and it sent tingles shooting up your spine.

You swore you heard your neck crack from how fast you looked up at him. He looked predatory staring down at you like that, eyes gleaming in the sunlight. “So? Will you finish what you started muñeca?” He asked, as if it was even a question to you.

“Fuck yes.” You agreed without missing a beat, making him chuckle darkly. “Needy thing.”

Before your mind could catch up you were suddenly being lifted by him and thrown on his shoulder with ease. He walked through the halls of your cozy apartment and waltzed into your bedroom without even searching for it, carelessly throwing you onto the bed.

You landed with a bounce on the soft comforter, feeling even smaller now with him standing above you. “Wha- how do you know where my bedroom is?” You asked when your brain finally decided to have a rational thought. 

“I’ve done my research—wanted to make sure you weren’t a spy. It was a waste of time, really, you’re just a horny stalker.” He shrugged.

You stared at him with an offended expression (tho it was 100% true) and went to argue until your lips were suddenly sealed by sticky red webs.

 “On your back.” He ordered. 

You crossed your arms at him first until he repeated the command in a low, dangerous voice. “Now.” Any defiance you had pretended to have quickly left your body and you laid down flat on the silk sheets.

He stalked over to you, all big and menacing as always. He leaned over you and forced your wrists together, twirling more glowing silk around them until they were bound above your head. 

He smirked down at you, leaning in to pepper kisses all over your neck. He sucked dark hickeys onto the sensitive skin of your throat, enjoying your muffled moans. While before he found your voice excruciating—he was now desperate to hear it crying out his name.

He stripped the webs off your mouth and you whined at the pain. The feeling resembled a bandaid being ripped off a fresh cut. He cooed pitifully above you and leaned in, whispering “Pobre araña, why don’t I kiss it better?” 

You nodded desperately until his lips met yours with a slight sting. He growled into your mouth, swirling his tongue around yours and exploring your mouth until you were squirming. He nibbled on your bottom lip, sharp canines threatening to break the skin. He pushed his muscled thigh between your legs and pressed down on your clit with his knee, the pressure making you moan under him. Your sweet sounds drove him wild, and he couldn’t help but bite down lightly on your lip until tiny droplets of blood dripped onto his tongue.

He groaned at the taste, his animalistic split-DNA going wild. When he pulled back—lips reddened, hair tussled and fallen slightly in front of his face— you couldn’t help but stare. His face looked so much more chiseled up close, cheekbones perfectly defined and a jawline sharper than the claws currently resting on your hips. 

His toned chest rose up and down steadily while he regained his breath, the familiar spider symbol on his suit growing bigger then smaller with each rise of his lungs like it was breathing. 

“Let’s take care of these, Cariño.” He addressed your clothing as if it were nothing but a nuisance for him before slicing your shirt right off you. He did this with ease, big claws moving onto your bottoms and clawing those off as well.

“Hey! Those were nice.” You pouted, though apparently he didn’t appreciate that comment because you were now being tied up even worse than before. Webs spewed from his wrist and circled your body like serpents, tying around your waist, arms, and thighs. “Don’t be a brat.” He ordered, webs tightening in warning. Once satisfied, he admired the way they looked pulled taut against your soft skin. “Red looks lovely on you, amor.” He praised, a quick switch from his previous comment.

He lifted you and reached behind your back, unclasping your bra with one hand. He threw it onto the ground somewhere with your torn up clothes, focusing his attention on your soft tits.

He hummed in content, playing with your nipples and letting his webs circle around the soft flesh of your breasts. He licked and sucked at one while tugging on the other, making you moan and squirm under him.

“Fuck Miguel- ah! more!” You whined desperately, coaxing a chuckle out of the behemoth. 

“Such a desperate slut.” He tutted, sucking marks all over your chest to match your throat. He kissed over the already forming hickeys, grazing his teeth dangerously close to your jugular. This man was massive, and made of pure muscle like a Greek god. He could easily hold you down without the help of his webs, but he wanted to focus full attention on you. 

He finally moved down to where you needed him most, going to rip your panties straight off you before you rudely slammed your thighs shut. “You take off your suit first….” You whined, embarrassed at being nearly completely nude before him while he was still covered. He was genuinely offended by this, feeling like he’d just had a door slammed on his face, yet he grumbled and messed around with his watch until the hologram started to dissipate.

Your jaw dropped wider and wider the more you took him in. The man resembled a skillfully carved statue belonging to Olympus itself. His biceps and abs were enough to challenge even Ares himself. Your eyes trailed lower and lower, leisurely mapping him out until your eyes locked on the weapon between his legs.

His dick stood loud and proud against his toned stomach, and it was massive. The man is 6,9, you knew he’d be big, but this thing was around 9 inches and looked like it could rip you in half. You couldn’t tear your eyes away from it even if you tried—I mean—the thing was basically introducing itself to you. We’re talking hello, how are you and goodbye.

Miguel basked in your ogling, his ego swelling more than it already had since he first noticed your obsession with him.

You finally snapped out of your trance when he bent down and slipped off your soaked panties, kissing up your leg as he did so. You spread both your legs for him and he took that as an invitation to lean in and lick a stripe up your wet cunt. You jumped, not expecting him to get into it so quickly, but you definitely didn’t complain.

He prodded a finger at your hole and pushed it in slowly, holding your hips down with his free hand. He made sure to be mindful of the claws adorning his fingertips since they wouldn’t go back down thanks to his clouded mind. The thick digit went in without much resistance thanks to how wet you were, until he pushed in a second and started scissoring them. 

You moaned and whimpered at the stretch, two of his thick fingers the size of nearly four of yours. He pumped them in and out quickly, the slick sounds your pretty hole made for him music to his ears. Your slick dripped down his ring and middle fingers that he was ruthlessly pumping inside you and dribbled down his veiny forearm.

He massaged your walls and pushed against them, scissoring his fingers to stretch you as much as possible. He couldn’t hit your g-spot thanks to his clawed fingertips, so he sucked at your clit to fill that extra stimulation until your head was rolling back. 

Something circled your waist and you figured it was his arm until you looked back down to see more webs. You would wriggle far too much without them, and he needed his other hand to spread your folds to drag a mix of his salvia and your slick around your twitching clit. You mewled at the overwhelming stimulation, bucking onto his face while he had a full on make out sesh with your pussy.

Only when he finally sunk four fingers into you and you were basically on the brink of tears with need did he pull away. Not without blowing on your sensitive clit, of course, just to see you twitch and squirm under the unrelenting grasp of his webs.

He stood up with a playful smile, freeing you from some of the webs just to pull you to the edge of the bed. Your ass met his pelvis with a slap when he yanked you by the ankle that quickly locked around his waist. He chuckled out something in Spanish that you didn’t understand, maybe along the lines of “Qué bonita putita…”. You didn’t bother to question it when he started to grind his rock hard dick on your drooling pussy, getting him all nice and wet to push into you. 

Only when he was coated completely in your essence did he listen to your pleas and finally line his fat tip up at your hole. Even with the all the stretching, your poor cunt had to stretch to accommodate the swollen red tip. His pre-cum mixed with your juices when it finally popped in after some resistance, and he groaned at the warm feeling.

“So fucking tight, your poor pussy can’t take it, hm? You were so confident when you were begging for it like a desperate whore.” He growled, degradation making you clench Impossibly tighter around his head until he had to bite back a groan.

“Please Mig, I can take it.” You begged, rutting your hips onto him and trying to coax him deeper until he swiftly grabbed your waist. His claws dug into your skin, threatening to break through. He pulled back and you immediately assumed he was going to tease you again for being desperate. 

Straight away you whined out apologies, stumbling over your words and pleas until he suddenly slammed back inside you, cramming 5 of his solid inches into your hole. You screamed, tears brimming on your waterline at the stretch. Your back arched off the bed and you squirmed away from the sting until he pulled back and rutted back in again, almost as if testing the waters.

With every drag of his hips his cock slowly got deeper into you until he was bottomed out completely. His tip kissed against your cervix and you looked down, amazed and horrified to see him crammed inside you so snugly. He gave you a moment to compose yourself—preoccupied on the bulge in your lower stomach. 

“My good girl, fitting around me so perfectly. That wasn’t so hard now, was it?” He teased, dick twitching at the fucked out moan you gave in response.

It definitely was hard, yet his dick was harder. You could feel every single vein and ridge pressing into you, rubbing against your gummy walls in a way that left you drooling. You suddenly understood why he’d prepped you for so long. It wasn’t just to tease you, this just was not an easy thing to take. 

“Move,” you pleaded, correcting youself when he raised an eyebrow, “please.”

He hummed, palming at the fat of your hips to see the way your skin sunk under his touch. “I don’t know Cariño…do you really deserve this dick?” 

You gave him your best “are you for real?” face. This man was not about to make you beg when he was the one to randomly show up in your home. You’d been begging on your knees for him for months, and now he chooses to acknowledge it?

You made it your personal mission to go against everything he’s ever ordered from you, and the grind never does stop, does it?

“Like you deserve to kiss my ass?” You jest without hesitation. 

You can see the way his whole face stretches; clearly dumbfounded at your response before he’s able to compose himself. With your cunt wrapped around him so tight and warm like that, it’s easy to forget the pretty spider underneath him is a little rascal.

“You were just whining a second ago, don’t try that,” He warned. “You’ve been begging for it for months, practically humping my leg in front of the entire Arachno-Humanoid-Poly-Universe.” 

You groaned at his insistence on calling it that, even while balls deep inside you. “I didn’t sign up to fuck a geek,” you mutter.

“With the way you approached me I’m sure you’d fuck just about anyone, puta.”

You wanted to be insulted, but your words caught in your throat when he leaned close to you to whisper right into your ear; “Quit acting like you had any dignity in the first place and beg.”

His warm breath on your nape left you shivering. Miguel wasn’t human—not completely. With DNA mixed with a spiders, he was a predator; one ready to devour you whole.

It wasn’t a surprise to anyone really when you gradually let quiet pleas spill from your mouth. Miguel had half the mind to make you speak up, but he was loosing his thin amount of patience as is. With a satisfied click of his tongue, he pulled back until his flushed head was right at your entrance “see, was that so hard?”

You knew better than to try and answer at this point when he rammed his cock back into you. Huge hands gripped your thighs and pushed your legs into your chest while he bullied his dick further and further into your cunt. 

Your pussy was embarrassingly loud for him, squelching with each brutal thrust of his hips. His muscled thighs were tense with the pure strength he put into slamming into you—beating your sensitive pussy in until it memorized his shape for life. 

“Mig- ah! Holyfuck!” You screamed, draping your arms over his shoulders and scratching at his back like a cat post.

“Go on princesa, mark me up.” He encouraged and got a better grip on your thighs, pushing your legs out to a full spread. He had you displayed like a dinner feast and bent you like a lawn chair with your lower half on his toned chest. He was actually impressed at your flexibility, yet like always he chose the worst way to phrase it.

“I’m shocked, I never expected you to do any real training.” 

“Fuck you.”

“That’s what you’ve been wanting, is it not?” He gloated with such a shit-eating expression that you just had to wipe off his face. He sunk deeper into you when you pulled him in for a kiss and it had you clenching around him.

His thrusts got more erratic until your mind was clouded with only the sounds of his dick disappearing into your cunt. His hands were dragging you back onto him by the hips at the same time, so you could feel him bumping against your cervix with each thrust.

You were too fucked out to say anything other than broken moans and mewls of his name, and he wasn’t too far off.

“So pretty Cariño,” he groaned, “all for me? mierda- yeah, all for me.”

A string of loud mewls along with shameless moans poured out of your bruised lips in response. He pounded your pussy with so much vigour that you edged forward on the ruffled mattress with each rough thrust.

He massaged your throbbing clit between his fingers, laughing at the way they kept slipping around from how much of your own arousal was dripping down your cunt. Heavy balls slapping against your soft skin filled your ears when you felt that coil in your stomach start to snap.

“Pussys gripping me like a fucking vice- you gonna cum for me?” he teased, “look baby- look at how well this sweet little pussys taking me.”

He took your hand and lead it down until it was tracing the prominent bump in your stomach - You could feel every brutal thrust and see the way he ravaged your insides. You pressed down on it, getting impossibly tighter around him and the broken moan he let out was what got you.

He quickly tore a mind-numbing orgasm out of you - thick cockhead still splitting you open while he worked your clit. You soaked his cock and squeezed against it, shaking and crying under him until you could barely take it anymore. 

He smiled in pride, sharp fangs showing and making him resemble the waiting mouth of a shark. “Such a good fucking girl, coming all over me like that. Look at the mess you’ve made,” he hummed, observing the noticeable white ring you left around the base of his cock. 

His thrusts stuttered before stilling completely inside you. He made a noise akin to an animal before spilling his hot cum inside your welcoming heat with a shudder and a broken moan.

“Mfhm- mierda.. .” He cursed, his warmth filling you up so much it started to spill out.

You felt like a rag doll under him, half-asleep and smiling dumbly up at him. He chuckled and admired one last time how pretty you looked in his glowing red webs, wrapped around you like his own custom lingerie. 

He sliced them off you and smiled warmly when you raised your arms out to him. He leaned in to let you wrap your arms around his massive shoulders with your legs now wrapping around his waist.

He picked you up with you curled into him like a koala - the warm sensation of his cum dripping down your connected bodies grounding you while he walked to your bathroom. 

He pressed soft kisses to your marked up-neck while he ran a warm bath, rubbing at the indents his claws subconsciously left on your hips. 

You didn’t remember exactly when you fell asleep; somewhere between when his large hands washed the cum off your skin or when he gently laid you down on your fresh bedsheets. 

All you knew was that you woke up to the smell of clean laundry and noticed snacks and a water bottle left on your nightstand. There was a note too that you had to reach over to grab. His handwriting was smudged but fancy, and it was so adorably him that it left you smiling ear to ear. 

“Had to leave early. Meet me in my office tomorrow and we’ll discuss how you’ll be living in my universe from now on ,seeing as how you’re now mine, mi vida.” 

. . .

[talaok]

Hey, I have this huge exam next week, it’s the biggest exam of my life so far and I’m stressed af. I consider myself a chill person but I’m feeling beyond anxious all the time and I have never felt this stressed in my life. It’s so hard to take care of myself rn like I don’t feel like eating but I have to because I’m nauseous and then I can’t find anything I’d like to eat and it makes me more anxious IT’S A VICIOUS CYCLE I SWEAR AND APPARENTLY I HAVE TO EAT EVERY FOUR HOURS EVERY DAY BC I’M A HUMAN??

anyway, sorry for oversharing. I was gonna ask if you could write sth with pedro taking care of stressed reader, making sure she eats and is hydrated, filing up her coffee, cuddling with her when she has crying sessions wiping her tears and telling her everything’s gonna be okay and he’s gonna be there for her with every step no matter what. I literally crave comfort right now, and I’d be so grateful if you could write something 🥹

I love how caring and kind you are with asks, thank you so so so much for being here. Love you 💕💕💕💕

pairing: Pedro pascal x reader

a/n: Im so so sorry love, im one hundred percent sure youll do great, but in the meantime, i hope this will make you feel a little bit better, love you💗💗 (this ask did skip the line bc if i posted it two weeks from now it wouldn't have made any sense)

He didn't know how or when, but all of a sudden, all you did was study.

And at first, he didn't really think anything of it, you'd told him about the exam and about how important it was, so he understood, but what he didn't expect, was just how much you'd be studying.

You raised your head only to answer him, and even when you did, it was monosyllabic.

"Have you eaten anything?"

"no"

"did you drink any water today?"

"not really"

And no matter how many times he'd tell you how bad for you that was, the next time he asked, the answers were always the same. And that's exactly why by the second day, he had stopped asking and instead, started doing.

He had conceived a whole plan of attack.

For the days when he, unfortunately, had to go to work, he left two full water bottles and a glass on your desk, and an already cooked lunch in the fridge, so that all you needed to do was heat it up in the microwave.

But on the days when he didn't have to go to work, he took it upon himself to become your personal assistant, and your worst nightmare altogether.

No matter how much you complained, he forced you to take a break at least every two hours, he made sure you were drinking the water he poured into your glass, he made you coffee every time you asked, (always only after having reminded you that you didn't need more coffee but more sleep) and finally, he cooked or ordered all of your favorite foods in the hopes that it would make you feel more like eating (which never seemed to work).

Today, thankfully, he got to stay home, so for the thousand time, he walked into the studio to check in on you.

"hey there" he smiled, watching you half-heartedly wave at him before returning your full attention to your book "I brought you a snack," he said, placing the apple slices on your desk and making a soft laugh flee your mouth.

He had turned into a soccer mom, but god it felt good to hear you laugh again.

He got behind you to start gently massaging what he was sure must have been sore shoulders.

"how's it going?"

"bad" you grumbled, relaxing the tiniest bit at his touch

"I'm sorry" he murmured, leaning down to kiss the crown of your head "you wanna take a break?"

"It's not been two hours yet"

"I know, but I think it would be good for you" he explained "We could take a walk maybe"

You sighed, closing your eyes "I can't"

"sweetheart" he cooed, crouching down to be at your level and turning your chair towards him "you're gonna burn yourself out if you continue like this"

"I know but..." you glanced back at your notes "I can't fail this exam"

"and you're not gonna" he immediately reassured you

He watched something happen behind your eyes, 

"not if I keep taking breaks"

"baby-" he murmured, taking your hand in his and watching as your mouth curved downwards for the quickest moment 

"I just-I'm so anxious," you said, your voice breaking "I-I can't fail- I just can't"

"hey hey hey" he cooed, his eyes looking for yours "Sweetheart, it's ok"

And that was the moment you couldn't hold it anymore, all the stress and fear you'd been bottling up for days started spilling from your eyes.

"n-no it's not, I-I... I don't even know, I just..." you sobbed, and when you looked at him, he swore he heard his heart break " I feel like shit"

"sugar..." he murmured, wasting no time wrapping his arms around you "I'm so sorry baby," he spoke gently to your ear as his hands stroked your hair and back 

You hid your face in his chest as you cried all you had to cry.

"it's all gonna be alright sweetheart, I promise"

But at that, for some reason, you only started to cry harder.

"ok this is it, hold onto me"

And you had just the time to frown, before he had picked you up and walked out of the room and into the living room.

"w-what are you doing?"

"forcing you to take a break"

"I could have walked" A small smile appeared on your lips, and with it, a small wave of relief washed over Pedro's body.

"You've done enough today" he explained, sitting down on the couch with you, and in less than a moment, your whole body had clung to his.

Your left leg was draped over his, and your head was on his chest, as he held you close with both his arms.

"y/n, you're not gonna fail" he started gently "You're the smartest person I've ever met"

"That's not true" you muttered, your words muffled by his body

"yes it is" he insisted "And baby I promise you, that everything is gonna be alright" he swore, slowly running a hand through your hair "and that no matter what, I'm gonna be here for you, ok?"

It took a moment for you to respond, but after a few beats of silence, a muffled "ok" made its way to Pedro's ears.

"yeah?" he asked, again, encouraging you to meet his gaze.

"yeah" you sniffled, as you finally looked up

"Feeling better?"

"yes" you nodded "Thank you"

He tightened his hug, as he bent down, to ghost your mouth "I love you baby" he kissed you "Whatever you need, I'm always gonna be here for you"

[yayeetsonny]

Let you down (USWNT x Young!Reader)

This one was inspired by a song by a rap artist by the name of NF. Obviously I don’t own any part of the song in anyway shape or form.

This one deals with Anxiety and Sadness and just overall not great emotions but it does have a happy ending. Also has squint and you’ll miss it Mal x reader. Mal is also younger to help fit the plot. Hope you enjoy. All mistakes are mine, Not edited.

“Feels like we're on the edge right now

I wish that I could say I'm proud

I'm sorry that I let you down

I let you down….”

“Please don't come after me

I just wanna be alone right now, I don't really wanna think at all

Go ahead, just drink it off

Both know you're gonna call tomorrow like nothing's wrong

Ain't that what you always do?

I feel like every time I talk to you

You're in an awful mood

What else can I offer you?

There's nothing left right now, I gave it all to you…”

Suddenly my earbud was ripped out of my ear cutting off the song i was listening to. “Hey! What the hell Mallory? I was listening to that!” I said angrily as I grabbed my earbud back from her and turned to walk away.

“Okay, woah, chill out dude I was just gonna ask you if you wanted to join the girls and I for lunch after practice…” She said pointing at the girl’s behind her who were watching us curiously. I sighed quietly, pinching the bridge of my nose in frustration, mostly at myself realizing I overreacted.

“No thank you. I’m sorry I snapped at you. Shouldn’t have.” I said softly before shoving my earbud back in my ear, walking away to the other side of the field, picking up a ball on the way and absentmindedly juggling it.

“What’s her deal?” Rose asked, face scrunched in confusion.

“No idea, all i did was take the earbud out of her ear to ask if she wanted to go to lunch with us and she snapped at me. She said no, which is fine but somethings wrong, I can tell.” Mal said

“that’s not like her at all, should I try and talk to her?” Christen asked popping up out of nowhere.

“You might be the right person to do that, not totally certain she seems pretty upset about something.” Mal said shrugging slightly

“I’ll give it my best shot.”

For the second time in 5 minutes my earbud was taken out of my ear cutting off the depressing music blasting out of it.

“Okay seriously, Mal if you don’t get away from me in the next 10 seconds I swear…” I trailed off as I turned to face who I thought was Mal but turned out to be Christen. “Oh s-sorry Chris I thought you were Mal. What’s up?”

“That’s okay, although your reaction when you thought I was her is a little concerning… Everything okay? Did she do something to upset you?”

“No, no, i’m sorry. She didn’t do anything, not really anyways, I’m just irritable right now.”

“What’s going on?”

“I’m just really lost in my head I guess.” I shrugged absentmindedly as I sat on the bench and changed into my slides.

“Lost in your head about what, love?” Chris asked as she moved to sit next to me, resting her hand on my knee.

“It’s nothing, it’s stupid Pressy don’t worry about it.” I said, shooting up and jogging away.

“Something is definitely up with that kid. Time to gather the vets and do some gentle prodding.”

I quietly made my way onto the bus and went all the way to that back, curling up into a seat turning to face the window so my teammates knew to leave me alone. My phone dinged and I already knew I wasn’t going to like what I read.

“You think you’re some big shot now that you made it to the national team? You know it’ll only be a matter of time before you crash and burn. Come home before you embarrass me on national television.”

It was a text from my father. He’d never been the most supportive of my dreams and my current career. These last few days however he’s been more… aggressive with his words. I don’t know why or what I did but he’s been telling me I’ll only be an embarrassment to him and my step mother. That he doesn’t need his friends asking questions when I inevitably fail. His words not mine. I haven’t told the girls anything about what he’s saying because i don’t want them to do something rash, like get on a plane and fly over and beat his ass which is something they’re not above doing. I let out a quiet sigh shoving my phone in my bag before closing my eyes and attempting to sleep.

Team Veteran’s POVs//

“Okay what’s with the kid?” Alex asked staring at our youngest teammate in concern

“She’s 18, you know?” Mal said cutting into our conversation. Megan shot her a sharp look and she went back to watching ATLA (pls tell me y'all know what that acronym stands for…) eating her mandatory after practice goldfish and drinking a juice box Tobin gave her.

“Doesn’t matter she’s still the youngest on this team so by default she’s still a kid to us.”

“That’s lame.”

“Mallory…”

“What?”

“First of all, you just turned 19 like 2 seconds ago so you’re also still a kid and secondly don’t eavesdrop on other people’s conversations, it’s rude.”

“I wasn’t eavesdropping, you guys are all sitting together in front of me, it’s kind of hard not to hear what you’re saying.”

“Just put your earbuds in and pay attention to your show please.”

“Chris come on, she’s my best friend I- ”

“Mallory Diane do as I say please.”

“Okay jeeze, no need to use my government name.” She said rolling her eyes at me. I pinched the bridge of my nose and breathed in deeply to stop myself from correcting her.

“As you were saying?”

“Well she’s just acting odd, when was the last time she was like this?”

“I can’t even remember it’s been a long time.”

“What should we do?” Kelley asked reaching over into Mal’s bag of goldfish, taking a healthy handful, much to her dismay.

“Hey!” Mal slapped her hand hard enough for it to echo throughout the bus, causing everyone to look over at us in surprise, Kelley jerked her hand away, holding it like she’d been shot.

“Mallory Pugh! We do not hit people. Say you’re sorry right now.”

“Sorry Kel. I should’ve just used my words. Please don’t take my goldfish.” She said quietly.

“Thanks squirt, I accept your apology. I’m sorry too, I should’ve asked first.”

“lt’s okay, I accept your apology.”

“Good job using your words babe.” I said ruffling her hair slightly.

Once we were sure Mal was settled again we went back to our previous discussion.

“I say we just let her come to us when she’s ready, you know how she is when people push too hard.”

“I agree.”

“Usually I would agree but they way she snapped at Mal earlier tells me she’s about half a step away from either actually hitting someone or putting a hole in the wall.”

“That’s a little dramatic don’t you think?”

“When has she ever snapped at Mal, Ali?”

“Good point.”

“We still haven’t answered the question of what we’re going to do though.”

“I say we just be straight forward and honest, let her know we’re worried and that we’d like to talk to her and see if she’ll open up and tell us what’s going on.”

“Won’t that send her running for the hills?”

“Not if we don’t give her the opportunity to run.” Alex said getting a mischievous look in her eye.

“Oh no, I know that look, what do you have up your sleeve Al?”

“You’ll see” She said leaning over and whispering whatever it was she was thinking to Becky, who hummed in agreement.

After another hour we finally made it back to the hotel, got roommate assignments and got settled for the night. All the veterans on the team hung back after everyone else had left to go to bed, leaving just Alex, Tobin, Christen, Ali, Julie, Becky, Crystal, Kelley, And Alyssa in the Lobby.

“Okay Cap what’s the plan?” Tobin asked.

“The plan is we’re all going to Alex and Kelley’s room, to wait for the kid. We gave Mal a note to leave on her bed and told her to go hang out in someone else’s room so when she’s not there, she’ll have to go looking for her, and when she passes by the room we’ll grab her and lock her in with us until we get some answers about what’s going on.” Becky said, as we all huddled together and talked in hushed tones.

“So we’re kidnapping her?”

“Not kidnapping… more like, trapping out of love and concern.”

“Right… it still sounds a lot like kidnapping to me.”

“Just follow our lead.”

“Whatever you say, cap.”

We all went up to the room and waited anxiously to see if our plan would work. It only took about 10 minutes to receive our answer. A quiet knock on the door startled almost everyone in the room.

“I got it” Alex said getting up and padding over to the door.

“Hey little Lamb what’s up?” We heard her say.

“Uh… have you seen Mal anywhere?”

“No, I haven’t why?”

“It’s just we’re rooming together and she always waits for me to come up before she goes anywhere.”

“Hmm, I don’t know kid, sorry.”

“Oh okay, that’s okay, i’ll get out of your hair sorry to bother you.”

“You didn’t bother me it’s no problem.”

“Goodni-” She began to say but it was cut off when Alex quite literally grabbed her and yanked her inside, the force of which sent her stumbling forward into the room falling slightly. Alex quickly closed the door and locked it while she wasn’t looking.

“Alex, what the hell is wrong with you?”

“Hey, language.”

It was then that the young striker turned to look at who said that and saw all of us sitting on the beds.

“What the…? What is this?”

“An intervention… of sorts.” Julie said quietly.

“Intervention? For what?” She said her eyes going as wide as saucers

“For why you’re acting so weird lately.” Tobin said standing up, and crossing her arms, trying to intimidate our young teammate just slightly.

“I am not acting weird.” She said defensively.

“Yes you are.”

“No I’m not!”

“Really? Then why did you snap at Mal and technically christen today?”

“I was just irritated.”

“Why?”

“I don’t know, why do you guys care so much?”

“Because we’re supposed to look after you.” Christen said, raising an eyebrow when all she got in return was an eye roll. After a beat of silence she sighed loudly and sat down on the floor, hanging her head in defeat.

“Are you…okay?” Kelley asked as we all looked around at each other, unsure of what to say or do.

“I don’t know.” She said lifting up her head and rubbing her face tiredly. She took her phone out of her pocket, and after a moment threw it on the bed, and said “Read it”

We each took turns quietly reading the text conversation between her and her father, and after each person read it there was a noticeable shift in the room. Everyone was angry for her.

“Who talks to a child like that? Much less their own child?” Megan said beginning to pace around the room, angrily.

“I’ll kill him.”

“I’ll break his kneecaps.”

“You don’t need his approval you know that, right?”

“I just feel like I’ve let him down.” She said quietly, looking anywhere but at us.

“That’s not true. I won’t lie and say that he’s going to change his mind one day and say that what you’re doing is good enough for him but you don’t need validation from him, or anyone for that matter. All that matters is how you feel about yourself and the things that you do.” Ali said sitting down next to her and wrapping her arm around her, letting her lay her head on her shoulder.

“I’m not sure what I’m supposed to do now. I mean I know that what he said wasn’t cool, but i do still rely on him for stuff and at the end of the day I still have to go home at the end of camp.” she sighed.

“What could you possibly rely on him for?” Kelley scoffed

“Oh I don’t know, maybe, food, a roof over my head, things like that.” She said sarcastically.

“You don’t need him for that, you have us.”

“Oh right, like one of you is gonna want ME as a roommate.”

We all looked around at each other and a few of us shrugged.

“Why not? If you want, you can be me and kelley’s roomie.” Alex said smiling softly at the young striker who looked back at her with lots of skepticism.

“Or you could ask Mal if she’s looking to room with anyone.” Tobin said wiggling her eyebrows.

“You guys would really do that for me?” She asked, voice breaking just slightly.

“Of course we would kid.”

“Why?”

“Because that’s what family does.” Christen said, walking over to our youngest teammate and giving her a hand up.

“Group hug!” Tobin said as we all smushed together. The hug was brief however as we were interrupted by rapid knocking on the door.

“Okay, okay hold your horse’s I’m coming” Crystal said quickly yanking the door open, startling whoever was on the other side.

“Is Y/N here?” We heard Mal ask.

“Yeah, she is, you wanna come in?” Crystal stepped to the side to let the youngins into the room, mainly Mal, Rose, Sonnett, Trinity, Tierna, Sophia, Ashley Sanchez and Sam Mewis.

“We were wondering if-”

“Wait what’s wrong?” Sam asked, taking in Y/N’s tired and still slightly sad expression.

“Nothing Sammy, they just finished cheering me up actually.”

“Cheering you up about what? Are you okay?” Mal asked, stepping forward and wrapping her in a tight hug.

“Yeah I’m okay. My dad’s just being a little tough on me right now, that’s all.”

Ali scoffed, “I think he’s being a little more than tough on you, love. He’s being a jackass, and you don’t deserve it.”

“Wait, what did we miss? Come on, we never get to know what’s going on!” Trinity whined.

Y/N decided to show the new comers to the room, what they had missed and much like before everyone was visibly and vocally angry on behalf of our teammate all beginning to talk over one another, only stopping when Y/N loudly called out to them.

“Guys, guys, it’s okay. I don’t need you all conspiring to commit murder on my behalf, okay? It’s not necessary. I’ve already decided to take Alex and Kelley up on their offer to be their roommate.”

“Really? That’s great! We’ll get all the details sorted out before the end of camp.” Alex said wrapping her arms around her in a bear hug.

“Fine, is there anything else we can do for you then? Anything.” Mal asked.

“Movie night?”

“Anything for you.”

After everyone was changed and comfortable, everyone piled on and around the 2 beds in the room, Alex caught on to the fact that Mal and Y/N were laying together, with Y/N in between Mal’s legs, laying on her chest. She quietly nudged Julie who was the closest to them and she quickly took out her phone and snapped a picture, discreetly sending it to everyone but the 2 lovebirds.

“Awww! That’s so CUTE!” Rose said loudly, Sam quick to cover her mouth and shush her, Mal and Y/N looking at her in confusion.

“What’s so cute Rose?” Mal asked.

“Uh- nothing, nothing just a picture of Sam’s dog she just showed me.” She said nervously. Sam elbowed Rose in the ribs as she smiled sweetly at them.

“Oh yeah, just uh, it’s just a picture of Fin from the first bath he took.” She said nervously.

“Oh let me see!” Y/N said enthusiastically.

Sam quickly pulled up a picture to show her and mal and they both gushed over it quietly.

After a lot of debate and only a little bit of yelling, it was decided we would watch Monster’s inc. A Pixar classic.

While we weren’t sure how well the next few weeks would go for our youngest teammate, we all vowed to do whatever it took to show her that we would always be there for her, and that we would be the family that she had always been looking for.

//

THE END

This ending was awkward, and i overall don’t really like how this turned out. But hopefully it was decent.

[dem-obscure-imagines]

I Know the End | Vol. 3

Poe Dameron x Reader

Fandom: Star Wars

Summary: You were one of the Rebellion’s greatest weapons in the Galactic Civil War, a Princess from a distant planet, a Jedi with wings. Now, you’ve found yourself in a new world, a new war, your old friends long gone.

When Poe Dameron was sent on a wild goose chase of a reconnaissance mission four systems out, he never expected to find the key to his heart…

Note: At long last, here it is. Thank you for your patience. I love you all. I honestly wrote this as a long-winded attempt to make Poe Dameron’s dumbest line “Somehow, Palpatine returned” into a gut-wrenching and emotional moment and it got way out of hand. I am no Star Wars expert, but I did a lot of research for this and consider myself waaaaaaay more of a SW nerd now than I was a mere two months ago. Could probably write a dissertation on it at this point (I say as I literally churned out a novel). It is my first time writing for the fandom, though, so, here goes nothing. I did make up a fair bit of stuff and a good handful of OCs for this. Let me know what you think!

Warnings: Canon-typical violence, lightsaber and blaster wounds, alcohol consumption, war and the implications of it, gets a little steamy but no smut, reader has nightmares, misuse of the Force, Rewriting the Rise of Skywalker a lil bit…

Word Count: 82.7k total (Split into four approximately 20k chunks)Reader Is: 24, a Jedi, a Princess, has butterfly wings

Vol 1. | Vol 2. | Vol 3. | Vol 4.

Sentimental or Superstitious

You could tell when Poe walked into your meditation room that he didn’t exactly have good news. Your eyes were closed. You were floating in the back of the room, a few wooden balls floating in rings around you, like moons in orbit. You felt him in the doorway, watching, a certain warmth swirling in his chest.

“You can say hi, you know.” You told him, eyes still closed.

“Didn’t want to scare you.” He admitted, walking inside, steps slow.

“You couldn’t. I always feel when you’re here.” You finally opened them, letting in the light, dim though it was. “Your energy is pretty hard to ignore.”

“I’m flattered, your Highness.” He put a hand to his chest, his smile hiding something. You could tell. Maybe it was the Force, or maybe it was something else entirely, but you were always able to read him like a book.

You walked closer, using the Force to close the door behind him, then the curtains, granting you some privacy. “Talk to me. What’s going on?”

“Mission. Black Squadron. Outer Rim. We’re gonna be gone for three days.” He said, taking your hand. He fiddled with your fingers absently, waiting for your response.

“Oh. Yeah, alright.” You nodded, that bittersweet feeling sinking in. It was familiar, in a way. That was how the Rebellion had been, too. People left sometimes for days at a time. Sometimes, they wouldn’t come back. It was a war. That was the nature of those sorts of things. “Be safe.”

“That’s…it? You’re not gonna try to stop me?” He asked, almost sad about it.

“I know I couldn’t if I tried.” You said, slipping your hand further into his. “You’re nothing if not stubborn. I happen to love that about you. And this…isn’t my first war. I know how these things go.”

He nodded, eyes locked on the way your fingers looked together. Yours in his. His wrapped around yours. You’d held his hands so many times, and yet, he still got chills from the feeling. Everything about the two of you together felt so right. He couldn’t remember a part of his life without you in it anymore. It both thrilled and scared him.

“I just…I need you to know that every time you climb into that cockpit, you’re taking my heart with you.” You said, taking a step closer, raising your hand to rest against his cheek. “Be careful with it.”

He’d shaved a few days before, but now he had some decent stubble growing back already. It suited him.

Poe closed his eyes, let out a long breath, letting your touch soothe away the cresting doubts in his mind. He reached up and held your hand against his cheek, eyes big and sad and brown. “(Y/N), you can’t just say that and still expect me to leave.”

You chuckled. “I know. I mean it, though. You…” You’re the love of my life, Poe Dameron. “You mean a lot to me, you know. I need you and that droid of yours to get back to me in one piece.”

“Yes, ma’am.” He smiled, pressing a kiss to your thumb.

“What time are you wheels-up?”

“About an hour from now. Hour and a half maybe.”

“Great. Then meet me in my quarters in five.” You told him, pressing a quick kiss to his cheek. With a flourish of your wrists, the curtains opened again. You used the Force to push the door back open, into its welcoming, propped position.

BB-8, who was sitting just outside it, whirred in greeting, promising to help the mission go smoothly.

“Oh I know you will, Bee.” You reassured him, glancing back at Poe as you left him standing there, your heart in his hand. “You’re one of our best.”

***

You sat on your bunk, fingers fiddling with the Mariposan Healer’s Pendant, which you had strung from a leather cord. It was the same cord your kyber crystal had been strung on, repurposed. When the door slid open, you set it on your nightstand, looking up to find Poe, still in his leather jacket and a soft shirt.

He shed the jacket almost immediately, depositing it on the chair at your desk. He walked over to the bed, hands finding your waist quickly as he kissed you. It was different this time, slower, more passionate, deliberate and careful. He brought one hand up to the back of your neck, guiding it into your hair.

Poe leaned forward, urging you onto your back, movements hardly domineering, but steadfast and sure. Guiding, not demanding. A request, not an order.

You laid back, a hand on his cheek, the other guiding him down on top of you.

He rested his head on your chest, letting out a long breath as you started playing with his hair, his arms looped around your waist. His breathing was slow, relaxed. He knew if he closed his eyes, he was at risk of falling asleep to the lulling forces of your warmth on his cheek and the smell of your sweet perfume wafting through his nostrils.

“Is this an okay position for you?” He asked. “I just…your wings. I don’t wanna crush you, baby.”

“They’re flexible like that. They’ll be fine.” You reassured him, fingers still buried in his soft curls. “It’s like falling asleep on your arm. Cuts off circulation for a little while, but no real harm done.”

“Mmm,” he hummed, the vibrations gentle against you.

“I’ve never seen you scared like this.” You told him. “Is it a bad one?”

“Pretty routine.” He shrugged. “Nothing particularly dangerous. It’s…well, it’s all dangerous on some level, but you know what I mean. I just…I’ve always flown with nothing to lose. That’s not really the case anymore.”

Your heart just about melted. You kissed the crown of his head.

“You know, Rose says that…this Resistance…it’s not about fighting what you hate, it’s about protecting what you love.” You said. “That’s how it was for us, too. You can’t think about the what ifs too hard. You have to think about the celebration after. You picture all your friends there. Alive. Happy. Safe. And you fight for those victories, the ones where everyone gets to celebrate.”

He smiled, tilting his face up to kiss your cheek, then your lips. He hovered above you for a moment, admiring you, that flyboy smile returning to that handsome face. “You’re wiser than your years, you know.”

“I’ve been told that, yeah.” You chuckled, leaning up to kiss him. “I, uh, have something for you.”

“Oh yeah?”

You sat up as he sat back and reached for the necklace on your nightstand, pressing it into his palm. He stared at it for a long moment, He thought about this rock a lot, the one he’d used to wake you up, the one he’d journeyed across several planets to find. He couldn’t fathom why you were giving it back to him now,

“Baby, this is yours.”

“You used it to save me once. It’ll bring you back to me in one piece.” You said, curling his fingers around it. “Call me sentimental or superstitious…”

“Thank you.” He said, grasping it tight. He slipped the cord over his neck, the metal clinking against the ring there. His mother’s ring. “I’ll get it back to you. I promise.”

You pressed one final kiss to his pillow-soft lips before murmuring, “You better, flyboy.”

History Echoes

You saw the Squadron off from your spot on the hill at the edge of camp, watching as their X-Wings took off into the air, getting into formation before blasting away at lightspeed. Your hair blew in the breeze. Artoo beeped beside you, comforting.

“Oh I know, Artoo. He’s the best there is. And BB-8 will take care of him.” You said.

He beeped out a message, basically calling you out for being too emotionally invested in a pilot.

You laughed. “I know that, too. But this flyboy is different.”

Artoo agreed and the two of you returned to camp.

In the afternoon, you stood in the patch of dirt outside the kitchens, fenced in loosely. You’d been saving food scraps, propagating the ends of heads of lettuce, producing sprouts from fruit pits, collecting seeds. With so many troops, fresh food was a luxury you could not take for granted. Being able to grow more food would be crucial.

“I knew it was a matter of time before I found you out here with your hands in the dirt.” Laesynda said, gliding through the gate. Posture straight, eyes warm.

“Took me a while to get things to sprout.” You confessed. “And I recently stumbled into some free time.”

“Mind if I help you?”

“If you don’t mind getting dirty, Admiral.” You said, a glint of mischief in your eye as she knelt in the dirt beside you, despite her long, flowing Mariposan garb. You used a trowel to create little holes in the dirt, carefully placing sprouts roots-down in the moist soil. You covered them carefully, sweeping the dirt into place with your hands, patting them down flat.

Laesynda helped, very obviously trained by the few Mariposans that remained. Gardening and plants had always been important to your people. You were glad that your sister had learned that, despite the circumstances.

“I heard Black Squadron shipped out.” She said, voice even. “You doing okay?”

“Oh yeah. I’m fine.”

“So this isn’t stress gardening?”

“No. Well, maybe a little.”

“How are things with you and him?” She asked. “I heard him lying to some of the rookies that Jedi aren’t allowed to fall in love.”

You burst into laughter, able to picture it so easily. “He would say that, wouldn’t he? Well, it’s good. We’re good.”

“I noticed you two touching less. In public, that is. I figured that either meant your little gala went very well, or very wrong.” She said with a laugh.

“I think you and Soren are the only two that have it figured out.”

“Not Rey?”

“She doesn’t pry, which is nice. And if we tell one person, we’ll have to tell everyone, and we’re definitely not ready for that.” You admitted. “I do plan on telling Leia, though. She’d want to know.”

“She’s been rooting for you two since the beginning.” Laesynda confessed. “She and I talked about it one night over a bottle of Mariposan wine.”

You missed those days, gossiping with Leia. It was…weird, being in different age groups. You hoped it was something you would grow back into, being friends with her again. Now, whether she meant to or not, she treated you as something of a niece. A child of hers, even, which only made sense, given the circumstances on her end. But still.

Chewie stood at the fence and let out a curious roar.

“We’re starting a garden. Growing some fresh fruits and veggies for the food supply.” You told him. “Do you want to help?”

He agreed, walking over and setting to work with you, helping move heavy piles of soil, and once things were planted, he helped move some stepping stones into place. You set out large barrels to collect rainwater. It rained a decent bit on Ajan Kloss, but it was also pretty warm. It would be nice to have some water saved in case you hit a dry patch.

The three of you worked out there for hours, a few other volunteers helping until you had several neat little rows of plants, as well as paths through and around them, the fence reinforced to keep out the native species of animals that lived on the planet. Most of them were friendly, at least as far as you knew, but you were sure they were more than likely to end up nibbling on your veggies.

Laesynda wrapped an arm around you, Chewie standing on your other side as you looked down at the literal fruits of your labor. If you all lived on this base long enough, you could only imagine the kinds of things that would start to take root.

***

In the canteen, after dinner, the room was filled with various recruits, passing their idle time before bed. Some played cards, some read quietly by themselves. Some were sharing drinks, telling stories from home.

You were sitting in there, getting some reading done yourself. Luke had left you some notes he’d taken during his studies. Experiments he had done, learning new tricks and abilities with the Force. He’d written about a Force-sensitive tree that he and Poe’s parents had planted on Yavin IV. He’d written about a young Yoda-like student he’d had, a baby who was fifty years old, raised by a Mandalorian. He’d written about Force healing, that is, how to use your life force to heal most injuries. Extreme ones were risky, supposedly, but minor injuries could be patched up mostly harmlessly.

It was good to know. You had never tried it. Though you hadn’t had all that much training before going to sleep for thirty years. But that was what the notes were for, you supposed. To fill in those blanks.

“This seat taken?” One of the new recruits asked. He was a pilot, that much you knew. Not Reggie. This guy was tall, covered in lean muscle. He had something of a mullet, hair a dark brown color.

“Not at all.”

“You’re the princess, right? The Jedi?”

“That would be me.”

“I’m Foxx. I’m with Blue Squadron.”

“Cool. Nice to meet you. Welcome to the Resistance.” You said, turning back to your studies. You could feel his eyes on you, though. 

“Commander Dameron was spreading a rumor, I thought I’d find out if it was true.”

“Oh yeah? And what’s that?”

“He said Jedi aren’t allowed to fall in love. Thought I’d ask you out. See if I could change your mind.” He asked.

You thought he was joking. Wanted him to be joking. But when you looked up, his eyes were dead serious. You laughed.

“Is this that? This is the…asking me out part?” You laughed again and the cocky look on his face flickered. “Listen, kid, I’m flattered. But…Commander Dameron never lies. I don’t date. Especially not flyboys like you.”

You packed up your book and gave him a friendly shoulder pat, chuckling at the irony of it all before moving towards your room to read there instead.

“You don’t date, huh?” Leia asked, walking somewhere. “You and Luke must have changed your minds on that, then.”

You laughed. “Yeah something like that. That or it keeps these ogling rookies off my back.”

“You can’t blame them, you know. I remember when we were the elusive young princesses on base.” She chuckled. “You alone get to share that burden now.”

“The weight of the galaxy on these shoulders.” You said, reminiscent. “How have you been, Leia?”

She offered her hand. “Why don’t we have a talk? It’s been a while.”

“I was going to say the same thing.” You agreed, taking it. The two of you walked back to her quarters and sat in the chairs she had by the window, overlooking, ironically enough, your garden. A flowering tree was growing just beyond the window’s edge, purple and pink hues framing the sight perfectly.

You looked around. There were a few projected holos of her and Han, their wedding, and a boy you could only assume was Ben, or more accurately, Kylo. You shivered.

“How has your training been going?” She asked first.

“Really well. Soren is coming along nicely. He’s a little unsure at first, but once he’s done something a few times, he really gets the hang of it. And Rey, as I’m sure you know, is a natural. I haven’t seen the Force this strong in anyone since…well, since Luke.”

“I barely believed it myself when Han brought her along for the first time. He really warmed up to her. You know how hard that was to pull off.”

“Yeah, no kidding.” You replied, letting out a breath.

“And no one around here has been giving you trouble?”

“Oh, no. Everyone’s been nice.”

“Even Poe?”

“Especially Poe.” You said, lips curling around his name with warmth. 

You met her eyes and…you could tell she knew. She was your best friend, had been since you were girls. Your dads had been friends growing up. Well, her adoptive father, but Bail Organa had been nothing but good to her, whereas Vader had a muddier track record.

“He’s a little reckless,” she said, tone indicating this was the beginning of a list. “Headstrong. He’s got a bit of a rebellious streak. But…he’s incredibly loyal. Brave. I…well, I see a lot of Han in him.”

“I can see why.” You nodded. You saw it too. Hell, you’d thought he was Han, that first time you’d laid eyes on him, your vision blurred.

“Did he tell you about his attempted mutiny?”

“His what?” You asked, sitting more comfortably.

She explained to you what had really happened just before the battle of Crait. The dreadnought incident, Admiral Holdo, and Poe’s attempted mutiny against her before he got stunned. You couldn’t help but chuckle a little, imagining where you’d have fallen in all that. It would have been tricky. Especially if you’d have had higher clearance than Poe, which you would have with his demotion. 

But at the time, Luke was still alive. Part of you was pretty sure you would have been off with him, untangling whatever web was still hanging between you, training Rey together.

“He’s learned a lot since then, I think. It taught him to take a step back, to look at the bigger picture before getting too trigger-happy.” Leia said softly. “I think if we need him, he’d be a great leader. A great general.”

“You’re not going anywhere.” You said, layering your hand over hers. “And you make a great general too, if I do say so myself.”

Her eyes twinkled. “It means worlds to hear you say that.”

“Leia…Poe and I…we’re…”

“Oh, I know.” She laughed. “You’ve never been able to hide things like that from me. I could feel it coming since the two of you first stepped off the Falcon together. He couldn’t take his eyes off of you. I knew then that I’d sent him for a reason. And I think you’re good together, for the record.”

“Thanks.” You chuckled. “So you knew…when we went to that gala…”

“I was hoping you would. Figured it would help get both of your minds back to where they needed to be, instead of dancing around each other like Han and I.”

“We’re still keeping it kind of quiet, though.” You told her. “Just for now. We haven’t talked about…telling people.”

“I know.” She winked. “Take your time. We have a war to win, after all. There are stranger things we have to face than a princess and a pilot falling in love.”

It was like history was echoing, in a lot of ways. You could feel the way it bounced against the caverns, threads interlocking into something new, but familiar. This life, your new life, was made of the same cloth as the old one, after all. But this parallel meant something else to you. Leia and Han, though not forever, got their life together.

You could only hope to get to that point with Poe. A life after the war, a home to settle down in. A wedding. And you hoped Leia would be there, too. You hoped all of them would.

***

In the morning, the second day of Poe’s three-day mission, you laid in bed alone. You hadn’t really dreamt, aside from murmurs of him. His voice, his soft hair between your fingers, his lips. It felt different than your other dreams, the ones you’d had of him in your life before.

They weren’t prophecies anymore. They were real. He was yours.

But it still hurt when you opened your eyes and saw the empty pillow in front of you, didn’t even feel his presence down the hall in his shared room with Finn.

You hoped he was okay out there.

After a quick breakfast, you set out into the forest for more flight training with Soren. You’d set up a few variations on courses, training yourself as much as him, challenging the both of you to fly higher, further, faster. Covering distance would make you indispensable in a fight. Like an X-Wing on the ground, but with a lightsaber instead of a giant blaster. It would also make it easier to get away from a fight, if you needed a quick escape. There weren’t many enemies that could counter that kind of maneuver.

After that, you went into your meditation room to find Finn there, sitting on one of the cushions. Eyes closed, breaths slow and even. Ribbons of sunlight danced across his skin, through the billowing curtains that hung in the window. In front of him, one of your wooden balls wiggled once, twice, before lifting, very slowly, a few inches into the air.

Your eyes widened, staring. You weren’t doing it. Rey and Soren weren’t even there. No, it was Finn, moving it with his mind. With the Force.

“Finn.” You whispered.

His eyes opened and the ball fell. He met your eyes, confused almost, as to why you looked so shocked. “What?”

“You just…You’re Force Sensitive!” You pointed to the ball.

He stared up at you.

“What?”

“You were lifting the ball! I saw it!” You insisted, heart racing with excitement. You’d always known there was something about him. That spark of potential, waiting to be honed.

“I wasn’t trying to. I’ve…been stressed, so I thought I’d try meditation, like you and Rey do.”

You crossed the room, taking both of his hands in yours. “I always knew it. I could feel there was something there. This is…you’re one of us. I don’t want to spring all of this on you at once, but…if you want to, if you’re ready, you can start joining the rest of us for training. See if this is something you want to pursue.”

“You’re being serious.”

“Of course I am.” You nodded, wings fluttering a bit behind you. “We’d have to find you a saber, but…”

“What’s going on?” Rey asked, walking into the room with her staff slung over her shoulder.

You beamed at her. “Finn is Force Sensitive!”

“I knew it!” Her face lit up and she raced into the room, hugging him tightly. “This is incredible! I can’t wait to tell Poe!”

“Me either.” He grinned, opening up the hug to let you in. You hugged them gladly. This was the beginnings of it, you could feel it. These two and Soren. Your class of Jedi.

You were finally setting out to finish the work you had started some thirty years ago.

And you couldn’t wait to tell Poe either, when he finally got back.

***

After dinner, some of the mech crew had a bonfire outside. A small one. Roasted some ronto sausages that were in danger of going bad, cracked open a few saved bottles of liquor. You sat next to Finn, warming in the flickering light.

“He named me, you know. Poe.” He said, voice soft. You could barely hear him above the chirps of the crickets out in the grass.

“I didn’t know that.”

“He and I…when I escaped the First Order, we stole a TIE fighter and blasted our way out. Crashlanded on Jakku. That’s where I met Rey. But during that flight, he asked my name. I didn’t have one. They don’t give Stormtroopers those, just…numbers. An identification code.”

“Mmm…” You hummed, listening. In all your years, Finn was the first defected Stormtrooper you had met, had talked to. You were so glad he’d gotten out.

“And he wasn’t having it. Took the first two letters, F-N, and named me Finn.” He said, a smile pulling at his lips. “I…thought he was dead for a while. Didn’t see him after the crash. But, he’s nothing if not a fighter.”

“Definitely.” You agreed. Your eyebrows furrowed. “Do you…have a last name?”

“No. I don’t even know if I have a family out there, somewhere.” He admitted. “The First Order takes kids from all over. I doubt they keep track of which kids come from where.”

“I’m really sorry, Finn. That must be hard.”

“It was. Is sometimes, if I’m being honest. But Poe, Rey, you…you’ve all made it easier. You’re the closest thing to family I’ve ever had.”

“We are family.” You assured him, reaching over and putting a hand on his shoulder. “You’re more than a brother to me at this point. And someday, wherever we all end up after this war, you’ll always have a place in my home. I mean that.”

He let out a long breath, smiling warmly at you. “Thank you, (Y/N). Would, um…would you mind if I joined you tomorrow morning? For training?”

“I’d be honored if you would.”

Rugged Good Looks

Finn did indeed join the three of you for training, armed, as Soren had once been, with a large stick. You ran him through some basic techniques, since he already had experience with a saber, that seemed like a good place to start. The Force stuff would come in time, but it was clear he already had it, you’d just have to get him to build on it from there.

You sparred with Rey a bit after. She was really good. Her experience with a staff was evident with each flourish and move. You wondered absently if a double-bladed saber would suit her, or where you’d get the kyber crystals for that. Soren would soon be getting to the point where he should be building his own anyway, but you’d have to take a trip for that. A trip you weren’t sure the Resistance could afford, as things were currently.

But Finn would need a saber soon, too…

Soren and Finn ran some drills, Finn watching as your nephew did the first few, the sound of your legacy saber familiar. You were proud that he was wielding it. Proud of him, really. He’d come so far in such a short amount of time. You were sure he’d be ready for field work soon. Couldn’t imagine his mother would be thrilled about it, but you knew he was itching to get out there, to see the galaxy and make a difference in the fight against the First Order.

Just before you and Soren were set to switch to flight training, the sound of several X-Wings coming in for a landing breached the atmosphere. Black Squadron. They were home. A quick headcount of the incoming ships confirmed what you already knew to be true. Poe was fine. He was here. Your heart raced at the thought of it.

“Black Squadron is back!” Rey said, smiling.

“Let’s…call it a day today.” You said, reaching for your water canister and taking a long drink. “Good work today, everyone. We’ll pick up there tomorrow.”

Rey and Finn exchanged a knowing look, but didn’t call you out on it.

“What about flight training, Aunt (Y/N)?” Soren laughed with a chuckle.

“Uhhhhhh I mean, I think we’re both doing pretty good at that, actually. One day off isn’t gonna hurt.” You said, heat blossoming across your cheeks.

The four of you began the long walk back to camp. You were a lot deeper in the woods than when you’d started training with just Rey all those months ago. More Force users meant it was a little more dangerous, the kinds of things you were doing. You didn’t want any unsuspecting comms technicians to stumble on your exercises out there and get seriously hurt.

You were maybe a quarter of the way when you spotted him,  BB-8, barreling towards you at top speed. At first, you thought he was just excited to be back, to see all of you, but then you caught wind of his beeps telling you that Poe was injured. That they’d taken him to the infirmary.

It was like time stopped.

Before you could say anything to the others, make any kind of plan, your wings flexed to their full span and you took off, racing through trees, about seven feet higher than you’d ever flown, soaring right past the mechs and engineers running through camp to take stock of the X-Wings that had just landed. Your speed alone would give a pod-racer pause.

You hung a right, never touching the ground once until you were at the front entrance of the infirmary, dodging through nurses and droids to find where they had him. You were breathless, wings burning. A nurse spotted you and ushered you towards Poe’s room.

From the doorway, you could see his battered orange flight suit. You stepped closer, breaths still heavy, scanning him over for damages as best you could while the nurse took his vitals. It was mostly concentrated to his face, it seemed. Two swollen, purpled black eyes, a broken nose.

“(Y/N)? How did you get here so fast?” Snap asked, standing on the other side of the cot.

You shook your head. “Not important. What happened? Is he okay?”

“I’m fine, sweetheart. Does it look that bad?”

“Can you see?” You asked, taking a few steps closer. It didn’t look like it, the way his eyes were nearly covered by the bruised flesh.

“We’re gettin’ there. Doc said these meds should help with the swelling.” He said, reaching for you, following your voice.

“Does it hurt?”

“Again, lots of meds.”

You chuckled, tears welling in your eyes at the sight of him. Maker, you were glad he was okay. “That wasn’t a no.”

He heard the crack in your voice and the sarcasm immediately melted away. His hand finally met its target: your own, fastening quickly around yours. “I’m fine, baby. It’s okay. Hey, look at me.”

Finn, Rey, and Soren walked in, BB-8 rolling in just after. He beeped out a long string, incredulous.

“You flew here?!” Snap asked, clearly impressed.

“You WHAT?!” Poe asked, wincing after, the enthusiasm of it hurting. “I didn’t know you’d worked up to that already!”

“She didn’t.” Soren said with a laugh. “Just flew. Straight over camp. Didn’t touch down once.”

“Heard you were injured and took off.” Rey added, walking over to stand with you. “Didn’t stay long enough to hear BB-8 say you were okay.”

He let out a lovesick sigh, squeezing your hand as Finn joined the two of you beside his cot. You could tell he wanted to say something else, but held it in with your friends all congregated there. “You should see the other guy.”

“What happened?” You asked.

“Fight with some spice runners in the Outer Rim. They intercepted one of our shipments, so we went to get it back.”

“Poe fought a guy three times his size.” Snap recalled. “Knocked him out, but not before…that.”

“Wow. Sounds like you’re a hero, Commander Dameron.” Finn chuckled.

“Feelin’ real heroic.”

“Looking real heroic.” Rey said, earning laughs from the rest of you.

“Take a scan. Might last you longer. They’re gonna have me back to normal in no time.” He assured, thumb tracing circles in the back of your hand. “What else is goin’ on around here? I was gone three days, I can’t have missed that much.”

“Actually, I just started my Jedi training.” Finn said.

Poe laughed. “Good one.”

“Poe.” You said, trying to meet his eyes. It was hard, with the swelling.

“Wait, what?! Are you serious?” Poe looked from you to Finn, who smiled nervously. “You’re Force Sensitive too? Finn, that’s great! That’s…wow. Maybe I should go on missions more often if you guys are so productive while I’m gone.”

“We need you here, too.” Rey said, smiling softly. “Glad you’re back. Glad you’re okay.”

Finn, Rey, Soren and Snap finished saying their well-wishes to Poe and then got out of there just as the nurse finished up, giving you some time alone with him.

He scooted to the far end of the cot, patting the space he’d left there.

“I don’t want to hurt you, Poe.”

“Don’t care. Come here. I’ve been waiting three days to hold you, I’m not letting some flesh wound get in the way of that.”

You chuckled, sitting on the edge of the cot, facing him. He reached up and took your face in both hands, his touch careful, but definitely more or less affected by the heavy meds they had him on. He pulled your face closer until your nose was touching the end of his and winced when your skin made the lightest contact.

“Careful.” You warned.

“I am being careful.” He insisted.

“Uh-huh. Sure you are. You are known for that.”

He grinned, ignoring the comment. “So tell me again about this flying over the whole base to get here?” He looked down at BB-8, who was still in the room, watching the two of you. “Did you get it? Can you show me?”

BB-8 beeped in affirmation and projected into the air, his memory of you getting the news, eyes zoning out as your wings spread to their full span, and then you took off towards the infirmary at top speed, leaves blown apart by the gust of wind you stirred up behind you.

Poe gasped. “Play it again. Slow it down fifty percent.” He said and BB-8 did just that, playing the clip again, showing the two of you your first full flight ever. You were the first Mariposan in generations to do so. “Wow, baby, you were worried about me, huh?”

“Can you blame me?” You said, turning to look at him, his eyes locked on you, gaze as soft as it could be despite the circumstances.

“I don’t think I could, showing up looking like this.” He chuckled. “I’ve still got my rugged good looks, though, right?”

“Always, hotshot.” You smiled softly. “You’d look badass if you weren’t in so much pain.”

His hand slipped into yours, fingers intertwining. He reached up and tilted your face, doing everything in his power to keep his very broken nose from brushing against yours on the way to your lips, but jolted when it did anyway, letting out a frustrated sigh. “This is gonna be really hard…”

You frowned, looking at his pathetic, pained state. And then Luke’s notes came to mind. Maybe your ex-boyfriend was good for something after all.

“Let me try something.”

“Are you gonna Jedi Mind Trick me into forgetting it hurts every time I try to kiss you? Because that could work…”

Laughter bubbled from your lips. “It would not work, actually. Those wouldn’t work on you.”

“Why is that? I’ve been meaning to ask.”

“Because they only work on idiots.”

He smirked. “Well, like I said, I’m on a lot of meds, so now is the time to experiment with that.”

You scoffed, shaking your head. “I’d hit you if you weren’t already injured.”

“What were you thinking instead?”

“Permission to use the Force on you?”

“Uh, sure. I trust you.” He said, sitting up a little straighter, wincing at the effort it took.

Your hand tightened on his and you zoned in, taking a deep breath and focusing your energy. Your Force. You reached out with the other hand, holding it in front of his injured face. You closed your eyes, fingers splaying as you transferred energy from you to him.

He let out a little breath of astonishment, vision clearing as his swelling went down, bruises clearing to nothing. With a twitch, his nose set back into place. His mouth fell open, realizing what had happened. You’d healed him. You’d used the Force to heal him. Maker, the things that did to him…

You opened your eyes to find him staring back at you, eyes wide, mouth still hanging open. There he was, your Poe, his injuries from moments ago a mere memory. You lowered your hand, waiting for him to say something.

“What the actual fuck. How did you…do that?” He asked, reaching up to touch his face, experimental. When it didn’t hurt, he looked even more surprised.

“Luke left me some notes.” You admitted. “Finally read them. Apparently this is a thing you can do with the Force, transferring your energy to someone or something else. I didn’t know it would work until now.”

“Mmm…” He nodded, unable to fight the smile spreading across his newly healed face. “The nurses are about to be very confused.”

You laughed, leaning towards him, your nose brushing against his. His hands settled on your hips, pulling you a little closer as he finally kissed you, melting when his lips found yours. He reached up and tucked a piece of hair behind your ear, tilting your head as he deepened the kiss.

Part of you worried about someone walking in, seeing the two of you. Part of you didn’t care. You’d waited so long to kiss him again.

He let out a sigh, pressing his forehead to yours, eyes drifting shut for a moment. His lips grazed yours as he whispered, “Three days without you in that cockpit was driving me crazy, starlight. I missed you so much.”

“I missed you, too.”

“Let’s get outta here. Go back to yours. Make up for lost time.” He said, eyes half lidded as he pressed a gentle kiss to your lips, tugging your waist closer. “Before we get caught in here recreating all the fantasies that have been haunting me.”

You gasped, playfully scandalized. “In front of BB-8?”

He glanced over, as if reminded his droid was sitting there. “Oh. Right. Bee, you wanna go recharge? It’s been a long few days.”

He agreed with a series of beeps, rolling out through the curtained doorway towards his charger in Finn and Poe’s room.

You stood from the bed and helped Poe up after. Once you were both upright, he couldn’t fight the urge any longer, an arm hooking around your back, just beneath your wings, sweeping you into a dip and connecting his lips with yours.

A wistful hum pulled itself from your throat, eyes fluttering shut at the passion in his movements. He really had been thinking through this for three days.

Poe stood you on your feet again, punctuating it with a kiss to your nose, then a kiss to your cheek, and then finally to your lips again. Then, he straightened himself out, leading you out of the room and into the bustling heart of the infirmary.

“Hey, uh, Nurse, am I good to go?” Poe asked, grinning when she looked him up and down, eyes widened at his suddenly healed face.

“Y-you…your face.”

“Don’t compliment him, it’ll just go to his head. Trust me.” You advised.

“Those meds really must have been something. I feel great. I’ve got some work to get back to, though, if you could clear me.”

“Uh, s-sure. Yeah, you look…yeah, that’s fine. Let us know if anything changes.”

“Will do.” Poe saluted, a hand settling on the middle of your back, a painfully neutral position as he guided you through the camp that you’d flown over not twenty minutes earlier.

Some of the recruits watched you, whispering to each other. You weren’t sure if it was about you and Poe, being seen together once again nearly as soon as he’d touched down, Poe’s injuries miraculously vaporizing, or your little flight. Maker, you really had given them a lot to whisper about lately.

You walked back to your quarters, waving amicably at friends of yours. A few stopped for smalltalk, but Poe was on a new mission, continuously guiding you back to the bedrooms. You punched in your code, ushering him in first while no one was watching.

As soon as you were both through the door, he closed it with his palm on the control panel, grabbing you by the hips and pulling you into him, crushing his lips against yours. You let out a gentle moan, hand wandering up into his curls, the other settling against the fabric of his jumpsuit.

You reached for his zipper, fingers fastening around the metal and tugging it down, earning a groan from him, a rasped breath.

“You know, I love it when you do it with the Force, but the other way is great, too.” He said, backing up towards the bed before pulling you down with him, wriggling his shoulders out of the restrictive suit.

He pulled it off, leaving him in an undershirt and boxers, laying on your bed, an orange heap on the floor. You hovered over him, a leg on either side, straddling his hips. One large hand ghosted over your thigh tattoo before they both found new spots, one against your cheek, keeping your face close to his, the other massaging circles on your lower back, edging closer and closer to your wings, but not daring to brush against the spot between them. Not yet, anyways.

The two of you made out for a while, eventually settling into a comfortable cuddling position, you slotted to his side, a leg thrown over his. His arm was wrapped around your waist, your wing spread like a blanket across him while his other hand gently ran down its silken surface.

“I can’t believe you flew to me, baby.” He whispered, still in disbelief. “Flew right over camp. No Mariposan has flown in…what, four generations? Five?”

“You would have too, if you had wings.” You smiled warmly, fingers wandering across his broad chest, stopping to linger on the healing amulet. It had done its job. It had brought him back to you, although a little more injured than you would have liked. But that hardly mattered now. He didn’t even have a scar to show for it. “You’ve been doing your research.”

“‘Course I have. I’m dating the Mariposan princess, after all. I take the responsibility very seriously. Someday, when everyone knows, they’re gonna ask me all the questions, and I’m gonna need to have all the answers.”

“Leia knows. She…figured it out a while ago, I think.”

He chuckled. “That checks out. Snap’ll probably figure it out if he hasn’t already. He heard me call you ‘baby’ today, and he knows I don’t just throw that word around. We can blame it on the meds, though.”

“You think he’ll buy it?”

Poe grinned. “No.”

You laughed, tilting your head up to press a kiss to his cheek, then the corner of his lips.

“Will you grab my jumpsuit?”

You nodded, extending a hand and using the Force to raise the jumpsuit off the floor. He plucked it from the air, digging into the pocket to pull something out. A thin strap of braided leather, light and dark brown woven together. Carefully, he wrapped it around your wrist, clasping the ends so it fit comfortably against your skin.

“Got this for you. At a little market. I read something, maybe it’s not true, about…Mariposans and bracelets. That you’re supposed to give them one to tell them you’d like to…court. I know it’s old-fashioned, but…”

“It’s true.” You smiled, lacing your fingers through his. “So we’re super official, then.”

“I was hoping so.” He murmured, pulling your arm up over his shoulder, drawing you closer and pressing his lips to yours, moving slow, savoring every taste of you. “I’m yours, (Y/N). Always have been. Since the moment you opened those beautiful eyes in that pod. Said you liked my hair and thought I was Han Solo.”

“Is that the way to your heart?” You asked, reaching up to play with the curls in question.

He smiled, taking your hand and kissing up your arm, past your shoulder, up to your lips. “One of ‘em.”

You murmured sweet nothings against his lips, finding them again and again, over and over, his hand gently sweeping down the length of your wing.

Eventually, the two of you would have to go back out there, figure out what came next. What the next move was, both for the war and your relationship. But for now, it was you and him.

Your pilot. Your Poe. And maybe someday, your prince.

Downpour and a Bottle of Wine

A few days later, Leia called another strategy meeting. This one was smaller, essential folks only. This, of course, meant your boyfriend and almost your entire friend group, thankfully, as well as your sister and the rest of the Admirals.

“Our recruitment numbers are at an all-time high, which is…really great. Our new recruits have been training and fitting into life on the base very well, and despite our new garden, courtesy of our Mariposan royals, our supplies are…dwindling. We’ll need to get our hands on more ships, more weapons, more raw materials, more food.”

One of the analysts spoke up about some allies at farms a few systems out that were willing to provide animals, food, crops. The gardens would have to be expanded for the longterm as well. Chewbacca offered to reach out to some of his friends to secure even more resources to keep everyone fed.

“The Hoth base. Is that still there?” You asked, fiddling with the braided leather bracelet on your wrist. “We didn’t clear the place before we left it. In theory, there’d still be stuff there. Weapons. Potentially ships.”

“Definitely ships. If they haven’t been stolen, scrapped for parts.” Wedge spoke up. “We had four X-Wings we had to abandon because they needed repairs. A few transports, too. Plus plenty of building materials we could mine from the structures, if we aren’t planning on going back there in a permanent capacity.”

“It’s cold.” Leia said, unable to hide her smirk. “The team we’ll send will have to bundle up.”

Chewbacca volunteered himself, being more than equipped for the cold. Artoo would go, Threepio.

“Black Squadron can go to recover those ships, General.” Poe volunteered. “We’ll need some mechs to help us fix them up.”

“And some Jedi to dig them out of the snow.” Leia looked to the three, now four, of you, seated all in a row.

“Absolutely, General. Whatever you need.” You agreed, Poe’s eyes flicking to you and then away, a small smile all but concealed on those plush pink lips.

Leia finalized the team. Soren smiled when his name was thrown into the ring and agreed gladly to go. His first mission. But you knew he was ready for it. He’d trained for so long. He was confident with a saber, he was good at using his wings, and the Force was strong with him. He’d be fine. More than fine, if everything went smoothly. It would just be on you to make sure he didn’t freeze to death.

The higher-ups would notify the rest of their teams of their upcoming mission so they could pack warm enough clothes. Undershirts on undershirts, all the jackets that could be spared. Thick socks and scarves and knitted masks.

You left the meeting and started packing immediately, grabbing some warmer clothes from storage.

“Will you help me pack?” Rey asked, walking in there right after you.

“Absolutely. You’re a desert girl. The key to not dying on Hoth is layers and layers and layers. Heavy layers. The opposite of what you’re used to, I’m sure.” You said, and she nodded. 

Out in the heat, light layers that covered your skin were necessary to keep the sun off your back. On Hoth, the air itself was trying to kill you.

You helped her pick a few undershirts, warm leggings and snow pants and snow jackets. Gloves and hats and goggles, and then the two of them hauled it all back to your room to lay it all out for the morning.

“Would you mind terribly if I spent the night in here? We’re leaving so early tomorrow, I thought…” Rey asked. She looked around. “I can sleep on the floor.”

“Oh no, here.” You reached up above your bed and pulled the second bunk out of the wall, the bunk you never used.

Her face lit up. “Oh! I didn’t know they did that!”

“They never gave me a roommate, I’m assuming because they wanted me to adjust to…being alive again. But the bed has always been here. Ideal for sleepovers, one might say.”

“Excellent.” Her arms were wrapped around herself. “There’s…there’s something I’ve been meaning to ask you about.”

“Yeah, sure, what’s on your mind?” You asked. You fully expected it to be about you and Poe. Compared to what it actually was, you kind of wished it was about Poe. It would have been easier.

Instead, she said, “I’ve…been connecting to Kylo Ren a lot. I keep having dreams about him and…sometimes when we’re awake, I can see him and he can see me. Never where we are, but…we’ve been connected for some time. I’m not sure why. I was wondering if it was normal, or…how to stop it if it’s not.”

“I’ve never heard of something like that before.” You admitted, very serious. “Luke and I were definitely connected, but not like that. Is he…mean to you? You get nightmares about him?”

“They’re not really nightmares, they’re just…we talk. He’s wanted me to join him. I obviously wouldn’t. He’s…”

“Right.”

She took a breath, thinking. “Do you ever…feel the pull to the dark side?”

There it was. Leia had told you, a long time ago, that this was something Rey struggled with. And obviously, Ben had as well, but he’d lost his fight.

“I think we all do, Rey. There’s nothing wrong with you. The Force isn’t just light or dark, it’s both. When we use the Force, we all open ourselves up to the temptation of the dark side, abilities locked to us, the secrets it promises to share. No person is completely good or completely evil. I think Luke was pretentious about that. But he had to be, his dad was Vader, you know? He and Palpatine were constantly trying to get in his head.” You said, letting her think for a moment before saying. “You’re my friend, Rey. I see the light in you, I always have. You’ve been through so much pain, but still cling to hope. That’s all we can do. One fight at a time, one morning at a time, letting the Force guide us.”

She smiled at that, reaching for your hand. You gave it to her. “Thank you.”

“Any time.” You nodded. “We have to get you a new saber soon. Finn, too. I was thinking about asking Leia after the Hoth trip. Seeing if there’s any way we could get our hands on one. Or some kyber crystals. Unfortunately, those things are not just lying around.”

“A new saber?”

“It’s a coming of age thing. Traditionally, you start training with an heirloom saber, but eventually, you should build your own, unique to you and your journey. There’s no rush to do so, but I feel like you’re ready. Soren, too.”

She nodded. “That would be nice.”

Your door slid open and Poe came in, staring at the two of you wide-eyed. You were just lucky he didn’t hit you with the standard greeting of, “hey, baby, I got a cut, can you kiss it better?” Would have been a little harder to explain away.

“Oh. Hi, ladies.” He said, looking back and forth between you.

“Poe, do you know my code?” You asked him, eyes narrowing.

“Might have picked it up at some point…” He admitted.

“You’re looking awful recovered for someone who had an estimated three weeks of recovery ahead of them.” Rey said, arms crossed. “How did that happen, anyway?”

“Don’t look at me, look at her.” Poe said, pointing at you.

“Turns out, I’ve got some stuff to teach you, actually.” You told her. “Luke left us some notes.”

She pointed to his face, looking at you, impressed. “You did that?”

“Can’t take credit for all of it, but yeah. The rest is just good genetics.”

“Heh, thanks, Princess. Anyways, the guys were thinking of having a little thing out at the cantina if our Jedi would like to make an appearance.” Poe said, which explained the patterned button-down he was wearing, top buttons unbuttoned just far enough to reveal the Mariposan healer’s amulet underneath. “Before we all go freeze our asses off on Hoth.”

“Don’t have to ask me twice.” You chuckled, looking to Rey. “You coming?”

“Yeah, absolutely.” She smiled. “We’ll see you down there.”

***

You and Poe made your appearance at the party, separated from each other, which was…odd to anyone who knew you. You made your rounds, having a drink or two, joking and laughing and catching up. You talked about the mission, figuring out who all was going. Aspen was, as it turned out. It would be one of her first field missions. Rose was going too, to help get the heating system working so you didn’t all freeze to death spending the night there. Chewbacca was going, too, which brought back memories to say the very least.

You played a few rounds of Space Pong, danced with Rey, and then caught Poe’s eyes. He was holding a bottle of wine, standing by the door, eyes saying everything his mouth could not from that distance.

You got the hint.

He slipped out the door first and you followed after a few minutes, claiming to want to get to sleep earlier for the busy day ahead. You gave Rey your room code and then left, walking out towards the clearing.

You looked around for any sign of him, out in the dark, but you didn’t see him. Just before you reached out to see if the Force could guide you to him instead, he jumped out from behind a tree, grabbing you around the waist and spinning you around.

A surprised squeal fell from your mouth and he kissed up your neck, shushing you.

“Gotta be quiet if you don’t wanna get caught, your Highness.” He murmured, kissing behind your ear, voice soft and sultry.

“Been a while since you’ve hit me with the your Highness, Commander.” You chuckled as he set you down. You turned to face him, one hand tugging him in for a kiss.

“I can use it more often, if you want.”

You shook your head. “No thank you. I much prefer the other names you call me.”

He grinned. “Like Princess?”

You laughed, giving his chest a playful push, nose scrunched. “I don’t like that one either.”

He perked up. “Wait, you seriously don’t like your titles?”

“Not particularly.” You admitted with a shrug.

“Why didn’t you ever say anything?” He asked, fingers sliding into their natural place, intertwined with your own.

“Well, it’s just…I mean, they’re practical when people are slinging titles around, I guess. General this and Admiral that. A ‘your Highness’ is fine there. But I like when people just call me (Y/N). And I like when you call me all sorts of things.” You said, wrapping an arm around his neck and pressing a kiss to his lips. “You can call me whatever you want, Poe. It always sounds right when you do it.”

His arm tentatively wrapped around your waist, still holding onto the wine bottle he’d snagged. “Well then, (Y/N), might I steal you away for the rest of the evening?”

“I’d be honored.”

The two of you walked up to the clearing together, hand in hand, swinging them between you as you stood beneath the stars. No wonder Poe loved flying so much. It looked like this all the time up there.

You sat on the grass, Poe beside you, leg against yours. He popped open the wine bottle and offered you the first sip. You almost giggled, tilting it back. You couldn’t count the times you’d been sitting just like that, sharing bottles with his mother. You had the same taste in wine, after all.

He took a drink from it next, setting it in the grass, twisting it a few times into the soft soil so it stood upright. He wrapped an arm around your waist, the other hand turning your face towards his, searching your eyes as though they held the keys to the universe.

He exhaled, staring at you like you were a painting in a museum and he was committing every detail to memory. “I’ve been fighting hard to keep the new recruits off of you.”

You giggled. “I heard about that. Apparently Jedi aren’t allowed to fall in love, huh?”

“Well, we’ll just have to hope that is a vicious rumor someone started.”

“Someone!” You laughed, pushing against his chest.

“Yeah, they must have gotten it wrong.” He said through a smile, arms grasping onto yours. “Because…this feels like that to me.”

He left the door open then, for you to say it in words. For him to say it back. And you did love him. Had for longer than you’d known. But saying it outright still felt wrong.

Instead, you replied, “I think we both know it is.”

He melted against you like a wave on the shore, sweet with the taste of the wine you were sharing, sip by sip. The two of you watched the sky for a while, sharing the wine until the bottle was nearly empty and the two of you were tipsy on the warm feelings swirling between you.

You barely noticed when the first raindrop fell. Nearly missed the second and third. But the downpour after was pretty hard to ignore.

“Maker, this came out of nowhere.” You said, wings flaring as you got to your feet. Poe stood beside you, eyes following a drop of water that trailed down your nose. “We should get back.”

“Wait,” Poe grabbed your arm, turning you towards him as he kissed you, his lips warm in the rain that was steadily soaking both of your clothes, your hair.

Your arms wandered up, hands linking around his neck as his wrapped around your waist, head tilting as a raindrop ran down the slope of his nose, onto your lips. You reached into his rain-soaked curls, grasping the collar of his jacket with the other hand. It was breathless, reckless, your heart racing in your chest flush with his as the lights of camp glowed in the distance.

Tomorrow, you’d be on a planet covered in feet of snow, but tonight, you stood in the warm rain, kissing Poe Dameron. There was no other place in the entire galaxy you’d rather be.

Eventually, you wandered back, held each other’s hands until you got close enough to get caught by whoever was on first watch. You nodded at acquaintances and coworkers, walking back to the housing quarters. Finn, Rey, and Rose were sitting in the front lounge when you came in, both absolutely soaked, head to toe.

“I thought you two came back here an hour ago.” Finn said, eyes narrowing.

“(Y/N) heard something outside. Concerning noises. I offered to go check it out with her, but we got caught in this kriffin’ downpour.” Poe said, taking off his jacket and shaking the water from it. He’d thought about letting you wear it for the walk back, but you were both already soaked. And you showing up in his jacket would only be more incriminating.

You shook our your wings in the same manner, water splattering across the floor. A cleaner droid powered up automatically, its brushes swirling to dry up the rain you’d tracked in. “Thanks for the help, Dameron.”

“No problem, yo–” he caught himself. “(Y/N). Glad to be of assistance. Have a good night.”

“You, too. See you tomorrow.” You said, walking back towards your quarters, Rey trailing after you, that knowing glimmer in her eye.

The two of you got dressed for bed, brushed your teeth, and got into your bunks, you on the bottom, Rey on the top. It was kind of comforting, the sound of her breathing. You’d missed having a roommate. Maybe after the trip, it wouldn’t hurt to open your door to a bunkmate again. But then that would severely limit your cuddling time with Poe, given that he also shared a room…

You took a deep breath, closing your eyes and willing yourself to sleep, lulled by the warmth in Poe’s chest across the hallway as he thought of you while he drifted off.

Hoth

The next morning, you and Rey got out of bed pretty early, throwing on the layers and layers of your cold weather uniforms. Jedi robes simply would not cut it on that planet. You’d learned that lesson once before.

You strapped your saber to your belt, a blaster to the other side, and set a pair of goggles on your head to protect your eyes once you got there. You met the others in the canteen to grab meals for the road, and then headed out to the transports, where the rest of the crew was slowly but surely assembling.

Soren was all smiles, helping Poe and Finn load up some boxes of supplies. Food, mostly. There was nearly nothing edible on that planet, aside from the wildlife, that was. But that would only be an option if the weather was nice enough to not immediately kill anyone brave enough to hunt out there. Nice being a relative term, of course.

“Ready for your first mission?”

“Yeah.” He replied, a boyish grin on his face. “Is it really that cold there?”

“Freezing cold. Constant blizzards. Trust me, you’d rather have too many layers than too few.” You advised. “Morning Finn! Poe.”

“You are looking rather…” Poe’s eyes scanned down your figure, obscured by the puffy jacket you were wearing. “Warm.”

“That’s one way to put it.” You chuckled. “You are not looking warm enough. Get those ears covered, Dameron.”

“Yes, ma’am.” He gave a nod, winking when he thought no one was looking.

Rose was coming along, Aspen, Black Squadron along with some of the new pilots. It would be a good mission for them, a relatively straightforward one. Well, in theory. Nothing was ever as simple as it seemed.

Chewbacca roared in greeting, his hand patting your head before he pulled you into a bear hug. You laughed, nodding.

“No, you’re right, I never thought I’d ever go back there either.”

Leia stood at the edge of the depot, smiling softly. She waved and you saluted, promising silently to get them all back to her in one piece, hopefully with endless bounties that would serve the Resistance well.

You and Soren said a quick, heartfelt goodbye to Laesynda and then loaded up into the transport with the others, watching as the planet got smaller and smaller.

You sat beside Rey and Soren on one side of the transport, Finn and Poe across the aisle with Snap. Chewbacca was driving, Threepio in the passenger seat up in front with him. You bent over and laced up your boots extra well, making sure your gloves were on tight enough, even though it was quite a ways out. Your wings twitched every so often, nerves building.

Suddenly, you weren’t so sure why would had suggested this place to begin with. You didn’t have many great memories of Hoth. Specifically, the outside stuff. Inside the base was fine, when the heaters were working as intended, that was. But the creatures outside were terrifying, and the weather had almost killed you. Literally.

Maybe you hadn’t prepared them well enough.

You felt Poe poking around your energy across the aisle, or trying to. Thinking very loudly. Reaching, watching. You met his eyes, giving him a pointed look.

He chuckled out loud, caught in the act, cheeks flushing red. Finn and Rey both turned to find out what was so funny. You focused your attention elsewhere and he blamed his chuckles on just how kriffing ridiculous you all looked, bundled up like marshmallows. It got a good laugh out of everyone.

Dread settled into your stomach as Chewie brought the transport out of lightspeed and into the planet’s atmosphere, the white globe familiar in the sickest of ways. He landed as close to the abandoned base as possible, but it would still be a bit of a walk.

You stood, taking a small canister from your pack while everyone bundled the rest of the way up. It was a specialty gel coating for your wings. You took a glob, gently rubbing between your fingers before spreading it carefully from the base of your wings outward. Soren did the same, making quick work of it.

“Can I help?” Poe asked, voice gentle, quiet, in case the answer was no because there were people around.

You nodded, handing the canister to him, showing him how to portion it and he helped, fingers gentle and careful, but thorough, grazing over the pink and purple extensions of your soul.

“What does this stuff do?” He asked, curious. He was always so curious about your wings. It was sweet, really.

“Protects them from the cold. Otherwise, they’d freeze.” You explained. “They’re delicate things, after all.”

“Beautiful, though.” He said, eyes warm, voice warmer.

“I happen to think they’re my best feature.” You said with a smirk, lost in him for a moment. His fingers gently finished up, fully sealing them from the harsh winds. You were ready.

You assembled the essential team. You, Rey, and Soren to move big chunks out of the way, and a handful of mechs to get the heating started as soon as possible. Plus, Chewbacca and a few fighters in case some scavengers were in the wreckage and didn’t take kindly to strangers.

“We’ll hold down the fort here.” Finn said, sticking an earpiece in his ear, same as the others.

“Good. Stay together. No one wanders off alone. Keep bundled up. Cover your skin. Even a few minutes out there can give you frostbite.” You instructed everyone. They nodded, listening intently.

“Good luck out there.” Snap said. He smiled a little, watching as you took control of the situation. Despite your appearance, you were wise and experienced beyond your years. “And may the Force be with you.”

You met his eyes. “And with us all.”

You led the others through the snow and blistering winds, face shielded by your mask, hood, and goggles.

The doors were sealed shut, thankfully. You held up a hand, working in tandem with Rey and Soren to pop it open without too much trouble. Three Jedi were far better than one. You could only imagine the things you’d be able to accomplish when Finn was with you, too.

Inside, a ceiling panel had collapsed, a great rush of snow covering a stairwell and one of the hallways leading to the bedrooms. You led the mechs to the utility room, where the controls for the heaters were while Rey and Soren worked to seal off the hole, holding the metal in place so it could be sautered shut, at least temporarily.

Chewbacca did a sweep of the perimeter, as quickly as he could, blocking off a decent chunk so you could get settled at least for now. You didn’t want to leave the rest of the team in the transport for too long.

With a triumphant thrum, the power kicked on, lights in the hallways flickering before illuminating the place in the stark, fluorescent lights. The team cheered, signaling to the others that it was safe to come in. And they did, marching up the hill in their snow boots. They’d have to try to move the transport closer later, you figured. Otherwise, loading the place up was going to be nearly impossible.

You walked down the hallway with the bedroom quarters, taking note of their state. Most of them looked fine. Dusty, but fine otherwise. You kept walking until you found the one you were looking for. Seventh room on the left. You punched in your code, still committed to muscle memory after three months spent sleeping there.

You stepped inside, careful, and looked around the room. It wasn’t terribly small, one of the perks of having a base dug into the inside of a mountain. Two bunks rested against the right side of the room, a small desk on the left, a wardrobe standing beside it. A few pairs of boots were sitting beside the door, under the floor-length mirror that was slowly defrosting as the temperature raised.

A book of notes sat open on the desk, a frozen inkwell perched on the corner in front of a few dust-covered books.

“This is quite the place.” Poe noted, stepping into the tiny room after you. “Bigger than I thought it would be.”

“Took the crew three years to dig it out.” You remembered, fingers lingering on the cold desk. “I only lived here for three months.”

“Is this…?”

“Our room.” You said, turning to look at him. “Shara and I.”

He’d taken off his goggles, the headband around his head. You dared to take off a glove. It was definitely warming up, slowly but surely. You shed your goggles too, threading the band through your belt.

He stared at the bottom bunk, where his mother’s name was painted in blue, the Aurebesh crisp and neat. His fingers slid across the letters.

You turned back to the desk, flipping through the journal. They were notes, mostly. Your notes, from your Jedi training. “I forgot about this book. It would have helped after Luke left.”

“Luke left you? Another time?”

“He went off to Dagobah to train with Yoda. I stayed with the Resistance–sorry, Rebels. They needed me. Or one of us, at the very least. Han and Leia were off dealing with…all sorts of stuff. I didn’t catch up with them until it was too late.” You said, continuing to flip through it until you found what you were looking for. Tucked between the pages was a scrap of paper Shara had scribbled on.

(Y/N),

Thanks for letting me borrow your earrings. Please get some sleep after that crazy night. I’ll save you some bacon before the pathfinders get to it.

-Shara

In the note, there were two small holes, where she’d punctured the earrings to make sure they got back to you in one piece.

You handed it to Poe, letting him read it. He smiled, eyes swirled with nostalgia and sadness. He forgot sometimes, but this was all the confirmation he needed. You had been friends with her. Passed notes back and forth like schoolgirls.

“Can I keep this?” He asked.

You nodded. “Yeah, of course.”

He reached for you, pulling you to his chest and resting his head against yours. It healed something in him, he was sure. Part of him, growing up without her, always mourned the fact that he would never get to introduce his future partner to her, the woman who had inspired him to fly in the first place, the woman whose ring he wore around his neck. But you’d already met her. And it was clear she’d been fond of you. It felt like fate, to him.

“Was Dad here, too?”

“Down the hall.” You nodded. “Three doors down on the left.”

“You two taking this one?” Finn asked, poking into the room. “We’re all picking quarters for the night.”

“Yeah, we’ll take this one.” Poe said, pointing to your name painted across the top bunk. “I’d say she’s probably got dibs.”

Finn smiled. “Fair.” His eyes wandered to the bottom bunk. “Who’s that?”

“My mom was her roommate.” Poe explained, eyes twinkling.

“I didn’t know your parents were Resistance.”

“They were Rebels.” Poe corrected gently. He nudged you with his arm, pride absolutely radiating off of him. “So was she.”

***

After hours of harvesting materials and packing up supplies into crates, Chewie had taken some of the others to hunt, most of them crazy thrillseekers that were desperate to experience the cold out there and see if it was really that bad. Rookies, in other words.

They were successful. They’d found a mammal of some kind. Nothing you recognized. Definitely not a Wampa. And everyone seemed to be okay, more or less.

“It’s kriffing cold as shit out there!” One of the rookies exclaimed, taking off their gloves.

“Nooooo, I never would have guessed.” You said quietly, nursing a cup of tea near the firepit in one of the lounges. There was a furnace that ran up through the mountain to vent the smoke.

Chewie got the beast ready, showing the rookies how to prepare the meat, how to cook it properly. You watched fondly. It brought back memories, it all did.

You’d finally taken off your jacket, just wearing a pair of sweats with a layer of leggings underneath, a sweater with a hole stitched in the back for your wings. You were working on another top by the fire, pulling the needle through, hemming the hole so it wouldn’t fray.

“What are you doing?” Finn asked, watching as you worked.

“Most of my clothes have to be modified like this for these things.” You waved a wing around aimlessly. “If I don’t, the fabric will fray and it’ll ruin the garment. I usually hem it as best as I can to reinforce it.”

“They don’t really make clothes for us anymore.” Soren said, familiar with the process, you were sure, having a pair of wings of his own. “Mom said there were seamstresses on Mariposas who made the most beautiful things we could wear with our wings. She still has some of them.”

“They were the coolest ladies ever. They’re the ones who taught me to do this. Knew I was gonna run off with the Rebellion and that most of their uniforms wouldn’t work for me.” You said, tying off the stitches with a little knot. You showed your work to Poe, who was sitting just too far, a few scooches to your right. You’d sewn a little X-Wing near the base of the slot, orange stitches on black fabric.

He smiled into his mug of warm caf, eyebrow quirking up the tiniest bit. You were his girl, after all. His chest swelled with pride at any reminder.

You set the garment to the side, following the others once Chewie was dishing out servings of food. Everyone settled in with a hot meal, like old times.

“What was it like out here back then?” Snap asked, everyone watching you and Chewie for answers. “What did you guys do out here for those months?”

“Hiding, mostly. It was the perfect base for that. The Empire never thought they’d find us on an oversized ice cube. It’s mostly uninhabitable, as many of you just learned. Signal was iffy out here, but we worked with what we had. We used to make what we called Hoth Ice Cream. We’d mix the cream from our milk batches with sugar and crushed berries and stick it outside for a few minutes until it froze.”

Chewie roared, explaining just how little you had to work with. How far your scraps had to stretch.

“Oh we were always scrappy. Had to be, we had so little. These days, we’ve got some support. Back then…no one wanted to stand up to Vader. Rebels were few and far between and we had a pretty bad reputation. I believe the word ‘Scum’ got thrown around a lot.”

Chewie laughed, nodding. He told a few stories about the tauntauns, about Luke’s encounter with the Wompa, wondering if there were more of them.

“I nearly froze to death out there.” You confessed, feeling the way Poe’s eyes jumped to you. “One of our communication dishes got caked in ice, so I flew up there to try to dig it out. Wind blew me off the roof and Chewie found me out in the snow, half dead. Carried me back, cuddled me to warmth. Saved my life.”

He roared affectionately, tilting his head.

“Of course I would have done the same for you, but I’m not nearly as warm as you. I don’t think my body temperature alone would have done much.” You chuckled.

He joked about you using your wings as a fan the next time he was really hot, and you agreed to that.

You told them about the music. At some point, you’d let it slip to the Rebels that music was a very important part of Mariposan culture, so the team had improvised instruments out of scraps. Drums made from scrapped ship parts and pieces of leather Chewie tanned, flutes carved from thick pine tree branches. You got up and dug around a box in the corner of the room, pulling one out. Hand-carved.

“One of the pathfinders made this for me.” You said, walking back to your spot and sitting down, dusting it off, brushing the mouthpiece with your sleeve before giving it a cursory test. It worked, making a gentle note when you blew into it. You tested some of the finger holes, trying out different combinations and building a clumsy little melody from home.

The room was quiet, listening as you played. You smiled, bashful beneath their combined gazes, and tucked the flute away.

Artoo beeped and rolled into the middle of the room, BB-8 watching from his corner. Into the air, he projected a video, Rebels singing and dancing to folk songs from their various home planets. Drums banging, someone hitting spoons against pots and pans. Flutes and improvised fiddles. Light and laughter.

In the back corner of the room, you and Luke danced, lost in each other. He spun you around, pulling you back to him. He looked so young there.

Shara was sitting next to Kes, who was drumming on one of the drums. He got boisterous with it, making Shara laugh, a melody in itself. Glimmering around her finger was the ring Poe wore around his neck.

He reached for your hand and you gave it to him, watching this piece of your life Artoo had been holding onto for all this time. You wondered what else he had stored in that seemingly endless memory of his. 

Poe’s thumb brushed over yours, and he used his foot to tug your chair closer to his, unwilling to be apart from you any longer, despite what the others would think. It seemed none of them noticed, or maybe they thought it was par for the course at that point. Poe had never been shy about touching you, or anybody, really, even before you had been dating in secret.

He smiled at you, eyes soft. And for a moment, you were glad you’d come. You were glad he was there with you.

Eventually, the guys found the alcohol that hadn’t exploded after thirty years frozen and the room cheered up significantly.

Rose motioned you over and you sat on the floor in front of her while she braided your hair. Rey shared a cup of something strong with you and you took a few sips, leaning back against Rose’s legs.

“Hey, when did you get this?” Rey asked, touching the woven leather bracelet on your wrist. “Is it new? I’ve never seen it before.”

“Oh! Yeah, uh…Poe got it for me.” You smiled.

“Poe got it for you, huh?” Rose asked. “That was nice of him. I didn’t realize you two were so close.”

“Yeah, we’ve really bonded since I woke up.” You said with a smile and a shrug, glancing over at him. “We keep…finding each other.”

He was knelt on the floor in front of Artoo, talking to him about something. You assumed he was probably trying to get a copy of that footage. You didn’t blame him. Droids, though pretty common, were still not something everyone had, especially back then. Artoo was probably one of the only droids with footage of his parents.

The other pilots started up a game of Truth or Dare, and it worked around and around the circle. You giggled at the antics, at the spicy secrets people spilled with their resolve weakened by liquid courage. Yours was dwindling, too. You were one well-placed dare away from kissing Poe Dameron hot on the mouth, right in front of everyone.

You supposed it was good luck, then, that he was the one asking you that fateful question.

“Truth.” You replied, knees tucked into your chest, hair braided down your shoulders like you were a teen at a sleepover. In some ways, you guessed you were.

“Why don’t you like it when people use your royal titles?” He asked, eyebrow quirking up in that signature expression of his. That Dameron smolder. He had used it to get the upper hand on many unsuspecting maidens, you were sure. It always did something to you.

“Mmmm, alright.” You thought, chuckling. “Poe, you can ask me any question in the galaxy right now, are you sure you want to waste it on that?”

“Yep. I want to know.” He shrugged, leaning back in his chair, sitting across the circle from you, painfully far away. This drunk, you wanted him next to you. Another drink and you’d be sprawled all over him, didn’t matter who was watching. “Why do you squirm every time someone calls you Princess?”

“Princess isn’t the worst. I don’t mind that one so much.” You said. “I don’t like the ‘your Highnesses.’ They just…maybe it’s stupid, I don’t know, but…everyone on base earned their titles. Everyone. Every general and admiral and captain and commander, all of ‘em. They all earned those fancy words and I did not. I was born a special person and got my titles handed to me on a silver platter. It feels like stolen valor. Even Leia’s a general now, and…yeah, that’s kind of it. Just feels icky sometimes.”

“You’ve earned them.” Finn said, eyes serious. “You’ve more than earned them.”

“You’re too kind, Finnley.” You replied, a hand on your heart.

“Finnley…” Finn chuckled to himself at the elongated name.

“No, he’s right. That first day I saw you in action, I knew you were the real deal.” Snap said, sounding impressed. Really, genuinely impressed. “All the stories started to make sense, the way you flipped through the air.”

“A Jedi of old…” Jessika agreed, Rey nodding along.

“And you wear those little crowns sometimes. Princesses usually wear those.” Aspen added, sitting beneath one of Chewbacca’s fur-covered arms, cuddled against his side.

You laughed at that one. “Valid point. I don’t know, I’m warming up to them. But you all can call me (Y/N), also. We’re friends.”

“Mom wanted to work titles out with you after the war.” Soren said. “She’s…well, she’s acting queen now, but technically–”

“Oh no I do not want to be queen.” You shut that down, holding up your hand. “That’s where the line is drawn. I was second-born. I was never supposed to be queen in the first place and then I died. Your mother earned that title. She’s been here, boots on the ground, helping the remaining Mariposans. She’s the queen and I’ll tell her that myself, Prince Soren.”

He grinned. “Why did I have a feeling you’d say something like that?”

“Because you know me so well, dearest nephew. Now, where were we…ah, yes, Rey, truth or dare?”

She smiled. “It’s going to have to be dare.”

The game continued until the group began to dwindle, retiring for bed one by one. Chewbacca put out the fire and the heaters were turned down slightly to conserve power overnight. If you guys blew a fuse, you were fucked. Heat was a commodity that could not be wasted on a planet like Hoth.

You walked back to the room before Poe did, tossing an extra blanket up to your top bunk. The beds here were smaller than your bunk back home. If you and Poe had a tight fit in the other bed, this would be near impossible. For that reason, you’d probably sleep separate.

You climbed up top, as you had done so many times, and sat up there, scrolling through your holo, making plans for the next day. It was a big one. X-Wing repair was the big ticket thing, unburying them from the snow that had drifted into the hangar. Everyone else would be working on packing up everything that wasn’t nailed down, and, well, some of the stuff that was nailed down.

The door slid open and Poe walked in, kicking off his boots while BB-8 rolled onto his charging mat. Finn peeked in after them.

“Goodnight, (Y/N)!”

“Night, Finn! See you tomorrow.” You said with a smile.

“Bright and early.” Poe added with a grin.

The door slid shut and he walked right over to the bunk bed, standing in front of you, expectant. Poe was not an overly tall individual, so his head cleared the top, but nothing else.

You raised an eyebrow. “Can I help you with something?”

“You want me up top or are you coming down here?”

“I don’t know if you’ve seen these beds with your eyes, but…they are pretty small, flyboy.”

“We’ve managed worse.” He grinned, resting his arms on the railing, looking up at you with those pretty brown eyes, eyelashes oh so dark and beautiful. “Won’t you get cold up there all by yourself?”

You laughed. “I think I’ll be okay.”

“Well in that case, goodnight. I’ll see you in the morning.” He leaned forward.

You took his face in your hands, kissing him deeply. He crooned at your touch, standing on his toes to chase your lips before finally pulling away and tucking into his mother’s bunk on the bottom.

***

About an hour later, the lack of heat really started to make itself evident. You weren’t sure what Rose had set it to for the night, but whatever it was had your toes freezing and teeth chattering.

Wordlessly, Poe got out of his bed, the fabric rustling in the bunk beneath you, and stood, his head clearing the top so you were nearly face to face. He waited expectantly for you to break the silence, to admit he was right.

“Alright, get in here.” You relented, lifting the covers.

He tossed his blanket up first and then climbed in after you, the tight quarters causing every piece of his body to be touching every part of yours. Talk about cozy. It made the X-Wing cockpit look like a five-star hotel room.

He laughed softly. “You were right. It is gonna be a tight fit.”

“And you were right about it being too cold.” You said, voice rasped with sleep.

“Here, let me…” He wiggled the two of you into a better position, him almost entirely beneath you, broad shoulders still boxed into the narrow bunk. He wrapped a warm arm around your waist, legs intertwined.

You adjusted the third blanket atop the two of you, wings tucked under, and then settled back on top of him, letting out a long, contented sigh at the warmth. “You comfortable?”

“Mmhmm.” He hummed, unable to stop smiling at you, oh so close to him. “Can you imagine if we really weren’t seeing each other and the others found us like this?”

“We’d never hear the end of it.” You laughed at the thought. “You guys, seriously, we were both just cold.”

He chuckled, pressing a kiss to your forehead. “I really thought I could hold out. Not say anything until after the war was over. Find you in the crowd after whatever final battle, confess it all then and there. All romantic and heroic. And we’d kiss and the crowd would cheer and we’d fly in my X-Wing, off into the sunset with BB-8 in the back seat.”

You huffed a laugh. “Had it all planned out, huh?”

“This is better, though.” He admitted, thumb circling your hipbone.

“It’s a good thing I didn’t let you make the first move, like I was planning.” You said, tilting your head up to kiss the corner of his lips. “Saved us both a lot of pining and heartache.”

“To be fair, I was going to make a move during our little joyride that never happened.” Poe said. “I know it was kind of a joke, that it was a date, but it was real to me.”

“It was real to me, too.” You murmured, nose pressed against his cheek. “I could feel it coming. I knew you had feelings for me. But, of course, Kylo Ren has the worst timing in the galaxy.”

“Seriously. Fuck that guy.”

“Agreed.” Your fingers curled against his chest, his heartbeat steady and strong. You leaned up and pressed a soft, sleepy kiss to his lips, eyelids growing heavy, aided by the gentle lulling of his warmth. He was always warm. You had never been more grateful for it than now.

He smiled, skin moving beneath your lips. He rocked you gently, voice sleepy and playful. “You driftin’?”

“Mmm…” You nodded against him. “Getting there.”

“Good. Get some sleep, baby. Maker knows we’ll need it. Someone’s gotta use the Force to dig out those X-Wings tomorrow and it’s not gonna be me.”

Looking Forward, Looking Back

BB-8’s chirping alarm woke the two of you in the absence of sunlight. There were no windows in your room, being carved into a mountain and all. Your face was pressed into the crook of Poe’s neck, warmth encasing you, his dark curls tousled and fluffy.

He groaned softly, skin vibrating against yours. You kissed his cheek, long and gentle, a silent greeting. The groan melted into something else, then, as if he remembered you were perched there on top of him, like a wonky weighted blanket.

“Maker, what a way to wake up.” He murmured, nose brushing against yours on the way to your lips. “Can we do this every morning?”

“You’d have to break the news to Finn that you don’t want to be roommates anymore.” You reasoned, finding his hand and threading your fingers through his.

He hummed, thinking it over. “Well, you could come stay in our room.”

You laughed out loud. “Three is company. Might get a little too cozy in there.”

“Yeah…Well…we can negotiate.”

“Sure, I’ll let you pitch that one to him. And Bee can have my room all to himself.”

BB-8 chirped in approval, which made you laugh.

“How the hell are we going to get out of this bed?” Poe wondered, taking stock of the two of you, packed in like sardines.

“Carefully.” You giggled, trying to sit up. “Your specialty, flyboy.”

Poe used the railing to tug himself upright and you reached into his messy curls, gently combing them with your fingers into some sense of order. He grinned at you, eyes twinkling in the dim room, leaning forward and capturing your lips, like you were his first meal of the day.

Eventually, you pulled apart, peppering kisses across his cheeks. He couldn’t take his eyes off of you. Never could, but especially when you had moments alone like this.

“Poe.” You said, giggling as he reconnected his lips to yours, rhythm smooth and slow, but steady.

“What?”

“We’ve gotta go.” You murmured against him as the kisses continued.

“Mmhmm.” He nipped at your bottom lip, hand framing your cheek, keeping your face close to his. “Give me a minute. I’m busy.”

You laughed, hands resting on his chest as he deepened the kiss. Warmth tumbled from him onto you. Someday, you’d get a real vacation. A getaway. Once the galaxy was at peace again, and the First Order had been destroyed.

But now, you had work to do. A lot of it, before you could head back to base.

“Come on, hotshot. The sooner we get this done, the more time we can spend doing this in a bed that doesn’t completely box in those shoulders of yours.”

“Now that’s a good point.” He grinned, brushing the hair out of your eyes while pulling you in for one last kiss.

You flexed your wings as best you could in the limited space and flipped down over the railing, giving him room to get down.

You swapped out your layers, bundling up all over again. Undershirts, shirt, jacket, coat, plus your headwear, gloves tucked into your pockets. You laced up your boots and followed Poe out to the mess hall, where Chewbacca was serving leftovers from the day before for breakfast.

After, you, Soren, and Rey followed the pilots and mechs out to the hangar, assessing the damage. Wedge had been right. Four X-Wings. Unfortunately, the hangar doors had been left open, letting in thirty years of snow and ice.

First order of business, you did a sweep to make sure there weren’t any scavengers or creatures hiding out inside. Then you reached up, using the Force to pull the massive hangar door shut. The metal creaked and rumbled, dust falling from the mechanism as it lowered into place, enclosing the space in total darkness.

Rey reached for her saber, the blue lighting up the dark. Soren lit his after, and then you, Poe’s face awash in the pink hue, wonder in his eyes. Someone found the lightswitch and the overheads flickered a few times before kicking on. You powered down your saber and approached the nearest X-Wing, not nearly as buried as the ones closer to the opening.

“What’s your professional opinion, Commander?” You asked, arms crossed, looking it over. “Where do you want me to start?”

“Well, the wings would be a good spot, probably. The engines. We’re gonna have to pop her open to see if her parts still work.”

“Alright. Everybody stand back.” You advised, taking a few steps further from it yourself. You focused on the ice, using the Force to crack it into smaller pieces that could be pulled off of it. Then, you lifted the X-Wing into the air, straining to do so from the sheer weight of it alone. Rey joined, taking some of the pressure off, and you two set it atop the layer of snow on the ground, so they could get to it easier.

You all repeated this process for the following three X-Wings, getting them uncovered in record time. The pilots and mechs set to work, trying to see what all was in working order, what needed to be fixed or replaced. Wedge had given them the records he had from the olden days, but it was hard to tell what was still accurate.

In the meantime, you turned your attention to helping the demo crew scrap some of the internal walls and structures that were not lodebearing. Shelves, furniture, cabinets, that kind of thing.

Chewie led the crew, pointing things out, directing the rookies where they needed to be. Threepio translated for him as necessary and you used the Force to take some pieces down.

You fluttered higher, using your wings to help empty some of the higher shelves, taking them down one screw at a time.

Snap and Chewie went out into the snow to move the Transport closer. It would help, no doubt, as you all started to move things.

You and Rey went through the closets of each room to see if there were any stray blasters sitting around, uniforms that weren’t too outdated, even decent walking boots, taking anything that was useful and putting it in a wagon.

It was a productive day. At the end of it, you all had another dinner. It would be your last night there, if everything went to plan. The X-Wings seemed to be in working order. They’d run a brief test, and then take off first, escorting the transports to safety. There’d been one in the hangar as well, that some of the mechs had fixed up without too much trouble.

Weather seemed good for it, too. Any longer than that and you all risked getting stranded in a blizzard. Well, more of a blizzard than what was already raging outside those doors.

The evening was quiet. Everyone was tired from a long day of work. Carrying things, moving cargo, packing, and loading things until it was all ready to go. You sat on the floor in the mess hall, head leaned on Rey’s shoulder, Rose’s legs spread over yours.

You fiddled with the bracelet around your wrist, a small smile tugging at your lips when Poe made eye contact from across the room. His eyes wandered to the bracelet and he grinned, proud. He was sitting with Soren and Finn, talking about something with some of the other pilots.

Jessika came over and sat with you. In the corner of the room, Snap and Karé were talking, awfully close to each other. Touches lingering. Jess traced your gaze and said, “Oh, did you not know? Snap and Karé are married.”

“Huh? I did not know that. Wow.” You processed the information. It was like learning Wedge was Snap’s step-dad all over again. There was more to Snap then you thought, perhaps. Maybe a nice long conversation with him was in order. “They’re good together.”

Poe walked over, taking a seat beside you. He elbowed you lightly, smiling. You could tell he was starting to wind down, looking a little tired. “What are we talking about, ladies?”

“I just learned that Snap and Karé are married.”

“Oh! Yeah, yeah, they’re great together.” Poe grinned.

Jessika chuckled. “Yeah, they are. You ever…dated someone on base?”

“Yeah.” You admitted. “I’m no stranger to wartime romance.”

“She and Luke were…” Rey began to explain, letting Jessika fill in the blanks. “You know.”

“I did not know.” Jessika said, eyes wide. “Wow…that’s really…”

“Yeah, I know.” You shrugged. You felt Poe’s eyes on you, the way his chest began to burn. A twinge of jealousy hidden behind that famed Dameron smirk. “But, uh, I’m not completely closed off to dating this time around. I’m fifty-four, not eighty.”

“You look great for your age, Princess.” Poe complimented, eyes sparkling. He raised an eyebrow, voice dipping into mischief territory. “That mean I’ve got a shot?”

You laughed, heart racing at the look in his eye. “I dunno. Trigger-happy flyboys are not my usual type, but…never say never.”

“Keeping your options open?” Rose asked. “I know about twelve rookies who would die for the chance.”

“Oh I know. Been fighting them off with this saber of mine.” You chuckled. “They’re determined, I’ll give ‘em, that, but…”

“She’s already got a crush on someone.” Poe said, forcing his tone to be casual. “Doesn’t want to hurt their feelings.”

“We’ll go with that, yeah.” You agreed, letting out a yawn that Poe mirrored not long after.

The two of you decided to head to bed, exhausted. You bid the others goodbye and led him down the winding hallways, back to your shared room. The door opened with a whir and you stepped inside, BB-8 rolling into his corner.

Poe turned you to face him, hand tilting your face up towards his and kissing you, slowly. Sensually. Every movement was deliberate and careful. His tongue swiped at the edge of your lip, the other hand tugging your waist impossibly close, chest flush to his.

“Trigger-happy flyboy, eh?” He asked between kisses, teeth nipping at your lip as your arms latched around him, fingers toying with the curls at the base of his neck.

“Yeah. Might even have a crush on him.” You murmured, echoing his words.

“You drive me crazy.” Poe rasped, movements picking up speed, momentum, like an X-Wing headed towards a crash. Inevitable.

You smiled against him, meeting his gaze with starlit eyes. “I know.”

“Go to sleep, Bee. I don’t want you to see this.” He said, a rasp at the edge of his voice, sending a shot of electricity straight through you.

You heard BB-8 power down for the night. Poe wasted no time hooking your knees with his strong hands, tugging your legs up onto his hips and carrying you to the top bunk. You tore your boots off, chucking them across the room with a noisy thud as he climbed up the ladder, throwing his shoes off after. He pulled you on top of him, as you had been the night before, but this time, his hands were everywhere, lips exploring yours. He tugged your knee higher, moaning into your mouth as you played with his hair, giving his thick curls a gentle tug.

He kissed you eagerly, like he’d been waiting for it all day. You knew that was the case. You slotted a leg between his, leaning on his chest. Your other hand stayed anchored to his jaw, thumb brushing through the scruff on his cheek, a little longer than he usually let it get. It suited him, though. All of it did.

You let yourself imagine him a little older. Some gray in his hair, in his beard. Curls a little longer. Maybe he’d need reading glasses. You smiled at the thought, kissing him again, deeper, cherishing the little chuckle he let out when you did.

It sank in then that you wanted to grow old with him, and you were struck by the thought, movements slowing.

Life after the war was already a fantasy to you, but you never let yourself see the life you wanted. Those years of peace after. You’d had two of them, only to have it all ripped away from you, to be frozen at twenty-four for thirty years. But this time, you knew it was different. This time, you would get to stay.

So you let your mind wander. Guided by the Force or your own desires, you weren’t sure. But you saw him there, in casual wear, a few more years on that handsome face. A wedding ring on his finger. Lines that crinkled around those warm eyes. He laughed at something, the sound like music to you. You loved it. Loved him.

Poe could feel it when you slipped. Always could. That lull that hit you when you were zoned in, or zoned out rather. He held you, kisses slowing to a stop, watching, waiting for you to come back to him, for the Force to set you back in his arms.

It was strange, loving a Jedi. But he loved every second. Loved you.

“You’re having some big thoughts tonight.” He finally murmured, voice impossibly soft, like said thoughts were made of glass. You were back now, thumb stroking his cheek again. Breaths back to their regular cadence.

“Yeah.” Your voice broke, tears welling in your eyes.

His eyebrows furrowed. “Oh, hey, it’s okay. What’s goin’ on in that pretty head?”

“Nothing.” You chuckled, shaking your head. “I just…I…”

“You don’t have to tell me.” He handed you a boundary if you so wanted it.

“I just saw…you. After the war. Older and happy. And it just…got to me, I guess.” You admitted, a tear slipping down your cheek.

“A vision?”

“I hope so.” You shrugged, hand resting on his chest, smoothing out the fabric of his undershirt. Back home, he didn’t wear one to sleep, usually. On Hoth, the extra layer was necessary.

He wiped at your tears with his gentle thumbs, pulling you in for a long kiss. “I want that, too. But only if you’re there with me. A little gray in this pretty hair of yours. Not as much as me, of course. I am eight whole years older than you.”

You laughed through tears, surging forward to kiss him again.

“You want kids? We’ve never talked about it.” He asked, playing with your hair with one hand, the other brushing down the length of your wing. You rested your head on his chest, ear pressed to his heart.

“I do. Some little Jedi. One little pilot.”

He kissed your forehead, lips curled into a smile. “They’ll get my curls and your eyes. Big, beautiful wings like their mother.”

“I hope so.” You smiled, staring at him, eyes memorizing his face, just like this. You nuzzled your nose against his, melting against his lips. “I want it, Poe. So bad. I want to…get to live my life this time.”

“You will.” He promised, eyes serious, twinkling like stars. He took your hand and kissed each of your knuckles, lingering just a little longer on the ring finger, where someday, he’d slide his mother’s ring.

***

The next morning, last checks were performed. Threepio went over inventory, and Chewbacca did a final sweep, making sure everything and everyone was accounted for before you all started loading up into the transports and the four repaired X-Wings.

Poe walked over to you, both of you bundled up, though him less than you. You were headed to the same place, would be in ships side by side, but it was still a loaded goodbye building between the two of you, especially after the conversation you’d had the night before.

“You good to go, Commander?”

“All set, your Highness.” He replied, voice cradling the word so carefully. You didn’t mind it so much when he said it. “See you on the other side.”

You took a step closer. “See you at home.”

His face broke out into that flyboy grin, like he’d just won the lottery.

You walked through the base with the others who would be taking the transport out front, the one you’d arrived in. But before you got onto the ramp, you saw them. First Order soldiers on the ground, a shrouded figure leading them.

Your instinct said Kylo, but your heart knew it wasn’t.

TIE fighters flew overhead.

“Poe, we’ve got First Order fighters in the air. Troops on the ground.” Finn said into his earpiece.

You stared ahead as they approached, reaching for your saber, Soren beside you. Neither of you had coated your wings. Hadn’t expected to be outside for longer than a minute. There was no time to do it now.

You launched yourself forward, igniting your saber mid-air as giant snowflakes fell. Stormtrooper fire resounded, beams of red bouncing towards the handful of Resistance members there. You used your saber to take out as many as you could before confronting the man in the hood.

It wasn’t Kylo Ren. He was wearing a mask, but it was different. He raised a hand, trying to disarm your saber and failing.

“After all these years, I was hoping you’d died in that pod, dear princess.” The voice that came out of him said. Muffled, distorted like Kylo’s, but not Kylo.

“You’re gonna wish I did.” You breathed, giving your saber a twirl.

He unveiled his own, a dual bladed red saber, the blade unstable like Kylo’s, but familiar to you. You knew this saber. This saber knew you.

A chill ran up your spine and you launched into attack, deflecting hits from both ends of the staff-like weapon. Soren joined you, his movements careful. Scared. This was his first fight with anyone who intended to harm him.

The X-Wings cruised around the mountain, taking out a handful of TIEs in their sweep through the air. The second transport came around as well, Rey emerging from within, saber at the ready.

The hooded man took note of Soren’s posture, his nervous energy, and targeted him instead, leaving you the task of not only fighting whoever this was, but protecting your nephew. You used the Force to push Soren back, just out of the range of the glowing red saber, a swipe that would have taken his life.

The edge of the blade sliced your upper arm. You tried to flex your wings, to use them as landing gear as you had so many times, but the cold had rendered them nearly useless, hanging down prone, getting number by the second. But the numbness was giving way to prickling pain. You weren’t sure which was worse.

You yelled out, grasping at the smoking wound, the saber’s heat cauterizing the blood.

“(Y/N)!” Rey yelled out.

You stood, bracing yourself on a snowbank, fire in your eyes despite the raging blizzard.

The man went for Soren again, but this time you put yourself between the two, your saber sparking against the aggressive red of his.

“Lord Mothim, we’re taking heavy losses!” One of the Stormtroopers relayed, giving him pause, but not halting his attack.

Lord Mothim. The one Kylo had mentioned on the one occasion you’d met him.

“We will fight until they are dead. No surrender.” He said, countering a move, twirling the saber with grace.

He lunged at your nephew, but you reached forward, using the Force to pull back his cape, throwing him off balance and revealing what you already knew. This Mothim was Maddox. You would recognize your brother’s wings anywhere. Orange with a tinge of red at the ends. Fitting colors for a Sith.

You threw your saber, calling it back to you, straight through the exposed wings, slicing them off and watching as they fluttered to the ground. The cruelest thing you could do to a Mariposan. The thing that the very saber in his hand had done to your own, you realized, finally putting the pieces together. The saber was made of Insidia’s blades, merged together.

He let out a cry, collapsing to his knees, the shockwave of Force energy knocking everyone, including yourself, back in a wave. You soared through the air, unable to control your momentum.

The back of your head hit against a snow-covered pine and everything went blurry.

You watched, nearly out of body, as the First Order retreated, a pair of Stormtroopers grabbing Mothim and leaving. Soren ran over to where you were laying, fear flashing over his features.

“Aunt (Y/N)? Are you okay?”

“Mmhmm.” You gave a thumbs-up, pushing yourself upright. The last First Order transport pulled out of orbit. The X-Wings shot, but it was already gone.

Rey ran over, giving you her arm and pulling you to your feet. “Who was that?”

“My brother.” You exhaled, breaths ragged. “Maddox. Lando was right.”

You stared at the pieces of his wings you’d severed off, being steadily buried by the snow. Your stomach sank with the weight of what you’d done. Exploited his greatest weakness, hurt him in the way that had ended your life all those years ago. Yet, you couldn’t quite bring yourself to feel bad about it.

The X-Wings swooped in for a landing and Poe sprinted across the field, nearly tripping over his own feet on his way to get to you. His gloved hand reached out, stopping short of the blackened, burned slash through your jacket, across your arm.

“You okay? We alright? What’s the move?” He asked, counting heads while reaching out for your hand.

You gave it to him, squeezing his.

“We need to get back before the weather gets worse.” You said, laser-focused on getting off the planet. “Get everyone back in the transports and get the hell out of here.”

Finn nodded, turning to start corralling people back into the transports. You started walking towards one with the others, but Poe didn’t let go of your hand, eyes meeting yours, his energy…fraught.

“I’m going with Poe.” You told Rey, not even stopping to think about the logistics of it, how it would look to the others. You didn’t care. That look on his face…whatever was going on in his head, he needed you.

She nodded, not fighting you on the matter. Poe climbed up into his X-Wing, helping you in behind him. It was a smaller cockpit than the newer models, but the controls looked nearly the same. To you, anyway, from what you could remember about your one other time inside one.

He pulled a lever and the hatch closed, sealing with a hiss and a click.

“Bee, blast the heat.” He instructed, pulling the goggles off of your head, smoothing your hair back, his touch quick and clinical. He stared at the scorched mark on your jacket. “Can you…?”

“Yeah.” You unzipped it, tugging it down your shoulders, exposing the wound. You hissed as the fabric rubbed against it, still red and agitated and hot hot hot.

“Hey, hey, you okay?” He asked, tucking your jacket into a small cargo cabinet near his feet.

“Think so.” You nodded, shedding another layer, and then rolling up the sleeve, exposing the burn. “Yeah, he definitely got me.”

“Here.” Poe pulled a bacta patch out of a small first aid kit, carefully laying it over the wound.

A cooling sensation spread from the spot, the relief instant. You leaned back against him, head resting on his shoulder as you let out a long breath. “Thanks.”

“Mmhmm.” He hummed, flipping a few switches. His arms wrapped around your waist and he pressed his face into your neck, letting out a long, warm breath against your skin. “You had me so worried, baby.”

“I’ve had worse.”

“I know.” He nodded, curls tickling you with the movement. He pressed a long kiss there, then another, arms tightening as he inhaled your scent like it was oxygen. Eventually, he lifted his head, nose rubbing against yours as your face turned towards him.

You kissed him, lips soft, tender. You could tell his mind was elsewhere.

“Your wings…are they okay? You were out there for so long…”

“They’re okay.” You raised one to demonstrate. Its movements were still a little stilted, but they would be okay. You held his face in your hand, firm, forcing him to look at you. “I’m okay, Poe. Promise. I’m not made of glass. We have to get off this planet before we get stuck here, alright? The snow’s gonna get worse.”

“Okay.” He nodded, closing his eyes and inhaling a long breath. “Okay, yeah, alright.” He pressed a quick kiss to your lips and then pulled his helmet on, putting a wall between the two of you. “Yep, just adjusting the co-pilot in here. Wheels up, fellas. Let’s get outta here.”

The X-Wings lifted off, escorting the transports out of the atmosphere and into hyperdrive.

BB-8 took the wheel for the most part. Poe was quiet, an arm around your waist, the other on the control rod. Your back was completely flush against his chest, wings tucked under, still prickling as the feeling came back, little by little.

And it was so…quiet. He was so quiet.

“You alright, Commander?”

“Gettin’ there.” He replied, arm tightening around you. He pressed an awkward kiss to your neck, as best as he could under the helmet.

You laughed softly at the awkward position.

“I’m sorry.” He apologized suddenly, voice sounding heavy.

“Sorry? Why are you sorry?” You asked, turning to look at him, attempting to meet his eyes through the glass of his helmet visor.

He pressed a button on the dash, muting himself so the other pilots couldn’t hear. “I just…sometimes it’s so easy to forget that you’re…I mean…you’ve done this before. You’ve been through so much. But I see you out there in the field, face to face with a kriffing Sith, and it all just melts away. (Y/N)...I know you can handle yourself, but I don’t know what I’d do if something happened to you.”

The words sat there in the open for a few moments that felt like minutes. You let out a breath, turning to look at him for a long moment, his eyes locked out the windshield.

“You’re a Jedi. You’re…you’re a legend, Princess. I know that, but…”

“Everyone treats me like I’m invincible.” You confessed. “Everyone. Even after my accident. It’s…nice to have someone worry about me. I just don’t want to be a liability to you. I need you to be safe too, Poe.”

He nodded, determination brewing behind those warm eyes of his. “We’ll just have to look out for each other, then.”

“Til the end of this war, and every day after.” You promised, turning your head at an odd angle to kiss the stubble on his cheek.

He chuckled a little. “I’m sorry I couldn’t get you up here sooner, baby.”

“Hey, at least we finally got our joyride.” You chuckled. “Our date.”

Poe pressed another kiss to your neck, the plasteel of his helmet brushing against the side of your face, drawing another laugh out of you. “I’ll pick a more romantic spot for the next one.”

The Illusion of Safety

After the Hoth debrief, the cantina was packed. Everyone wanted to hear about it. About the new Sith lord and how you’d sliced his wings clean off, the sheer cold of the planet. The rookies talked about nearly freezing their toes off.

You nursed a cup of Jet Juice, feeling tired, but relieved it was over. Relieved everyone was home safe with new X-Wings, new building materials, blasters, boots and uniforms. In the meantime, there had been some food deliveries as well, and Laesynda told you your garden was beginning to sprout.

Things were looking up, in other words.

The crew was caught in another game of Never Have I Ever, with updated experiences and ideas to throw at each other. Snap met your eyes, Poe seated beside you, his hand on your thigh under the table, impossibly warm, even through the fabric of your trousers.

“Never have I ever kissed a pilot.” Rose said.

You cursed under your breath, along with a handful of other people. Snap and Karé namely. You took a sip of Jet Juice, watching the wicked gleam in Poe’s eyes, the smirk that pulled at his lips.

Snap was next. He knew as well as you did that Luke Skywalker was known for his flying abilities, among many other things, of course. But just to be extra sure, he locked eyes with Poe, raising an eyebrow as he said, “Never have I ever kissed a Jedi.”

You took your sip, for Luke.

Poe’s tongue curled briefly over his lip, meeting your eyes for a moment, asking permission.

You flicked your eyes from his down to his cup and back. “What are you waiting for, Dameron? Take your sip.”

“I mean, it’s more like a hundred sips at this point, but…” Poe grinned into his cup.

Rey’s mouth fell open, everyone watching with bated breath as he chugged the rest of it. The table erupted in cheers.

“I knew it!” Finn exclaimed, pointing. “I knew it!”

Poe shook his head, all smiles. “No you did not!”

“How long?” Snap asked. “I’ve got a couple bets I need to cash in on.”

“The gala.” Poe admitted, the arm that had been resting on your thigh coming up around your waist instead.

“Really? Only since then?” Snap asked. “Maker, I thought it was longer than that, even. Saw you in the hangar one afternoon, kissing her hand.”

“Oh, that was step one of my grand plan.” Poe grinned, flyboy confidence plastered on his handsome face. “We then completely rerouted from said plan, but it worked out.”

You laughed, leaning against his shoulder. “He’s good at improvising.”

Finn deadpanned. “The morning after the gala. When you…?”

“Did the walk of shame? Yeah, sure did.” Poe admitted, earning laughs from the rest of the group. He leaned closer, breath sharp with the smell of alcohol, laced with whatever juice had been laying around the kitchens when the mechs whipped it all together. His nose brushed against your skin, lips aimed for your cheek, but you turned your head, kissing him full on the lips, heart racing at the way his mouth curled into a smile, proud.

The group cheered, offering their congratulations, saying how happy they were for you. You were happy, too. It was serious. Had been since your conversation on Hoth, but long before that, too. Poe was holding your heart in both of his warm, calloused hands. He knew that. And now they all did, too.

Tomorrow, you two would be the talk of the Resistance, the gossip of the day. But tonight, you were surrounded by your friends, laughter and warmth. Your family.

Poe pinched your side, arms curling around your waist. He pressed a long kiss to your cheek and then remembered the game. “Right, my turn. Uhhh, never have I ever been in a pod race.”

***

That night, you dreamt of a void. Empty and dark. Endless. A red saber ignited and then he was standing there. Mothim. Your brother.

He took off the mask, a wrinkled face beneath, eyes golden and gleaming in the shadows. A pair of jagged wings trailed behind him, their edges singed, glowing like embers. “You thought you could hide from me, you insolent girl.”

“Wasn’t hiding, actually. I was sleeping. Sorry if that’s confusing.” You retorted, voice echoing into the distance. “Maybe you’re losing it in your old age, Mads.”

“QUIET!!!” His voice echoed, pounding in your ears. You recoiled. “I’m in your head now, you insolent girl. You cannot escape me. You and that pilot of yours are done for. It’s only a matter of time before I find you and snuff out your precious little Resistance, like I should have so long ago.”

“You can’t. The fire’s been lit. You’re on borrowed time.”

He laughed, the sound spine-chilling.

He was suddenly right in front of you, long, clawed fingers grasping your chin and squeezing. Hard. You tried to run away, but you were frozen. You couldn’t move.

“It’s ironic, really. That you would say that.” He hissed, words sharp as blades. “You gave your life to kill Insidia, to stop her, but your sacrifice was in vain. You’ll see that soon.”

He lit the other end of the saber, its light piercing right through your chest, the pain real and burning.

You jolted awake, eyes shooting open. Your heart raced as you stared at the empty room, curtains blowing slightly in the breeze. You could hear the leaves rustling gently outside. You took some deep breaths.

Poe’s arm was curled tight around your waist, knees tucked up into yours, his nose pressed to the back of your neck. He felt you wake, humming softly and kissing behind your ear. “You alright?”

“Nightmare.” You said, voice shaking. 

You couldn’t get Maddox’s words out of your ears. He had threatened Poe. Maybe he knew somehow. Maybe he really was in your head. He had to be mad after you’d sliced his wings off. Seething. It was the worst pain a Mariposan could experience. Thousands of nerve endings severed all at once, white-hot. You knew that firsthand.

Maybe you should have saved a blow like that for a better moment.

“Mmm.” His voice rumbled against you, the vibrations comforting. His lips pressed against your neck, soft and gentle in the dark. “Mothim?”

“He…He said some stuff. About Insidia…” You confessed, swallowing the lump in your throat. “I…It’s…He threatened you.”

“We can tell Leia in the morning, starlight.” He said, brushing your hair back out of your face. “It’s alright.”

You nodded, but Poe could tell you weren’t convinced. He turned you over, pressing his nose to yours, eyes searching your tearstained face.

“Come here.” He pulled you into his arms, a hand skimming over your wing, the other cradling your head. “We’re fine, baby. We both are, alright? He’s not gonna touch me and if he sets foot near you again, I’ll kill him myself. All I need is a clean shot.”

You smiled softly, heart warming at the fire in his chest, in his eyes. Your Poe was a fighter. You didn’t know how likely that scenario was, but you knew he meant every word. He’d do anything to protect you, fight anyone, no matter the odds.

“You mean that, don’t you?”

“‘Course I do. I’d fight the fucking stars for you.” He pressed his lips to yours, soft and slow. “Let’s go back to sleep, alright? We both need it.”

You nodded, curling into him, leg hooking over his. You tucked your face into his shoulder, inhaling his scent, that warm mix of sandalwood and leather and his rain-scented soap. You felt so safe in his arms, like nothing and no one could touch you. You knew that wasn’t true, but it felt like it was. Like as long as the two of you were together, you’d be fine, that he could stop anyone from the cockpit of that X-Wing, neutralize any threat with only his blaster, before you could even so much as power up your saber.

You held onto that thought as you drifted off again, the illusion of safety. You and Poe, riding in his X-Wing off into the sunset, BB-8 buckled into the back seat.

The Weight of the Galaxy

You found Leia after breakfast, walked straight into her office and sat with her, told her about your nightmare.

“It might have…just been a dream.” You concluded, after giving her the details. What Maddox had said. His threat that Insidia’s plan had succeeded. That your sacrifice meant nothing.

“Did it feel like just a dream?”

“No.” You admitted, arms wrapped around yourself. “It felt…real. Or, like there was some truth to it, at the very least. I’ve dreamt about Insidia loads of times, but…never Maddox.”

Leia nodded and you could feel her, reaching with the Force. She had that look in her eye, like she was a million planets away, but right next to you. The frown that tugged at her lips gave you all the answer you needed. You’d been right. Something big was coming. Something bad.

“We need to…up the Jedi training regimen. A lot. I need all three of you ready.”

“Four.” You said. “But we’ll need a saber for Finn. I think he’s ready for it.”

“I can get one.” Leia nodded. “It’ll take some time.”

“I’ll get them as ready as I can in the meantime.” You promised.

You walked out of her office and out into the camp, feeling sick. Something in you fluttered, and not in a good way. Rey walked up to you, touching your arm, shaking you from the funk. Soren was with her, both of them waiting for the news.

“What did she say?”

“We’re on for training. As much as possible.” You said, letting out a shaking breath. “Leia’s intuition has always been…better than mine. If she thinks there was some truth to…what I saw…”

“Then we’ll just have to get ready for it. Whatever it is.”

Your stomach sank, thinking about it. “More like who.”

***

So you trained. All three of you and Finn. Soren and Rey sparred together nonstop, running agility courses, using a training remote, learning to deflect blasts faster. Faster. Faster yet.

You worked with Finn, handing him your saber, a trusting look in your eye.

“Oh, I couldn’t.” He shook his head.

“It’s just a loan, Finn. We’re still figuring out where to find you one. In the meantime, I need you to get comfortable with the weight of it, the movement. They’re a little different than the training rods you’ve been working with.”

He nodded, testing the weight of it in his hand. You set him on the training course, flitting from tree to tree, watching his progress from a safe distance, trying to stay out of his line of sight as much as possible. You spotted Poe, down at base, eyes tracking you while he stood with Leia and Chewbacca, flicking back down to the conversation every few moments. You ran through the branches, wings carrying you.

The blade of the saber caught on a thin tree and you used the Force to lower it to the ground, gently, out of Finn’s way. He was…hesitant, like Soren had been, but he had the raw talent. He moved like Luke, you reminisced, every move thought through, intentional.

You landed at the end of the course as he powered down the saber. He waited for your evaluation, shoulders stiff. It was moments like this when you were reminded of his upbringing. Didn’t come out often anymore, but when faced with people he saw as authority, it did tend to peek out from those kind eyes. The fear of correction. Of the punishment that followed.

You put a hand on his arm, dispelling the tension that bloomed in his chest. “That was great, Finn. You’re doing great.”

“I missed a few.”

“You’re using a borrowed saber. They’re not always easy to use when they’re not bonded to you. We’ll get you one of your own soon. Besides. I lied. That wasn’t the novice course, it was apprentice level. The work you’ve been doing, even with a stick, it all counts. You’re one of us, Finn.” You told him, hand curling around your saber as he handed it back to you. “I’m not your Jedi Master, I’m your friend. I’m here to offer advice and guidance. What you do with it is up to you. We’re all in this together.”

He smiled at that, nodding. “I like that.”

“I thought you would.”

“How’d it go?” Rey asked, walking over with Soren.

Finn let out a breath, tension rolling out of his shoulders, replaced instead with confidence, with strength from the Force. “We’re getting there.”

***

A week passed. Then two. Nonstop training. Meditating in the morning, breakfast, a trip through the training course, lunch, more meditation and some lightsaber sparring, dinner. After, you’d hit the books, curling up with Luke’s notes, with your own, studying every word like there was something you were missing. There had to be something you were missing.

Poe watched, your spark kindling a fire in his chest, but an ache in his heart. He’d never seen you so stressed. So driven. Like you were carrying the weight of the galaxy with those wings of yours. In some ways, you were.

“Baby…” He murmured, pressing a kiss to your neck, hands following the curve of your waist.

You were hunched over a book, sitting in the lounge. You curled into his touch, his warmth, crooning. “Mmm?”

“It’s late. Come to bed.”

“I’m fine.” You insisted. “I got thirty years of sleep, remember? I think it evens out if I cash in on some of that now.”

He exhaled, shaking his head. “You sound like me.”

“Ironic, isn’t it?” You chuckled, flipping the page.

“Alright, well, you give me no choice.” He said, closing the book with a firm hand, your eyes widening up at him. “Come on. Sleep time.”

“Poe.”

“I will carry you.”

“Is that a threat or a promise?” You asked, a bit of a bite to your words.

“Both. Come on.” He pulled you by your hands, up from the table, and hoisted you right over his shoulder.

“Hey! I feel like there are more graceful ways to be handling a princess, you know.” You protested, kicking your legs.

“Yeah, but none of them give me the chance to do this.” He gave your ass a not-so-gentle pat.

You gasped, thanking the Maker that the hallway was completely empty, otherwise, the whole crew would be talking about you and him for new reasons, since the initial buzz of your relationship coming to light had finally dwindled. “Poe Dameron!”

“Scold me later, Princess, you know you need it.” He said, setting you upright in front of the door to your quarters. He rested his hands on his hips, looking you over.

His tired, overworked little Jedi Princess. Your wings were drooping more than usual. You kept them folded away typically, for practical reasons, but they looked more like fabric than tissue at this point. He frowned.

“Why the long face, flyboy?”

“I just don’t like seeing you like this.” He admitted, reaching out for your hand. He fiddled with your fingers. “You need sleep. You need to be drinking more water. Mariposans need it to perk up their wings. Look at ‘em, starlight, I’ve never seen them so droopy.”

“Yeah, I’ve been…distracted, I guess.” You relented, nodding. “I’ll drink some before bed.”

“Oh I know you will. I’m staying.” He said, pushing past you into the room. He pulled you inside, closing the door with a press of the panel. He plucked your drinking glass from your desk, rinsing it out in your bathroom sink before bringing it back with clean water and pressing it into your hand. “Drink.”

“Yes, Commander.” You replied, tipping it back and taking several long sips. He was right. You’d needed it.

He took your face in his hand, fingers gentle, but firm. He wiped a droplet of water from the corner of your lip with his thumb. “Good girl.”

You’d be lying if you said that didn’t do something to you. And you would have done something to him, if it wasn’t so late, if the initial point of his little wellness check hadn’t been sleep, or, more accurately, your lack thereof.

You brushed your teeth, put some lotion on your wings, aided by his careful touch, and then you both climbed into bed. You rested your head on his chest, listening to his heart beat, steady and strong. He played with your hair, pressing kisses to your forehead.

“Thank you.” You finally said, voice quiet.

His lips curled into a smile against your hairline. “What kind of a boyfriend would I be if I didn’t gently bully you into taking care of yourself?”

You chuckled. “Probably not a very good one.”

“Mmhmm.” He hummed. “Now, do me a favor and close those pretty eyes of yours. I’m thinking at least seven hours. Maybe eight if we’re lucky.”

You leaned up and pressed your lips to his, movements slow, loving. “Won’t Leia…”

“She and I both know we need you at your best. All of us, really, but…especially you.” Poe kissed you, gazing at you through those thick dark, thick eyelashes. He pulled you back down, kissing your temple, a hand grazing your wing, which was starting to flex to its former shape again.

You let out a long breath, his touches lulling you with expert precision. You mumbled into the crook of his neck, eyelids growing heavy at his warmth. “This is not fair.”

“There it is. Sleep, baby. I’ll see you in the morning.” Poe reassured, voice soft.

He listened as your breaths slowed, felt as you slipped off to sleep, the tension leaving your face, your body, your wings.

And then, once he was absolutely sure you were asleep, he pressed a final kiss to your forehead and whispered, “I love you.”

***

Sometimes, when Poe woke up before you, if whatever position the two of you awoke in allowed, he’d slip his mother’s ring onto your finger, just to see. Even with it still on the chain, it did something to him, the way it looked on your hand, that braided leather bracelet on your wrist, the one that meant that you were his.

It looked right. Felt right.

He felt you stir, so he pulled it off, gently, kissing each of your eyelids as you blinked awake. Refreshed and well-rested for the first time in weeks.

Poe wasn’t Force Sensitive, but he could tell there was something big coming. You all could. It made him cherish these little moments between you even more.

Leia got word from a scout named Boolio. There was some info he had on a hard drive, a potential spy in the First Order. Someone would have to rendezvous, download the files in person. Poe put himself forward. Finn, too. Chewbacca.

Poe tried to get at least one of the other Jedi to come along, but the three of you were staying behind to train.

“More training. Figures. I should have known you’d say that.” Poe said, deflated.

Your resolve softened. “Poe.”

“No, it’s fine, I get it, it’s just…”

You took a step closer, taking his hand, the other smoothing out the fabric of his button-up shirt, the one he claimed made him look like a sexy space pirate. He wasn’t wrong about that. “If you need me, I’m there.”

He thought about it, meeting your eyes. He knew you meant it. You always did. He shook his head, relenting, and pressed a long kiss to the back of your hand, stubble tickling against your skin. “They need you here. Finn and I will be alright. I just feel…better with you on board. Call me superstitious, or…”

“Sentimental?” You smiled softly, tucking a stray curl behind his ear. “May the Force be with you, Commander.”

He touched the Mariposan healer’s pendant, still hanging around his neck from its leather cord, right beside his mother’s ring. “It always is.”

You watched the Falcon take off, unrest taking root in your heart. You didn’t know exactly why, but you knew this was the mission that would change everything. That once the boys got back, everything would be different.

You let out a long breath, watching the ship until it shrank away into the sky, zapped away at lightspeed. There was no going back now.

Tags: @cap-lu20

[a-heart-attack-ow]

The Arrangement. Part Fourteen

Part Thirteen

Warnings: Smut, unedited, NSFW

Part Fourteen:

I'd always imagined Hell would be warmer than this, but I was wrong. It's ice cold. 

Frigid and unrelenting. 

Fighting with Colby Brock felt like Hell on Earth. 

Impossible and heart-stopping. 

It had been less than 24 hours since we fought, but it felt like an eternity. Each second is as unbearable as the last. I could feel his rage all over the house, even without him uttering a single word. A rage that was well-earned even if I wished that it wasn't. This was my fault and I knew it. I'd been angry with him for something he couldn't change and instead of being supportive, I pushed him away. I was the reason for this season of Hell and I didn't know how to change it. I started with taking our daughter over to my father's house for the weekend, deciding that she didn't need to be around for whatever was going to come next. I'd never seen Colby so upset with me, but I knew (on some level) that we could get through this. I would just have to be brave and initiate it myself.

I could do that...

...Right? 

I find myself pacing the floor in front of our bedroom. My head is low as I continue to mentally prepare for our conversation in my head. From behind the door, I hear his voice on the phone, but I don't listen to the words he's saying. Instead, I wait for him to finish his phone call and for silence before I dare to knock on the door. The events from the night before had been on my mind all night and all day. It's been haunting me and I couldn't shake the look of hurt that had been on his face when I left him behind. That look had etched itself into my brain and tugged at my heartstrings in the worst way imaginable. My knock on the door is eerily loud in our quiet cottage. The tension from behind the door is thick enough to cut with a knife. I can feel his pale blue gaze from behind the door and I can imagine the look on his face. I don't wait for him to tell me to come in, instead, I reach for the door handle and slowly open the door. The room is dark, with only the dim light of his lamp on his nightstand to accompany the both of us. His eyes look at me sadly, his face serious as I step inside our room and close the door behind me. For a moment neither of us speaks, we watch each other cautiously. He's lying in our bed, his back leaning against the metal headboard. He's not wearing anything but a pair of black sweatpants that hang low on his body. My eyes study every inch of his exposed chest and feel my breathing hitch. I know that he can see the blush that forms on my cheeks, but he doesn't say anything. 

He's so angry and I can feel it.

I reach inside the pocket of my strapless pink floral dress and pull out my peace offering. My breathing is uneven as I pull out a pair of handcuffs, the ones he kept in his office for moments like this. 

The moments where I needed to be punished. 

Cautiously, I watch him as I slowly move forward. His eyes move along my body silently as he licks his lips, mischief in his eyes when the metal of the cuffs catches his eyes. I knew that this wouldn't change the fact that we needed to talk about what happened, but this was my attempt at easing the tension. Extending a sexual olive branch if you will. His hands reach out to take the handcuffs out of my hands, his hands lightly brushing mine in the process. The cool exterior of him was still there, the trances of anger still evident on his face, but he looked slightly more inviting. He places the handcuffs on his nightstand before reaching out to grab me, his hands pulling my body down on top of his. He has me straddling him, his eyes taking me in. The pink floral dress was very short, the bust line low, leaving little to the imagination. 

"Mr. Brock..."

I whimper as his hands find my outer thighs, his thumbs tracing slow deliberate circles lightly along my skin. The sensation causes a chill to move up my spine, my breathing hitching once more as I move my hands along his chest. I trace over his abs and give him a doe-eyed look. A look that causes him to bite his lip. 

"... I've been a bad wife. I think I might need to be punished."

He slowly lifts up the fabric of my dress, bringing the silk further up my thighs. His normally light blue eyes seem to darken a few shades as he debates what he wants to do with me. I drag my hands lower along his body, mentally hoping he's going to make his decision soon. His hands lightly trace up my legs pausing once he realizes I hadn't bothered to put on any underwear. A look of cruel intent washes over him as he moves his hands to rest on either side of my ass. Slowly he uses his hands to hold me in place as he grinds my body against his, which causes me to gasp when I feel how hard he is beneath me. He chuckles at the sound of my gasp, the small sound seeming to echo off of the walls of our bedroom. He savored the sounds he pulled from me, like a meal he didn't want to end. He forces me to grind against him once more, his eyes focused on me with an intensity that feels overwhelming. This time when I gasp, I note the way his smirk grows. I can feel how wet he's making me, but I try to remember this isn't about what I want. This is about what he wants. This was my olive branch and he could do with it what he wanted. 

His chest rises and falls in quick succession. He grips my hips harshly as he growls his first command. 

“Keep rolling your hips for me baby doll. I like watching you squirm as my cock grazes your pussy.” 

For a moment I’m hesitant to do as I’ve been told, knowing full well that rolling my hips along his hardened cock would be more torture for me. But I do as I’ve been told. This was a part of my punishment and I had to face it head-on. I slowly roll my hips over his prominent bulge. His head resting on the headboard as he watches me through a heated gaze. The sensation of him grazing against my needy sex only makes me want him inside of me more. Each movement further drenching me. I try to focus on not cuming as he bucks his hips to meet the roll of mine. He watches me in quiet fascination as I bite down on the bottom of my lip. A feeble attempt to not be a moaning mess. 

“Let me hear how pretty you sound Emilia.”

His smirk taunts me as he bucks his hips up once more, harshly brushing my aching core once more. Part of me feels like I am going to shatter as if I’m glass teetering over the edge of breaking.

“Fuck, Colbs.” 

I whimper breathlessly. Hearing his name on my lips caused him to snap. Without warning his hands slide up from where they’d been on my hips. He reaches for the bust line of my dress. He slowly rips the fabric into pieces. I don’t know why he feels the need to tear my clothes off, but it always did something to me that I couldn’t expalin. HIs eyes fall onto my exposed chest as he leans forward so he can capture my left breast into his mouth. He sucks harshly. The sensation making me dizzy. His lips are relentless and uncaring. Marking me up as his tongue makes each swipe along my skin count. 

My head spins further as his hands lightly trace my stomach, memorizing every inch as he does this. Almost like he’ll never get to touch me like this again. 

“What happened the other night won’t happen again Emilia. From now on we don’t go to bed angry with each other.  We talk through things, we communicate, and we remember we are on the same team.” I nod through my heated daze. My heart beat quickening when I feel his hands move from my torso, snaking up to my hair. He pulls my hair lightly, enough to force me to look at him. He stops his assault on my breast so he can study me. His lips are swollen from his thorough marking of my body. 

“Tell me you understand Emilia. I need words baby doll.”

It takes me a second to truly focus on what he’s said and to remember how to speak a coherent sentence. 

“I understand Colby.”

The words fall from my lips in an uneven whimper. Our eyes remained locked for a few moments, his gaze intense as he makes sure to  drive the point home. I knew that what had happened the other night couldn’t happen again. We had a daughter now and it was crucial for us to set a good example for her. I couldn’t be shutting down and running away. I make a silent promise to never do that again as Colby uses my silence to his advantage. 

He flips our bodies so I’m underneath him in seconds. My head is spinning as he does this, so much so that I don’t realize that he’s lifted my hands over my head and cuffed me to our headboard within seconds. Momentarily I feel like the breath has been knocked out of me. A sensation that doesn’t stop as he guides his lips to mine. I groan against his lips, the kiss aggressive and assertive. My body arching into his with a desperate need. I feel my arms strain against the cool metal of the cuffs. I can feel myself wishing that I could touch him. But all I could do is lay there, completely at his mercy. He deepens the kiss, chuckling darkly as he feels me strain against the cuffs once more. 

“Bad wives don’t get to touch their husbands when they’ve misbehaved.” 

He groans the words against my lips. I can feel myself getting completely caught up in his kiss but I’m quickly interrupted by the sensation of his hands traveling down my body. Slowly cascading down every curve of my body with wicked intention. In the wake of his touch, I can feel goosebumps rise along my skin. His lips unrelenting as I feel him drift lower and lower along my body. His fingertips finally moving against my clit, lightly resting against it. He doesn’t move, just keeps his fingers against my bundle of nerves, contemplating what he’s going to do to me. I break the kiss and let out a breathy moan, my gaze catching his as I do. His smirk never leaves his face as he watches how much of a mess I am beneath him. My torn clothes and exposed body pathetically needy for more of him. 

“You never should’ve initiated this Emilia…”

He pauses as he lightly applies pressure to my clit, a careful swipe along the swollen bud. He uses his thumb to trace a light circle along my clit. His eyes never leave me as he watches my face contort with want, my breathing shallow, and my arms pulling against the cuffs. A dark chuckle brushes against his lips when I give him a pleading look. He grazes my clit again, before slowly pumping two fingers inside of me. He’s so slow that every slight movement inside of me sends a chill up my spine. 

“... I am going to punish you thoroughly. You have no idea what I am going to do to you.”

I give him a wide-eyed look of innocence as he finally pushes his fingers as deeply into me as he can. He contiues to watch me unaplogetically. Clearly unfazed by the look on my face. He slowly moves his fingers in and out of me, focused on the way my body reacts. Noting how my body is shaking beneath him, the way my chest rises and falls in desperation. 

Mentally I wish I hadn’t started this. He felt so fucking good, but I also knew that he would drag this out for as long as possible. He continues pumping his digits in and out, feeling my walls tightening around him. He’s going fast enough for it to feel incredible, but not fast enough to give me the release I desperately needed. 

“I am so sorry Colby. I swear that it won’t happen again.”

My voice sounds as pathetic as I feel. A sound that causes him to laugh bitterly as he slowly curls his fingers inside of me. A slight action that makes my sensitive core flutter momentarily. 

“Oh baby doll, I know that you’re sorry. You wouldn’t have started this if you hadn’t been…” 

His voice stops for a moment, his smirk growing when he pumps and curls his fingers at a slightly faster rate. He gives me a fake look of sympathy as I mewl in distress. A sound that appears to be music to his ears. 

“... Damn do you sound pretty as I pump this sweet little pussy.” 

He watches the way the muscles in my stomach clench, my walls tightening around his fingers. My body giving all of the signs that I am in need of a release. Another dark chuckle brushes past his lips as he starts to move his fingers at a quicker pace. I force myeslf to not completely lose my mind when he does this. To not fuck his fingers, but my hips have a mind of their own. They’re eager for any friction they can get, but just as my body starts to feel like there’s a chance he might let me cum, he stills his actions. 

He pulls his fingers out of me, leaving me empty and hopeless. 

“Colby…”

I gasp. 

“... Please. Baby, please I am so sorry. Please I’ll do whatever you want. Just please don’t tease me like this.” I sound so stupid when I say this, my words begging. I’d brought this onto myself. I walked in here and extended the metaphorical olive branch. I knew there was nothing I could do to change his mind. His brow furrows and he tuts quietly as he watches me. One hand brushed some of my hair out of my face. 

“In all of the years we’ve been married, you’ve never called me baby. Are you trying to butter me up? Think that calling me something sweet could change my mind?”

My body aches with want. Had I been trying to be manipulative? No, but I could see how he could’ve taken it that way.

“What if I called you Colby-Kins? Would that make you feel sorry for your needy wife?”

I ask, playing along. My joke of a nickname causes Colby, to break out of his dominating act. A genuine smile pulling at his lips for a brief second.

“You’re fucking cute baby doll…” He pauses the smile on his face returning to the smirk he’d been wearing all night.

“... But I’m too committed to teaching you a lesson to stop now.”

He pushes his body up off of mine. He stands up and gets up off of the bed, watching me closely as he slides his sweats off. He seems amused by the fact that my eyes are focused on his exposed cock, hard and dripping with pre-cum. He notices how hugnry my eyes are and how my legs squeeze together when he returns to our bed, his naked body descending onto mine. His lips move back to mine, deepening the kiss instantly. A groan passes his lips as his chest lays flush against mine. The feeling of his skin on mine was otherworldly. He brushes his hardened member along the slick of my entrance but doesn’t push inside of me. Instead, he rubs the tip of his dick along my clit. I whimper beneath him, my hips eagerly lifting in an attempt at some sort of friction. He guides his hands to spread my legs further. 

“I need you Colby. I need you inside of  me. Please baby, you’ve made your point.” 

I mumble the words against his lips, an action that forces him to pull back to look at me. His blue eyes search my face. For the first time, since I walked into the room, he’s looking at me without any anger. As if he’s started to forgive me for my actions the night before. He studies me closely for a few quiet seconds before breathing a deep sigh. 

“Well, since you asked so nicely.” He whispers, his cock sliding past my soaked folds without warning. My head falls back into the pillow, my body feeling euphoric now that he’s fully inside of me. He doesn’t move for a second, just remains still as he gives my body a moment to enjoy the sensation of him inside of me. He moves his lips to my collarbone as he starts to move, slowly like he’s making love to me. 

No longer punishing me.

He didn’t make love to me often. We mainly fucked until we were a heaping mess, but this was different. His lips on my collarbone are light kisses, not possessive markings. His hands roam my body with careful consideration. He holds me closely as he thrusts with each caring roll of his lips. I wrap my legs around his torso and gasp as his hands lightly grasp my hips once more, lifting them up so he can thrust inside of me deeper. He’s so deep inside of me that I can feel him in my stomach, his movements careful. A moan pushes past my lips and I feel his cock starting to twitch with anticipation. He’s getting closer to coming undone and I can feel myself also reaching a release.

“Do you want me to fill your sweet little pussy up with my cum?”

He rasps, his lips moving from my collarbone. He peers down at me waiting for an answer, allowing me a moment to catch my breath. 

“Yes. Fuck, please fill me up with your cum.”

I whimper, my walls starting to tighten with a new level of need. I needed to release and I needed to do it as soon as possible. He nods, his lips moving against mine. Slowly he kisses me as if it was the last time that he would. 

“Cum with me baby doll.”

He commands, words mumbled against my lips. I move my hips to meet his thrusts, each one messier and messier as we both start to come undone. I feel my body shake as I cum, my body finally getting a release after over an hour of torture. The bliss I feel as he cums inside of me brings me back to that same dizzying sensation I’d had earlier. I’m unable to focus on anything else, as I feel him shoot his cum deep inside of me, his lips no longer on mine. Instead, he watches me as I let my body enjoy everything he’s given me. 

Once we’ve both finished, he pulls out of me. He reaches for the nightstand on his side of the bed and pulls out the keys that goes to the cuffs. He undoes the cuffs and lightly takes my hands in his. Around my wrists are indents from how hard I’d been straining against the cuffs, red rings that prove how desperately I wanted to touch him. 

“Do they hurt?”

He asks me, lightly tracing over the marks before bring each hand up to his lips. Giving the marks a kiss, before looking back at me. His handsome face seems troubled by the state of me. Any other time we’d used a restraint I hadn’t been left with marks, but this time was different. He looks ashamed with himself as I give a faint yes nod. I hadn’t realized that they hurt until now. After I was done being overstimulated by him and his torture. A torture that I enjoyed every second of. Slowly, I sit up in the bed and move my hands from his. I guided them to either side of his handsome face, our eyes fixated on one another. 

“Hey, I loved every second of that. Next time I won’t pull on them so hard. I just wanted to touch you so badly.”

He nods, placing his hands over the top of mine. We don’t speak for several seconds, just remain entangled and in each other’s arms. I feel his fingers toying with my wedding rings as he pulls my hands from his face. He continues to hold onto me, but this time he breathes a deep sigh. 

“I have an investigation going for the sex tape I created with Shea. We are going to get every copy she has and wipe it from existence. I’m sorry I did it and I’m sorry she harrassed you at our event. She won’t be getting into another one.”

I give him a look of sympathy when he says this. I knew the biggest reason I’d been so upset the night before was based on the fact that the sex tape had been created and could ruin everything we’ve built. Yes, our marriage had been arranged, but we’d done something with that. We had a family and a business. A jealous ex didn’t need to derail that. I had also been incredibly jealous when I found out about the tape. Knowing that he filmed it the night before we were married, that he’d promised to love her despite our marriage, it made something inside of me snap. He didn’t owe me loyalty then, hell we hadn’t met before our wedding. It made sense that he had someone he was with before us, but a dark part of me was so jealous that it had been her. Someone who was still seemingly calling the shots. 

Even after all of these years.

I couldn’t fault her entirely, if Colby left me the way he left her I’d be pissed. But I needed to not punish him for something that happened before we were us. 

“I was jealous. That’s why I got so upset last night. I know that I was going on about how you’d hurt her, but the more I think about it the more I realize I was only pissed because I was jealous. I mean before me you had an entire life. With these glamorous women who have money and you got stuck with me. Some poor girl who sold herself to save her dad. I was jealous because you loved her. And how could you not?  She's beautiful. And I’m just me, I’m nothing.”

My confession hangs in the air for a moment. Silence falling between the both of us. I pull my gaze from his when I see the sympathy that finds his face as he studies me closely. His hands move from mine, and feel his right hand move under my chin. He lightly grips me as he forces me to look up at him, his eyes soft. 

“You’re the most incredible woman I’ve ever known. You’re so strong and beautiful. You’re graceful and calm. Smart and refined. The best mother to our daughter and you’re fucking sexy as hell. And I’ve been yours from the moment I laid eyes on you. There hasn’t been anyone else since I became yours. Shea was only at that party the day after we got married because the party had been planned weeks before I even knew I was getting married. But I’m yours Emilia Brock, only yours. You’re not nothing, you’re everything to me.”

I press my lips together to keep them from trembling, tears brimming in my eyes. No one had ever said anything this nice to me. No one other than Colby. I should’ve known better than to be jealous of someone else. He’d never given me a reason to doubt his devotion to me. Even before he told me he loved me, he’d always been quick to say that I was his to care for.

“I love you Colby.” 

I whisper, my lips moving against his. He groans as he pulls me forward, my naked body being pulled onto his naked lap. I deepen the kiss and my hands are in his hair. His hands hold me firmly in place. 

“I love you too baby doll.”

He rasps. I smile and lean my head against his, feeling his cock getting hard beneath me. I can’t help but giggle as I look at him.

“How about it Colby-Kins? You up for round two?”

He clenches his jaw as I grind against him. My sex already ready for him to make love to me once again. His eyes seem to go a few shades darker as he nods silently. Aligning himself with me for the second time tonight. 

“I’m up for as many rounds as you can handle.”

[zeninsama-moved]

wanted to write a lil something about big brother naoya... this is my first time writing anything kinda long in a WHILE so i'm proud of myself :') i needed the practice so be nice to me. who knew all it took was incest and piss LMAO also can u believe i used caps for this one <3

tw for incest and piss, themes of humiliation and degradation (mostly the situation, "slut" used once), female reader (she/her prns and petnames like "baby girl" used), naoya is his own warning and he's kind of a dick, maybe a little clan-relevant misogyny if you squint, fingering, naoya gets a boney but this isn't about him, not really proofread u get what u get, naoya has a shitty accent and it's inconsistent

word count: 2.5k

Half an hour into your big brother's tirade, you realize you really need to pee.

All your objections fall upon deaf ears, your big brother telling you to shut up, stay quiet, or fuckin' listen each time you interrupt his ranting to try to ask. It's pointless. So instead, you bow your head in submission, whimpering from the painful straining of your bladder.

Fuck, you need to go. You're not sure how much longer you can hold it, but it's not for you to decide. You know your brother – when he's this angry, he could keep berating you for at least another hour.

You interrupt him once more.

"Please, nii-sama, I've learned my lesson, okay? I'm sorry!"

Above you, Naoya scoffs, arms folding over his broad chest. “I don’t believe that for a fuckin’ second. First you humiliate me in front of the elders, now yer talkin' to me like I'm some kind of idiot? Is that what this is? You think yer better than me?"

It's been a while since you've seen Naoya this upset. Even with his short temper, your sister antics usually only leave him mildly annoyed. Your brother doesn't take it lightly when he feels embarrassed – even worse, undermined – and by his little sister of all people. His little baby of a sister that's meant to walk three steps behind him, bow her head, speak when spoken to. Yes, Naoya-sama. No, Naoya-sama.

"No, nii-sama," you're weeping shamelessly at his feet, your face hot and hands fisting at the skirt of your kimono, all while your bladder strains painfully. "Please, I'm sorry! It hurts, nii-sama, please let me go."

It's probably a matter of seconds now, maybe a minute at best. You're begging, silently praying to whatever Gods are listening that Naoya will take mercy on you and let you up, let you rush to the bathroom in a technique-imbued sprint so you can finally get a release from this pain. You'll even settle for pity at this point, because if you let go now, release your bladder right in front of your brother – all over the tatami, all over your kimono – you'll never hear the end of it.

Imagining the walk of shame to the nearest servant, forced to explain the mess you’ve made in the other room with a heated face and head bowed in shame – all while your big brother laughs – sends a chill through your body.

You don't notice your head fell until Naoya cradles your face, lifting it up to meet his gaze again. He's crouched to your height now, both face and touch uncharacteristically gentle when compared to... well, everything else about him. His palm is warm, yet rough from nearly three decades of back-breaking training and battle.

For a moment, you think you're lucky. Maybe Naoya is finally taking pity on you after seeing you tremble, your bottom lip quivering and eyes wet with tears as you plead for his mercy. After seeing you look weak in comparison to him.

"Hey," he coos, caressing your cheek with his thumb, wiping a tear and relishing in the way you keen into his touch. His baby sister. His sweet girl that's depended on him every day since birth, relying on her onii-sama to guide her. "You know I'm not doin' this to be mean, right? Yer just... gettin' too mouthy for yer own good."

"Naoya-nii," you whimper, voice breaking. "I can't hold it anymore, please."

"Yeah, you can," he sighs. "Dumb baby, just shut up a second and listen to me."

Another gentle hand rests on your shoulder. When Naoya holds you like this, it almost feels loving. He presses a kiss to your hairline, dampened with sweat from your body's exertion. You take a deep breath, trying to will the ache in your bladder to go away. For a moment, it does.

"If ya mouthed off to anyone else, they'd throw yer ass in the disciplinary pit, but not me. Is that why you do it? You know you can be a brat to me 'cause I won't beat yer ass about it? Tell me."

You nod shakily. "Yes, Naoya-nii."

"Look at me."

You do. Naoya's features look softer, kinder, more like the brother you love. The one that would gently push on your back to make you bow when you were young. The one that held your hand and snuck you out of the estate during the summer to show you the fireflies. The one that, despite threatening to leave yer ass out to dry when he catches you meddling in places you shouldn't, always takes the fall for it so you don't get punished.

But he can only do so much for you. For now, at least. When the old man inevitably bites it, making him the clan head, he'll be untouchable. Therefore you will be too.

The urge returns. How did you forget?

Naoya watches your eyes widen, your lips part in a stammer.

"Shh," he soothes, silencing whatever you're about to say with his finger over your lips, then replacing the digit with his own.

The kiss is soft, you try and distract yourself with the feeling of his lips, more assertive than yours, and his tongue softly prying you open. The hand on your shoulder ventures lower, smoothing over linen, fingers digging under your obi to loosen it in a practiced motion. Eventually, he accesses the ties to your kimono, loosening that as well until the fabric parts, exposing your body to him, ignoring your whimpers and pleas of protest.

It's not that you don't want him to touch you, because fuck, you really want him to touch you, you're aching for it. It's the throbbing pain inside that looms over your head in a constant reminder. You can't do this right now. If his fingers touch you, god forbid enter you, you're not sure you'll be able to hold it. The slightest amount of pressure and –

"Look at you," Naoya sighs, allowing himself to be swept up in lust. He kisses your cheek, your jaw, hair tickling your face as his lips trail down your neck and nip at the sensitive skin. "So fuckin' beautiful. My beautiful girl, aren't ya?"

Still, you're keening into his touch. The linen of your kimono hangs limp over your body, Naoya reaches underneath it and palms your breast, groaning silently against your skin. The hand cradling your face repositions, caressing your jaw before pushing two thick fingers past your lips, leaving you no choice but to accept them. You do it dutifully, allowing your brother to glide his fingers over your tongue, even hollowing your cheeks weakly around them.

Naoya takes and takes. It's no different when it comes to your body. The blood rushes to his cock, tenting the fabric of his hakama as it swells. His hands only get greedier, moans sounding more desperate as he gropes at your body, feeling your nipples harden under his palm, your skin so unbearably soft. He wants to sink his teeth in you, mark you in places only he has the privilege to see. He finds the warmth of your mouth so tempting, so inviting, he can't help but push his fingers deeper. You choke around his fingers, coating them in a rush of saliva.

"Open your legs," Naoya orders, hand now resting atop your thigh, both of them still clenched tightly together, attempting to push them apart. Your eyes widen in panic.

"Naoya-nii, I can't," you mutter, shaking your head frantically. "At least let me go first. I'll be fast, I promise–"

"Nah," Naoya teases, lips curling in a sharp grin. "Trained you to be a real good girl, didn't I? You can hold it a few more minutes."

"I can't!"

"You will."

Your body acts on its own, betraying your will and allowing your brother to manhandle you into a position he finds more acceptable. Your legs open so easily for him, giving him access to your now unclothed pussy. Spit-slick fingers rub over your folds, gathering the wetness there. You let out a shaky breath.

"After all, it would be real fuckin' embarrassing if you did," Naoya drawls, his voice always takes on this soft, condescending tone when he teases you. "If you pissed yourself, I mean."

Naoya kisses you again, this time skipping the pleasantries and parting your lips with his tongue, greedily licking against your own to taste the inside of his sister's mouth. You're overextending yourself, trying to focus on too many things at once to forget how dangerously close you are to pissing yourself, because if you were to let go right now, it would get all over your big brother's hand – and then you really wouldn't catch a break. So you try to focus on the softness of his tongue, on the pleasure of his fingers finding friction over your swollen clit.

"I don't wanna," you whimper, voice sounding like that of a petulant child. "Naoya-nii..."

"No?" He mocks, nearly grinning from ear to ear. "Don't wanna piss yourself like a dumb baby? Then don't."

One hand grips your hip to steady you, the fingers on his other finally breaching the tight entrance of your cunt. Your jaw drops, mouth hanging open in a moan. His fingers are thick. He always gives you two right off the bat, claiming he's being generous and prepping you for his dick instead of making you take it. It's funny, how he loves you like that.

His sweet baby sister, opening for him like a flower.

Pleasure sparks through your body as the heel of his palm grinds into your clit, providing the right amount of pressure in tandem with his prodding fingers. Your mouth hangs open, unmoving and pliant while his tongue licks into it, kissing the corner of your lips. The fullness of your bladder makes everything feel so much more sensitive, more responsive as your brother works his fingers and and out of your cunt, aided by your saliva and drooling arousal.

Knowingly, his fingers reposition and curve, finding that spot within you and targeting it with the pads of his fingers. It triggers what you've been fighting so hard to hold. For the first time since he started berating you, you move, hands clinging to his clothed forearm, clawing at it in desperation. Your body and mind are on two different pages, the little voice in your head still grounded in reality screaming for you to push him off. Maybe you could swing it with a desperate surge of cursed energy, but your hands urge his fingers deeper, keeping them pressed against that spot.

Naoya seems to like this, cock throbbing at the sight of you trying to get yourself off on his fingers. He can feel your pussy squeezing, sucking them deeper.

"Hey, you forget your fuckin' manners?" He reprimands, though the amused look on his face doesn't match his tone. He's getting off on this, the sick bastard. You know he is. "Gonna ask me first or were you just gonna keep humping my hand like some desperate slut?"

"Please, Naoya-nii," you blurt out, the tightly-wound coil inside you clenching tighter by the second.

"The fuck was that?"

"Nii-sama," you correct, pleading. It's so fucking close. "Nii-sama, please, can I cum?"

Naoya hums, pretending to think it over. His fingers plunge in and out of your cunt at a rapid pace, filling the small room with the obscene squelching of your arousal. Your hips move on their own, desperate to meet his pace, riding his thick fingers to chase the high. Maybe you have the restraint to hold it, let yourself cum on his fingers and still have enough time to rush to the bathroom before it takes a turn for the worse.

"Gonna pull that shit again?" He asks, pace not relenting. "Hm? Gonna lash out at me again like a spoiled brat when everyone can see you? Make me look like a fuckin' idiot?"

"No!"

"Yeah, better fuckin' not. Undermine me again and I'll kill ya. Now cum for me."

You don't need any further prompting. Your body goes lax, walls clamping snug around Naoya's fingers before releasing, soaking them in a hot rush of cum. He fucks you through it, not once stopping or slowing, narrow brown eyes watching your pussy coat his knuckles in a layer of milky white. "There's my good girl," he praises, soft but sweet, only ever meant for you to hear. "There's my good baby girl, that's it, let me have it."

It hits you for the last time before your orgasm even finishes, the relaxing of your muscles. You physically can't hold it back anymore, even if you could, it's far too late.

There's another surge of warmth, the wet sloshing of another liquid streaming from your spread legs and making a mess on your brother's hand, soaking the sleeve of his haori, soaking the tatami, trickling down your inner thighs in clear rivulets. Naoya's jaw drops, eyes widening at the sight. Even then, he can't fucking stop.

"What did I say, huh? Didn't I tell you to hold it?" His fingers press harder at your inner walls, ramping up the pace, desperate to fuck every last drop from you as his cock throbs under his hakama. "You're that incapable, can't even hold your own piss?"

You're fucking horrified.

"I'm sorry, nii-sama!" you sob. "I didn't mean to, I promise!"

"Yeah, yeah," he sneers. "Go on then, let it out."

With no other option, you resign yourself. Your body slumps forward onto Naoya's broader frame, shuddering, the urine releasing in pulsating gushes along with your orgasm, further soaking everything else. Hand, haori, tatami, even the linen of your kimono pooled underneath you. Your body is overwhelmed. Your face burns hotter, eyes drooping in exhaustion and relief. Blood rushes in your ears, heart pounding loud enough, you're certain Naoya can hear it.

The room spins.

Naoya's opposite hand rubs your back in a rare act of affection. It feels different from pity. He kisses the top of your head, then your shoulder, allowing you to come down slowly.

As the rushing of blood quiets, you're too ashamed to pull your face from the crook of his neck.

"Kid, look at me."

"Don' wanna."

"Come on."

Sniffling, you force yourself upright, still kneeling on your jello legs.

Still kneeling on the cold, soaked garments. Gross.

Naoya cradles your feverish cheek. You look cute like this, lips pouted, face absolutely debauched. His heart swells in his chest.

"I'm sorry, nii-sama."

"You kidding me?" He laughs under his breath. "You know how hot that fuckin' was? Almost came in my pants 'cause of you. Wanna see you do that shit again for me."

Embarrassed, you scoff and look away, but your brother redirects you, kissing you once more – chaste, but gentle. Reassuring.

After that, he leans back and starts undressing from the waist up, shrugging off his haori, working on his kimono, all until the soiled garments sit in a heap.

"Now go get someone to clean this shit up."

"Me?" You ask, incredulous, looking down at your disheveled form – still soaked, might you add. "Can't you go find someone to do it?"

"I wasn't the one that pissed myself, little sis. Now get out of here."

[aethon-recs]

30 Tomarrymort Recs for February 2023

I keep telling myself that I won't do month-by-month recs and that they're too much of a commitment, but then a month like February hits where there were so many knock-out Tomarrymort fics published that I couldn’t resist celebrating all the incredible works posted in the last month, including for two Tomarrymort-themed fests. Apologies that this is coming a bit late in the month — it took me quite some time to write up thoughts on each due to the huge influx of unforgettable fic in February!

Criteria for this list: one-shot, complete, published in February 2023, in alphabetical order by title. It’s quite an extensive list, but every single one of these is worth reading.

*

Tomarrymort Recs (February 2023)

A Lesson Learned Well by @ellionne (M, 2k)

A very creepy take on a captive Harry and how he slowly starts to lose his mind until Voldemort can get him to do anything. ‘Anything’ includes some pretty gruesome cannibalism and other horrors!

Amensalism by @cindle-writes (E, 6k)

Tentacle sex! Inspired by the Venom movie! Harry/Scarcrux based off Eddie/Venom! Need I say more?

Anchor the Moon by Xenjn (M, 8k)

A very cool spin on genderswapped Tom and Harry who attend Hogwarts together! No matter the setting or era, Harry is obsessed with stalking Tom and proving she’s up to no good.

Anniversary by @vdoshu (E, 4k)

The last place that Harry would want to have sex is back in his cupboard at 4 Privet Drive. Yet Voldemort still takes him there for their anniversary. The mind games in here are absolutely top-tier!

Because it is his by TheOnceandFutureQueenofTarts (E, 2k)

An experiment in polyjuice leads Harry to discover that Tom is extremely attracted to… Tom. A truly hilarious take on Tom Riddle’s unhinged and unparalleled levels of narcissism!

Cynosure by @wolfantlersinspace (E, 3k)

When Voldemort steps out of the cauldron, he is the hottest man in existence. We've all seen that scene in the 4th movie! Harry can’t help but feel the same way, despite how much he tries to resist it...

Eulogy by @meles-merrivale (E, 6k)

A brooding, pensive glimpse into a day in the life of Harry who’s been raised by Voldemort. How Harry yearns for him, yet never quite gets the emotional fulfillment he so craves is heartbreaking! I gasped at the ending!

Frigid by @mrviran (E, 3k)

I don’t know if the world is ready yet for Puritanical Voldemort, but if you think you might be, this fic does it BEST. The way Voldemort fixes Harry is so… chilling (pun intended — it'll all be clear once you read the fic!)

Honeyguide by @cannibalinc (E, 7k)

Tom, an unmatched Omega, is determined to have Harry as his Alpha, no matter the costs. The rut scene is so intense, with Harry completely losing control in a very sexy (and dangerous!) way.

Identity by @crowcrowcrowthing (E, 5k)

Harry and Tom go on a road trip together to celebrate their anniversary. The reveals in this fic were SO GOOD, I didn’t see any of them coming — crowthing skillfully delivers intricately layered tangled plots-within-plots in just 5k words.

In the library by @chiocchi (G, Art)

Harry and Tom studying in the library — with an adorable depiction of Tom letting his guard down around Harry. Both the scene and the coloring are so very soft!

Insatiate by @vdoshu (E, 2k)

A very bleak and dark take on an AU where Voldemort wins and Harry lives a very empty life, only to be filled by Voldemort’s cocks and some magical immortality juice.

it's kind of tripping me up babe, i've got it bad for you by @limonium-anemos (E, 3k)

Harry and Voldemort get isekai'ed into a cursed romance-novel AU. I love how all the long-standing love and trust between Harry and Voldemort shines through in this fic, as they make the best of their time in this very wacky erotica setting by fucking each other's brains out.

Keepsake by IceLynx (M, 5k)

Harry suffering from amnesia wakes up with Voldemort telling him that they're in a relationship. But when the pieces don’t quite add up, Harry discovers the horrifying truth. A very creative twist at the end!

アンバランスなKissをして by vash (E, 2k)

A show-stopping alternate ending to the Final Battle, with Harry asking for a final kiss from Voldemort. 

Matriphagy by @being-luminous (M, 2k)

This fic takes the whole “Voldemort hunting Harry because of a prophecy” origin story, and adds a vampire twist to it. The floaty and detached vibe is a really nice contrast to the visceral horrors of what’s happening on-page — very skillfully done!

Phalanx by @vdoshu (E, 4k)

There’s a reason why Voldemort doesn’t wear shoes, which Harry, to his horror (and our delight), finds out firsthand. The foot worship in here is magnificently over-the-top in very satisfying detail.

Quiet as the Moon by @itsevanffs (M, 2k)

A Beauty and the Beast AU that’s a sequel to @duplicitywrites’ Certain as the Sun. I thought what was a really nice touch is how we see the state of their (unhappy) relationship through flashbacks interspersing the main action — in just a few sentences, itsevanffs manages to paint a picture of a very wretched existence for Harry, before he takes matters into his own hands. 

Research and Development by @cannibalinc (E, 6k)

Voldemort captures Harry and proceeds to experiment on him. And by ‘experiment’, I mean, carve Harry up and fuck him with his hemipenes in delightfully gratuitous, violent and unrestrained, and gushingly hot fashion.

Right in Front of My Salad? by IceLynx (T, 2k)

Draco Malfoy dies right in the middle of Harry and Tom’s kitchen (rude). A hilarious sequence of misunderstandings ensues, which leave you with no doubt that Harry and Tom are absolutely perfect for each other.

Run Boy Run by @youknowmevj (E, 6k)

The ultimate chase & capture fic. The anticipation builds with every one of Harry’s steps as he's trying to run away, and we’re left with some delicious emotional manipulation and a very hot wall sex scene at the end. 

silk of midnight and dawn by @ilya-zzz (E, 3k)

Such a cool concept! Harry and Tom decide to become animagi, and when Tom transforms into his animagus form, his animal instincts kick in... and Harry is right there unable to defend himself...

Tantrums by @crowcrowcrowthing (E, 5k)

Featuring the brattiest Tom I’ve ever come across, and an incredibly impulsive Harry who can’t resist Tom’s allures. You'd think this combination would automatically spell destruction and disaster, but they actually work out really well together in a surprisingly compatible way!

Tearing me apart (like a new emotion) by @rudehellion (E, 2k)

As this fic progresses, the horror of what’s happening to Harry in his forced marriage to Voldemort continues to build and build. Not only is Harry getting taken part physically, he’s also getting taken apart mentally ("Every night, there’s a little more trust to break.") I loved what the ending implies for Voldemort’s favorite hobby.

That's Your Boyfriend by @solavonn (G, Art)

This artwork is so cute!! Depicting Harry who's overwhelmed by how hot his Quidditch boyfriend Tom is. Harry's not the only one — Solavonn's Tom Riddle art is always so good-looking that we all feel the same way, Harry!

The Green Herring by @duplicitywrites (G, 1k)

A hilarious cracky take on what exactly Tom Riddle thinks of his boyfriend Harry’s very special, very extraordinary, very memorable eye colour. 

The sweet burn of venom by @loneamaryllis (E, 4k)

SMOKIN’ HOT ABO! Harrie goes through her first heat, and Voldemort provides relief, but is he really there, or is it a (very hot) dream?

thrice-bound, twice-filled by @cindle-writes (E, 4k)

Voldemort. Hemipenes. Double-stuffing Harry. A perfect setup for a very hot pwp!

We're (Not) Together by @vdoshu (E, 3k)

This fic is the EPITOME of gaslighting and manipulation. An extremely controlling Tom refuses to accept that he and Harry aren’t still together… or are they?

you alone of all creatures by @duplicitywrites (E, 3k)

I love the concept of Tom having an illicit affair with his very sexy and married Professor Potter. All the sneaking around is SO HOT as he seduces Harry and cracks open his defenses bit-by-bit.

*

[lilac-hecox]

Lilac I love you, you are so cool and important to this fandom and I love what you do

But would you chill the fuck out?

Like in a silly goofy joking way.

I get you like Ianthony and you’re scared. No one is allowed to police each others feelings. But like. Girl. Ur making me stressed. I love Ianthony. And the idea that we might barely see them is quite frankly crushing. But I’m doing my best to not be upset about it considering this is what they’ve wanted for years. They were delayed by defy and Anthony leaving. But this has very much always been the goal. I love them. I love their dynamic and their sketches. We cannot deny YouTubers the right to retire like every other profession just because their faces are the brand. They have done an incredibly smart and responsible thing programming the channels the way they have so that they can slip into the background more and more this past year. It hurts. Of course it does. They raised me more than my piece of shit parents ever did. They are partially the reason I am still alive today.

But they deserve their freedom, and the fans need to breathe and not be so clingy.

I’m also in the game theory fandom and have been watching Matpat for around as long as Smosh and he again did a very similar thing slowly passing over his channels and hosting duties. And his fandom reacted very differently than the Smosh fandom. And it’s making the transition harder for everyone involved I fear.

Again have all the feelings you want about it, but I feel like when you and others are anxiety spiraling about the dudes on YouTube you need to step back and take a bit of a breath. Because now I’m anxiety spiraling. Which yea my own thing to deal with. But I just. Post on your own. But when I’m not expecting it and I go into the reblogs on someone else’s post and ur in the notes reminding me that Ian and Anthony are pulling back because you’re busy moping it feels kinda catty?

All this too say everyone’s feelings are so valid and understandable but we have to actually work through them instead of panicking. Please.

If you're talking about what I just reblogged I messaged the op and told them I wasn't trying to attack their post.

I'm aware I'm having anxiety about it. Bro, I wish I could chill the fuck out about this but I'm having a really hard time.

I was talking to a couple friends and explained that Smosh and Ian and Anthony are a happy place for me so I'm scared to lose that and I get that it is mentally not healthy for me to think that way.

I'm trying to not even engage so I don't act like a brat and whiny but I know that I am being that way.

I'm sorry. My mental health is in the toilet and I just don't feel good and this is all making me feel way worse.

Have fun and love Bit City and be happy about it. I don't want people to feel bad or feel like they can't enjoy it. They absolutely can.

Idk I'm confused on your ask you tell me my feelings are valid but then tell me I'm being catty?

I don't mean to be mean or catty. I'm sorry if I've come off that way. I don't like to see a ton of posts saying "Well Angela and Chanse rightfully deserve to take the main channel from Ian and Anthony."

I put a little timer to only give myself a couple of hours on tumblr on my phone a day before it blocks it but maybe I should block it all together to find peace before I don't have any friends in smoshblr left.

[simplyholl]

Practice Makes Perfect Pt. 8

Summary: Loki and Y/N have to pretend to be newlyweds for a mission. What can go wrong?

Pairing: Avenger Loki x F. Avenger Reader

Warnings: Angst. Jealousy.

W/C: 884

See my Masterlist here

The only thing that happened between us is cuddling. Loki hasn’t tried to make a move. I’ve wiggled my ass against him, worn revealing pajamas to bed, and there’s no reaction from him. I guess our last time really was on the mission.

It’s been a week and we take turns sleeping in each other’s room. I wish I didn’t feel anything for him, but I do. It would make getting over him easier if he wasn’t in my bed every night. His scent lingers on my sheets, my clothes, my skin.

I squeeze in the crowded elevator. Bruce asked a few of us to come to the lab. He wants us to try this new material on our suits. When I arrive Nat and Loki are already there. Nat is chatting it up with Bruce. Allyson, the newest lab assistant is standing so closely to Loki you couldn’t fit a ruler between them.

She twirls her long, brown hair between her fingers. Her other hand grasps Loki’s muscles. She looks into his eyes, giggling and batting her lashes. He laughs along with her. He doesn’t acknowledge that I’ve arrived. I don’t blame him for not taking his eyes off her. She’s beautiful; tan skin, shiny brown eyes, perfectly manicured nails, her clothes fit perfectly, accentuating every curve of her body.

I think back to how they interacted before the mission. Were they always flirty and I never noticed? I recall a couple days before we left, she brought Loki breakfast before a meeting. So, they had been close before. Why would he want me when he has Miss Perfect waiting for him? Nausea rises in my stomach. He used me. Of course, the sex was meaningless to him. But how could he sleep with me every night when he had Allyson?

Why wasn’t he sleeping with her now that he’s back? “Here’s your new suit. Y/N? Are you okay?” Bruce was speaking to me and I was too distracted by the god in the room. Story of my life. I take my suit from him, thanking him and trying to run out of there. “May I speak with you for a moment?” Loki’s rich voice sends chills down my arms. I hate how my body reacts to him.

Allyson scowls at me. Has she always been like this with me? I always thought she was sweet. I can’t blame her though. If she knows what transpired between me and her boyfriend, she has every right to be mad. I’m mad at myself. “Allyson was telling me she reads those filthy books you like. I told her you read them all the time. Would you care to give her some recommendations?”

“Yeah, sure. I’ll make a list for you.” I smile weakly. There is no way in hell I’m giving her horny material so she can jump Loki’s bones. She runs her hand down Loki’s arm. “Thanks. I would appreciate it. I’ve been meaning to tell you. Jordan has been talking about you. I think you would hit it off.”

Jordan also works in the lab. He’s attractive and would be my type if a certain dark-haired god hadn’t ruined me for life. I fake smile and tell her I think he’s great. I take a step back trying to escape this conversation. “We should go on a double date!” Allyson suggests, her grip on Loki tightening.

“Um… okay. Sounds great. Text me the details.” I’ve got one foot out the door when Loki calls me back. “My ring. I’ve been meaning to get it back for some time.” He points to his ring still perched on my finger. I honestly forgot I was still wearing it. It felt like it belonged there. Now with Loki bringing attention to it, and Allyson’s venomous gaze on it, it feels like it’s poisonous burning my skin.

I wiggle it off my finger, placing it in Loki’s waiting hand. “Of course, sorry. I should have given it back sooner.” I don’t miss Allyson’s smirk when I take it off. I don’t know why I’ve agreed to a double date. It sounds like my own personal hell. Honestly, I want to see what Loki and Allyson are like together. I need to know if it’s purely physical or if there’s something there.

I’ve been in bed for a few hours. I can’t sleep with so much on my mind. The familiar sound of Loki knocking on my door echoes throughout my quite room. He has some nerve coming here after he made it clear he is dating Allyson. I barely open it, pressing my face to the crack in the door.

“Are you not going to let me in, darling?” he chuckles. Does he think I’m a joke? Rage and hurt course through me. “What are you doing here?” I ask not moving the door an inch. “I’m coming to bed. What are you doing, love?” He looks at me curiously.

“Don’t call me that! Go sleep in your girlfriend’s bed, Loki. You have no business being here when you have her.” I slam the door in his face, and lock it to make sure I get my point across. I sink down against it resting my face in my hands. How did everything go so wrong?

Tags

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