#felt like that would lead to an automatic sweep | Explore Tumblr Posts and Blogs

staycalmandhugaclone · 2 years

Text

If you're new, this all starts with Touch Starved - Echo! You can read this little chunk as a standalone, or head back to the beginning for the full experience!

Febuwhump 8.5 (Extra per request)

No Anesthesia – OC&TBB – Wrecker’s overzealous efforts to destroy a building lead to Doc getting pinned in a dire situation.

Warnings: Very heavy whump in this one, with a couple moments of descriptive gore and medical procedures, impalement, difficulty breathing, near death, cursing. TW: claustrophobia

WC: 5116

Watching them work was a thing of beauty; the way they adjusted effortlessly to each other’s movements without the need for speech; how they seemed to glide over the debris-covered streets of this ruined city, strong limbs carrying them with an effortless grace that I could watch for hours. Unfortunately, the trio of elite soldiers darting toward the capital building weren’t meant to be the focus of my attention.

While Hunter, Echo, and Tech gave the appearance of charging the final stronghold of this decrepit city head-on, Wrecker was already traipsing about the far side of the towering structure with Crosshair perched in a nearby building as cover. I’d been positioned in the building just in front of the target, ordered to oversee this side of the battle to ensure our route back to the Marauder was clear.

“Does this mean I get a rifle, too?” My earlier tease hadn’t been serious, though there had been some knowingly futile hope. Crosshair’s dismissive, bored glance was all the answer I needed, but I caught the smirk that touched those thin lips as he’d turned away.

The pair of pistols offered a comforting weight at my waist, but, from this vantage, I was purely a pair of eyes. Sweeping the macrobinoculers away from the brilliant displays of prowess effortlessly dodging enemy fire, I searched the path back toward the ancient fungal forests lining the city, but the streets were empty beyond the occasional robotic limb ending in a tangle of wires.

“Wrecker, eta?” The growl of the Sergeant’s voice was a welcomed change against the terrible quiet from being so high above them, and I found myself automatically searching for flashes of black and red armor darting between mounds of rubble. Once, this had been a thriving metropolis, towering skyscrapers jutting up in stark contrast to the softer shapes of surround fungi as millions of everyday civilians went about their lives.

Now, barely a handful of towers still stood, but so many citizens remained, hiding, trying desperately to survive long enough to find some hope for the future. Taking out the opportunistic pirates holed up in the capital building would be the first step in granting them some chance to rebuild in the wake of what those ignorant to the horrors of war would call a victory.

“Ready when you are!” Wrecker nearly shouted gleefully, his excitement an instant boon to the oppressive quiet.

“We’re clear. Do it.” Hunter’s order barely finished before the world shook beneath a massive eruption. I felt my breath catch in my throat, macrobinoculars falling to my chest as I stared in shock at how slowly it fell; only noting a gentle tilt at first, but then, as though the structure itself merely gave it, the entire thing wilted. It sounded like rain from up there, the tumble of stone atop stone singing in the same cadence of an angry storm. Vaguely, I noted that the building now visible beyond where that tower had just been concealed Crosshair somewhere in those unending levels of dark glass.

“Wrecker, what in the karking hells was that?!” Hunter roared, and I could clearly picture the thick vein pulsing in his neck.

“Just, yuh know, figured I’d make sure”

“Kriff - Doc! Run!” What? Was that panic in Crosshair’s voice? He didn’t panic… he… I’d just forced myself to my feet, hands pushing atop the heavy medpack I’d been using as a rest when that first whisper of confusion stole over me. Moving… It felt like…

Dread. Cold and fast and flooding my veins with lead. The world outside the window was shifting, sliding, rising. It was easier to see it that way: like everything else was moving instead of me, because, if that wasn’t the case, if I was wrong… I was dead. My eyes darted back across that now empty space once more, as though there was some hope of finding those amber eyes, some hope that he might reveal a miracle to save me at the last second, but then I was cursing myself, feet scrambling beneath me to race away from the window lest I find myself falling through it.

The way my stomach flipped. The disorientating dance of unstable flooring beneath me was its own hell, but I didn’t stop, fleeing madly through the maze of corridors. How high up was I? Four stories? Five? How many seconds had it taken the capital building to finally plummet? How could I possibly reach anywhere remotely safe in time?

I could hear everything begin to fall apart. It didn’t sound like rain anymore. It was loud and relentless, and the dust filled the air too quickly for me to even realize I was suffocating beneath it until it obscured my sight barely a foot from my face. The floor began to drop, folding beneath the weight of an immeasurable mass of stone and metal overhead, tilting into such a steep angle, my feet began to slide out from under me, hands shooting forward for something, anything to grab onto. Something crashed against my chest as the last bit of solidity vanished beneath my toes, and the hurt of jagged edges burring between slats of armor didn’t matter because at least it wasn’t crumbling into the abyss below.

The desperation that drove me to cling to that ledge, the frenzy fueling my limbs as I scrambled up, and the sudden exhaustion in that exact second I realized I’d made it, body flopping onto my side as I dragged sharp gulps of air through my gaping jaw; it was all a mere blink of raw panic, and it robbed me of every thought and memory and dream until the distant hum slowly solidified into a voice.

“Doc! What’s your status?! Are you okay?!” Hunter’s voice shouted from my comm. I watched my hand reach for it before my mind caught up with the motion, fingers trembling too violently to grasp the narrow cylinder for just a few seconds too long. “Doc!”

“I’m okay.” I found myself whispering, body painfully tensed, frozen, but the sharp relief in the chorus of sighs drew a small smirk to my lips. “I… I think I-” It was such a strange thing. I didn’t hear the floor crumble, nor feel that terrible weightlessness of falling… but I heard the tiny gasp; that quiet, sharp intake of air, and then the flood of indistinguishable voices flooding my comm was the only thing I could focus on as my body plummeted the handful of stories to the mess of rubble below.

“…!” What was that?

“…-ease say…thing…” Fading in and out.

“-oc! … me?!” Muffled.

“Over h…!” A rhythmic tabbing.

“… see her!” Maybe… water?

“Be care…! …unsta…” No… footsteps?

“Kriff.” It was the horror in that voice that finally breached the fog distorting what fleeting sliver of reality surrounded me. Crosshair… If he sounded like that… something must be wrong… couldn’t sleep anymore.

“Echo, Crosshair; get the Marauder here, now!” Hunter… needed to find out why he was so worried… “Wrecker, start clearing that debris off of her – carefully!” I don’t know how long my eyes had been fluttering listlessly against the distant thought that I needed to wake up – to help them, but only darkness continued to stare back at me. The sound of skittering pebbles seemed to reverberate all around me; couldn’t figure out where it had come from… couldn’t remember why it mattered. That familiar voice continued speaking in the darkness, but the words vanished in distorted murmurs and distant thunder.

I didn’t notice the weight until it shifted; some impossible pressure spanning across my chest, down my stomach, across my hips, pinning my left arm and leg fast against whatever frigid, uneven surface lay beneath me, digging into my back and calf. Once I felt it, however, it consume me; and I wondered how long my torso had been shuddering beneath failed gasps, body simply too weak to push against that heaviness and the agony even the slightest movement sent shooting throughout my chest. Drowning; stomach churning amidst the sharp tang of iron.

Something wrapped carefully around the back of my neck. A hand. I felt their fingers slip under my helmet to gently tilt my head up just enough to ease the bucket off, and my eyes slammed shut against the assault of blinding lights. Another touch quickly settled over me, blocking out that blinding brightness. Touch… I was… The terror of the reality surrounding me began to clear, and I wasn’t surprised by how violently I trembled.

“Can you hear me? Doc! Can you hear me?” Scowling against the fear and cold. the agony tearing through my lung, the burning of suffocation screaming for a breath I couldn’t force past shaking lips, still, I dragged my gaze to the dark visor only just visible over the edge of those fingers. My vision blurred, cringing against that terrible brightness once more as he quickly withdrew his hand to wrench off his helmet. Hunter…

“Look at me, Doc!” There was a fear in that order, but the touch of his palm slipping over my cheek was nothing if not gentle. My gaze just managed to find his when that weight shifted once more. My jaw trembled against a choked scream I simply didn’t have breath to voice, some useless wheeze catching in my throat as my body seized beneath the bursts of sharp fire burring through my chest, my leg; white-hot and so deathly wrong, it flooded my eyes with tears and sent my heart racing in panic.

“Careful!” Hunter barked, attention snapping up to someone I couldn’t see over the mound of rubble. Brows drawing together, I felt my blood run cold as some dreaded understanding washed over me. That rubble… trapped… I was-

“No-no; hey Doc, I need you to look at me, right now.” He forced the rushed words into some belated façade of calm, hand dragging my gaze away from the towering pile of metal and stone and destroyed belongings once treasured by now displaced citizens. I initially attempted to fight him, staggering mind fighting to make sense of just how abysmal my situation was, but whatever strength I once processed was quickly dripping onto the shattered remains of civilization laying beneath me, seeping over dust and debris in a crimson pool of stolen warmth.

“Listen to me,” That wasn’t an order, “Come on, Doc; just look at me.” He was begging… He knew how bad this was, and he was afraid for me in a way that consumed me. There wasn’t a damn thing I would do to fix this, and that realization was a nightmare I wasn’t ready to address… but I could do what he said. If only to grant him some vain comfort in the futile belief that he still held some sliver of control over this. For whatever time I still could, I would grant him that, and the encouraging smile that just touched his lips when my eyes found his once more was more than enough reason.

“Good,” He murmured, “The Negotiator’s already en route to meet us. After we get all this off you, we’ll have you in their medbay within the hour. You just need to stay with us until then, okay?” I couldn’t answer him beyond a tiny nod, chest still seizing beneath the shallow flutters of frantic gasps that I tried desperately not to count. I didn’t see Wrecker begin pulling at that final, massive chunk of debris.

White. Stopstopstopstop. Shouting. Nails bent as my fingers clawed into the stone beneath me. Muscles contracted, flailing, useless. Hearts aren’t meant to beat that fast. How could it be so impossibly cold even as that searing, shrieking, rending heat tore through my chest? The nerves were panicking. Everyone was yelling. My chest bucked, straining to cough, copper flooding my mouth, trickling down my cheek. It tickled, and some part of me knew it was blood.

“Stay with us! Dank farrik! Stay with us!” I could feel the air wash over my face as he screamed my name, hands grasping my cheeks just hard enough to ache in some desperate plea to draw my attention back to him. Floating. Like I’d somehow become disconnected. “No-no-no, Doc, please!” Even through the fear and pain and consuming need for even a moment’s reprieve, that terror in his voice is what ruined me. I felt my eyes moving, rolling blindly about the nothingness before me for several seconds before some hint of color slowly returned. Shapes. Movement.

“Good-good; you fight, dammit – you stay with us!” The relief in his order growled through clenched teeth.

“There appear to be rebar”

“I saw them, Tech.” Hunter snapped, but quickly forced himself to release a quick breath. “I know.” There was a silent apology in the sighed words. I could feel the tension seeping through my chest, robbing me of what minuscule whispers of air those worthlessly fluttered gasps could offer, but I forced my gaze to remain on the man still kneeling over me despite how my vision blurred and spun.

“She has a hemopneumothorax – air and blood are pooling in the pleural space causing her lung to collapse. I’ll have to insert a chest tube to relieve the pressure.” Wrecker should have interrupted him… Why didn’t he interrupt him - balk and the wordy description and mock his brother for overexplaining? I’d never wanted the normally loud and cheerful man to talk over that brilliant pilot before, but I would have given almost anything not to hear those words spoken aloud, body already tensing against the coming pain. Desperate pleas burned atop my tongue, forced into silence at the simple knowledge that it would only hurt them, and, still, Tech would have to push through.

“If it were one of us where you are,” Hunter started quietly, drawing my attention eagerly back to those dark eyes, “would you do any less?” Frowning through a scowl, something like sobs shook through me. Ass. My head shook weakly. If any one of them had been trapped in this nightmare, I’d stop at nothing to see them live another day.

“Didn’t think so.” He murmured before drawing a deep breath. “I want you to bite down on this.” Body heavy with a growing sense of exhaustion and helplessness, I had to strain to look for him. I think it was his glove, twisted inside-out into something of a ball. My jaw shifted listlessly, lips barely managing to part, and I could see the worry spike in those gorgeous eyes, but he said nothing about it, palm carefully whispering over my cheek as his thumb pressed against my chin to help me open my mouth enough for him to slip the wad of fabric and armor and a tang that I would forever associate with forests and dirt and something feral and utterly him between my teeth.

There was no warning. My body jerked against the violent intrusion of ice and hurt burring between my ribs, each panicked twitch of muscle tearing at the lengths of metal piercing my chest. Something pressed against me, pinning me down as my jaw clamped shut.

“Almost done.” The gentleness of that murmur ripped a fresh sob from me, and, a moment later, that sharpness digging through me stopped, fading into a terrible, throbbing ache. “Alright, you did good. Just breathe.” He praised, easing the glove from my lips. I wanted to scream at him that I couldn’t breathe. That my body was dying, and I didn’t want them to see me like this; that I was so, so terribly tired; that I just wanted to rest, if only for a moment, but my diaphragm jerked taut, wrenching a tiny gasp into failing lungs. It was the deepest breath I’d managed since waking, and part of me loathed that teasing glimmer of hope.

“We’re ready – why isn’t that thing off of her, yet?” Crosshair snapped.

“There are several lengths of rebar protruding from the bottom that have impaled her chest and leg.” I didn’t have to see him. I could hear his dread in the weight of his silence.

“Now that the Marauder is nearby, we must move quickly.” Tech prodded, and the weak, relentless tremble stealing through me grew violent. There was no thought beyond the desperate screaming of nerves still raw from the last time Wrecker attempted to free me from that final boulder, mind suddenly unable to remember anything beyond that pain, beyond the overwhelming certainty that I wouldn’t survive it again.

“Wait!” I gasped, straining to grasp some manner of clarity with which to plead my case, certain I could find a valid reason to somehow avoid the coming hurt, but I merely heard my terribly frail voice beg, “Wai-wait.”

“Doc, you know we can’t.” The apology in his voice broke me, wincing at how the sharp sob jostled the screaming flesh surrounding those metal stakes.

“Well… She’s got painkillers in that bag, right? We can give her those – take the edge off, at least?” Wrecker asked hopefully.

“Unfortunately, anything we have that depresses the nervous system, also depresses the respiratory system; hers, of which, is already severely compromised.” Tech stated automatically. “Additionally, I am unsure where her bag landed, and have only what supplies I brought myself.”

“If we don’t hurry up, she won’t need painkillers.” Crosshair hissed.

“He’s right.” I watched the muscles ball over his jaws as the Sergeant looked over his shoulder to his brothers. “Crosshair stabilize her chest. Wrecker, lift it smoothly on his count. Tech, be ready with the coagulant.” Something passed between them in silence before the sniper quickly kneeled beside me, absently pulling the gloves from those skillful hands, and I hated the way that tremble redoubled at the simple realization that he was about to touch that ruined flesh.

“Don’t look at him, right now – look at me.” The rich smokiness of Hunter’s voice was a comfort in itself, but when it dropped into such a gentle murmur, if only for a moment, nothing else mattered, and I instantly found myself moving to obey him as he shifted to position himself between me and the others, blocking my view of their final preparations.

“You remember that little talk of us becoming settlers?” He was whispering, body just curling over me, and it felt so easy to pretend, to melt into any reality other than the one around me… I answered with a small nod. “The settlers of Clone Force 99 wouldn’t get very far without their medic… You going to abandon all that ruckus of city life to keep on adventuring with us?” The broken smile that pulled unsteadily at my lips held none of the terror and pain fighting to overwhelm me, but I could taste the sadness in it.

“Ca-can’t get r…rid of me…” I gasped on what useless huffs of air my ruined lungs could hold. He smiled back with that same threat of heartbreak before his shoulders jerked with a sharp breath, attention shifting briefly behind him. When he turned back to me, the dread in his eyes turned my blood to ice.

“Listen to me; we’ve got to get this thing off you – you ready?” I felt the automatic movement of my head shaking, trapped in some horrified denial that this was happening… but I knew there simply wasn’t time for that… Brows pulling sharply together, I turned hard eyes up to his, and I knew he saw how deathly afraid I was as I gave a firm nod. Again, he eased my lips apart to slip that glove between my teeth. “Alright. You just focus on me for a while, okay?”

Something slid between my torso and the mass of stone, and I could feel the shredded muscles twitching in some futile plea to escape. The knowledge that it was Crosshair’s fingers offered no relief. In a moment of yielding to that mounting fear, my arm lashed out, hand latching onto Hunter’s wrist.

“Hunter…” It sounded like I was pleading, begging around teeth already burring into his glove, and I hated it, but then his thumbs began dancing gently over my cheeks, wiping at tears I hadn’t noticed fall, and his touch was the only comfort in a nightmare of hurt. In that moment, I couldn’t fight the depth of my own need as I stared up at him.

“I know.” He breathed, remorse and guilt weighing each syllable.

I didn’t hear Crosshair’s signal. I didn’t hear the rumble of stone beginning to shift, nor whatever attempts at calming words fled those dancing lips as Hunter’s hands locked me in place. My back fought to arch, muscles thrashing for any relief, but Crosshair kept me pinned down. What useless wisps of air I’d held tried to escape in a barked scream, diaphragm seizing, but my throat closed too tightly even for that. My jaw snapped shut, eyes wide. Tearing. Ripping. Rending through me with such a violent sense of wrong and panic and cold.

“We’ll find someplace beside a river.” His lips brushed over my ear, cheek flush against mine, and I could feel how his fingers shook where they’d tangled into my hair. “Tech’ll design some overly fancy place to live, and I’m going to need you to deal with him and Wrecker bickering while we build it.” That sharp tang of copper… My chest bucked, but couldn’t manage to rid my mouth of that nauseating heat. “Echo and Cross can hunt so I can help you keep the peace.” I could feel the tissue drag against the textured ridges along the metal, felt them chip against my rib, and my stomach flipped. “Bet you can convince Cross to pick up knitting – make everything matching scarfs by winter.” Echoing… why was his voice echoing like that? I didn’t like the way it blurred with that horrid sound of churning meat, the wet sucking of floundering lungs; that distant thudding.

“…please.” My name sobbed from lips twisted into a scowl. “We’re so close, Doc; just hold on.” Hold on? Couldn’t… the very rigidity of my bones seemed to abandon me, jaw falling slack, body barely tensing beneath the occasional huff of a cough, but even that autonomic effort to clear my lungs enough to draw breath was failing.

Whatever relief that distant recess of my mind hoped to feel as that final inch slipped free fell frightfully silent. I felt how my body moved beneath freshly panicked touches and shouted orders; felt them push me onto my side as Wrecker’s massive hands shifted around Crosshair’s to apply pressure to the wounds; felt Tech began packing each puncture with foam, felt it sink through me and swell. I felt some fleeting attempt at a whimper choke over numb lips as Hunter held my head steady as though there were still some point to maintaining some semblance of support lest unseen injuries to my neck render me paralyzed, felt his lips continue that pleading dance against my ear before straining to make out his words.

“Just a few more, then we’ll get you out of here.” He promised. “Echo’s just outside. You hear me?” I couldn’t feel that hurt anymore. Not really. “Don’t you dare fall asleep, Doc. Not now.” But I could still fell his warmth. “We’re too damn close for you to give up now.” The calluses of his fingers. “One more – just one more.” What was… was he crying? I was certain I’d felt his shoulders jerk ever so slightly. “Please… stay with me.” I think I tried to move – to find those eyes; to show him I was trying…

“That’s it! Move!” Crosshair shouted. The way the world tumbled around me; the shock of sunlight robbing my already fleeting vision… I tried to listen; tried to find them through the distorted mockery of reality, but everything was spinning too quickly to find even a whisper of logic beyond the certainty that I knew I was as safe as I could possibly be in their hands, and I didn’t doubt that it would be enough.

Despite a lifetime in hospitals and medbays, still my nose crinkled at the sharp scent of antiseptic. The beginnings of a moan caught in my throat with a choked grunt of pain, body shuddering beneath the deep ache that bloomed in my chest.

“-sy; try not to move yet.” Echo… I’d know his voice even in a chorus of his brothers. Brows drawing together in a weak pout, I forced my eyes open, squinting slightly against the way the dim colors blurred. “Hey,” The greeting left in a huff that sounded like it desperately wanted to be a sob, “It’s good to see you back in the land of the living.” I let that pout pull up into a brief scowl, before offering a fleeting glimpse of a smile.

“We’re still aboard the Negotiator,” He explained quietly, lips settling into a gentle smile of his own as he stepped closer to my bedside, and I was pleased to find my vision slowly clearing enough to find those amber eyes. “Don’t push yourself if it hurts, but can you talk, yet?” Of course, I could, if only because he asked. Mouth parting slightly, I drew a purposeful breath, but let it out with a slight shutter, body hesitating beneath the foreign sensation that should have been commonplace.

“Yeah.” I managed on my second attempt, voice hoarse, but it easier than I’d anticipated, and the beaming grin it brought to Echo’s still pale lips was well worth the effort.

“Great,” He sighed in relief. “They had to replace parts of that lung, but the medbay here is topnotch – only had to keep you on bacta for a couple days before they’d grown enough to replace the damaged sections.” I listened passively to his explanation, not bothering to interrupt him with the reminder that I was intimately familiar flagship medbays.

“They’ll have regrown me a whole new set of lungs by the time this war ends.” I grumbled, heart soaring at the quiet chuckle it drew from him. “Wher- mgh.” I started, but the instant I tried to look around, the muscles around my ribs balked.

“Whoa – I said not to move.” He chided, expression twisting in a sympathetic grimace as he carefully laid his hand over my shoulder. I tried to do just that: to let my body melt back against the thin cot, but it was several seconds before those frantic muscles began to still.

“That’s it; easy.” He murmured quietly. I felt the chill sweep through me beneath the icy sweat that broke out over my skin, quickly soaking into my hair and the pale patient gown. “Might have a couple rough days of recovery ahead of you, but the hard part’s over.” He promised, “And we’re not going anywhere until you’re back on your feet.” The suddenness with which those words ripped a sob from me and flooded my eyes with tears should have surprised me, but, beneath the overwhelming rush of relief, I couldn’t bring myself to care, gaze darting back to him in a quiet gasp. His tongue swept quickly over his lips, expression mirroring the tentative hope bursting through my chest.

“Yeah – General Kenobi cleared it. Between him and Cody, there’s not really a lot of people high enough rank to overrule… so… we’re not going anywhere.” Finally, I merely let myself crumble amidst that relief, tears falling silently down my cheeks. His grip tightened slightly around me as he continued. “The others got kicked out – the medics here are pretty strict on the one-visitor rule, so we’ve been taking shifts.” I tried to show him the depth of my gratitude in the weak smile that tugged at my lips, and I didn’t doubt how clearly he understood.

I wasn’t sure when I’d fallen asleep, but it felt like I’d merely blinked before suddenly finding myself surrounded by the others. The beginnings of a chuckle quickly devolved into choked, painful coughs. Someone carefully pulled me up enough to lessen some of the strain, and I wasn’t surprised when Hunter’s deep voice whispered in my ear.

“Shh, if that control-freak of a medic hears you, he’ll kick us out again.” Despite my best attempts to hold it back, a fresh burst of laughter brought with it the same breathless coughs. Another hand gently swept along my back in a slow, soothing rhythm. Blurring eyes shifted to find Echo, lip caught between his teeth in worry. Too-quick breaths escaping in a painful wheeze, I slowly managed to regain some bit of control, body melting into the warmth of their touch.

“You lot look like shit.” I mumbled, noting the dark circles around their eyes, the way the normally rich gold of their skin appeared almost sickly even in the blessedly dimmed light. The collection of scoffs only fueled my weary grin.

“Yeah, she’s fine.” Crosshair said dismissively, arms looping over his chest, but even his lips hinted at a smirk.

“I don’t think any of us have gotten much sleep since we landed.” Hunter admitted, thumb shifting almost nervously over my shoulder. I let my eyes slip closed, head resting against him as my still quick breaths began to ease into something closer to normal.

“H-hey Doc?” Something about Wrecker’s hesitant call broke my heart. I quickly sought out those mismatched eyes and found myself mourning the sorrow in them. “I’m… I’m real sorry about… well, I should’a just followed the plan ‘stead of… yuh know…”

“Wrecker.” His name sighed through a worried frown, fingers of my right hand flaring in invitation. He paused for a mere moment before stepping forward, and, not for the first time, I silently remarked on just how small I was against him as he carefully slipped his hand around mine. “I know you didn’t mean to hurt me.” I assured him quietly, but my words offered no balm to his guilt. “It was a mistake. You learned from it, right?” There was no judgement in those softly spoken words, and he offered a small nod. I instantly rewarded him with a broad smile. “Alright then.” I said simply, “lesson learned. I’m okay. You’re all okay… Nothing to forgive.”

“You mean it?” He pressed, still tensed as though expecting some sharp words, and I wanted so desperately to pull him to my chest as whisper promises and reassurances to him until he believed me.

“I mean it.” In the moment, however, those firm, loving words were all I could manage, but, at the relief that eased the tension from his shoulders, it seemed enough.

Click here or message me if you'd like to be added to a taglist!

Click here for my Masterlist.

Taglist: @arctrooper69

151 notes · View notes

tildeathiwillwrite · 10 months

Text

Merry Whumpmas 2023 Day 1: Hospital

(featuring OC's Rowan and Victoria)

TW: Broken ribs, hospital, ghost, bruises, sprained wrist, IV drip, needle mention, heart monitor painkiller mention

Masterpost

Rowan regained consciousness slowly. At first, the only thing he was aware of was how he was somehow unable to fully draw breath. It was as if his chest was constricted somehow.

The second thing he became aware of was the stabbing pain and the sensation of bone grinding together whenever he tried to inhale too forcibly.

He groaned softly, which led to the discovery of a third thing: the plastic oxygen mask covering his mouth and nose. He then noticed the softness of a bed beneath him, a blanket overtop him, the bandages bound tightly across his chest and around his left wrist. The fingers of his left hand twitched automatically with this newest discovery, and cold flames licked up his arm as a result.

Rowan’s eyes fluttered open. The harsh lights overhead threatened to blind him, and he squinted at his surroundings. He lay on his back in one of those hospital beds at an angle that wasn’t completely flat but not straight upright either, somewhere in between. The ceiling was made of foam squares with tiny black dots—or were those holes? He couldn’t tell—and the walls were a dull white.

As Rowan studied the walls, trying to determine if they were textured, a… figure… of some sort detached itself from the exact spot on the wall he was staring at. He barely made out the outline as it moved from one side of the room to the other before vanishing through the opposite wall. He blinked in shock, expecting to have felt some boiling unease at the sight of the specter. So the ghost was harmless…?

He continued his sweep of the room. A complex machine rested to the left of his bed, one of the screens displaying what he assumed was a heart monitor, beeping softly for every second that passed. An IV drip next to it almost drew his attention to the needle embedded in his arm, but he forced himself to look to the other side of the room.

On his right side was the door leading out to the rest of the hospital. Next to the door were two chairs, with the space for a third chair left empty. As his eyes finished moving to the right, he realized why. The chair had been moved closer to his bed, and sitting in it, with eyes closed and head resting at an uncomfortable angle against the wall, was Victoria.

Rowan stared at her, listening to the constant beeping of his heart and the distant whirring of some other machine nearby. Two cuts on her face had been cleaned and bandaged, and several bruises in various shades decorated what skin was visible underneath her loose band shirt and jeans. More time passed until he sheepishly realized he should probably let her know he was awake.

“Hey,” he said, wincing. Speaking hurt a lot more than he thought it would. It didn’t help that his throat felt like sandpaper. The oxygen mask fogged up when he talked and muffled the sound slightly. “I think this place is haunted.”

Victoria started awake, blinking rapidly as her eyes readjusted to the bright lights. “Oh—uh—you’re awake!” She gasped out when she noticed him staring at her.

“Uh… yeah.” He slowly inhaled, trying not to disturb his injuries. “...Did what’s-her-name break my ribs?”

“Yeah. Pretty badly, from what the doctors told us. They’ve had you on some pretty strong painkillers for hours now.”

“...ah… that would explain the ghost I saw.”

She squinted at him. “You saw a ghost?”

“Uhuh. Came right through that wall over there.” He lifted his right hand to point at the spot where it had emerged. “And passed through the wall behind me.”

Victoria stared at the wall he indicated. “Well…” she said softly, “I was about to tell you it was the painkillers, ghosts aren’t real, but I honestly don’t know what’s supposed to be real and what isn’t any more.” She turned back to him. “You weren’t really in a coherent state when we managed to get you here. All the blunt force trauma messed you up pretty badly. What do you remember of the fight?”

Rowan grimaced. “I remember Granite or whatever-her-name-was got pretty pissed off when I kept dodging the big rocks she was throwing, so she focused her efforts solely on me… and I saw Sam… and then…” he shrugged and immediately regretted it. “Ugh… think those painkillers are wearing off… where is Sam anyway? And Ollie?”

“Waiting room,” Victoria said casually. Standing, she stretched, making a face as her sore muscles and bruises protested. “They wouldn’t let us in at all, at first, but we insisted. They only relented on the condition it was one at a time and we wouldn’t try to wake you up. Ollie’s gonna be so mad when he finds out you woke up and he wasn’t there.” She glanced at the door. “Speaking of… I should let the nurses know you’re awake.”

She crossed the room to the door before pausing with one hand on the knob. “Don’t… do anything stupid.”

Rowan rolled his eyes. “Since when have I done anything stupid?”

Victoria smirked and left the room, the door silently shutting behind her. Rowan settled back and focused on breathing with as little pain as he could manage. An impossible task, perhaps, but doable. Once he got another dose of pain meds.

(Rowan and Victoria are from a project I'm currently referring to as my teen superhero story. They appear in another story that I haven't posted here yet but will eventually.)

#merry whumpmas #my writing #oc writing #rowan ftdc #victoria ftdc #tw broken ribs #tw needle #tw pain #tw broken bones #tw painkillers #tw hospital #superhero story #whump #whump broken ribs #whump hospital #painkiller #ghost #forsaken: the doomed city #ftdc

13 notes · View notes

thewritersaddictions · 1 year

Text

Drabbles: Negan Smith- Chocolate Addict

Going out with Negan was a rare occurrence. It was normally once a month if not twice. But not much more then that most months.

They were the equivalent to a monthly date. Just the two of us to be around each other. Sure Negan had other more important things to do. Sure Negan had his wives, but nothing was better then spending time with me

His words not mine.

With each outing Negan would declare something that he just had to find. For the past few years Negan had been talking about how much he missed particular things from before the world filled with raiders, zombies, and assholes. "I was really thinking about that good kind of Mac and cheese. You know the one I’m talking about Y/n." Negan mumbled as we would walk into another abandoned building or house in half-assed desperate search of supplied and such.

The list was an ever growing one changing almost every single time we would venture out by ourselves.one time it had been about the luxury of soft, brand new pillows the memory foam ones. "They just make you sleep the best." Negan would huff as we passed by another set of abandoned homes. "I could really use a new cycle of cooks for my shelve back home." Negan had become an avid reader. Raised brows would catch his eye. "Oh don’t play coy with me Y/n I know you’re in search for the second part of that romantic book you sometimes read at night next to me in bed." I’d roll my eyes and continue the search for yes supplied but also that second book.

Of course he also always never without a doubt complained about not have a pack of cigarettes. Not those were easy to find either. So scavenging we went.

Lucille hanging over his shoulder and a handy shotgun as my side gave us some leeway for walking about just the two of us.

That's when Negan started rambling on about the thing he was in search for today. "I was thinking I haven't had a good bite of ice cream in a long while now." Negan said as we contiuned to walk. "Oh Ice cream was what you were thinking about last night?" I ask him with one brow raised. Teasing him ever so slighty. "And other things babygirl other things." He said sweetly before grabbing me and pulling me close to his side.

"Are you still in search for those other things you've been talking about?" I whisper to him. He nods as we come up on a new section of strip mall we haven't searched before. A gas station sits in front. Negan takes the lead, and I follow close behind. Negan is careful managing to make sure there aren't any zombies hanging around.

Oh FUCK yeah I found them. They've got like twenty left." Negan shouted rather stupidly. The sounds started automatically. The sweeping of feet on the dirty ground, and the sounds of garggling then the running of them towards me.

"NEGAN A LITTLE HELP HERE!" I shouted, I took a few shouts then grabbed onto my knife that was in my back pocket draperatly trying to grab one and kill itv before it killed me. Then the weight of the zombie was gone and his head was bashed in. I watched as Negan repeated his actions.

I stayed on the ground, my heartbeat in my ear and then I felt his hand on my arm. "Are you alright babe?" He asked worry inprinted on his features. I grabbed his hand and he helped me up. "Jesus christ, I don't think… I'm okay I think." I muttered mostyl to myself as I got myself steady on my feet.

From the corner of my eye I saw something. "What else were you looking for honey?" I asked my voice a little hoarse. Neganw as still staring at me. "Why don't we just take a moment and breath yeah?" Negan tried. I shook my head. "What else were you looking for?" I ask again. "I was thinking about chocolate recently, Why?" I shake my head and start to walk away from Negan.

He follows close behind me. "What are you up to babe?" He asks. "Well ice cream isn't really a thing you can find out in the wild, but you know what is?" I ask Negan as I grab at the left over chocolates. "What is?" He asks still very concerned.

"Chocolate Negan!" I giggled. I was smiling wide. "Holy fuckin' shit!" Negan muttered as he grabbed a bar from my hand and unwrapped it shoving it in his mouth. His eyes glew and he moaned around the piece. "Oh fuck! That's fuckin' wonderful." Negan said.

Completed on: 06/12/23

Posted on: 08/08/23

The Wanderers-

22 notes · View notes

adelha-mathilde · 4 months

Text

A Fateful Dance (Prince!Vash AU) drabble

content: Vash is given the chance to dance with the one lady he is falling in love with. Which leads into a deepening relationship.

This formal ball would be the death of him. That is what Vash thought as he sat next to his twin. Both of them seated on thrones as the nobles waltzed in time. While Duke Legato stood at attention beside King Nai to look as stoic as ever. Vash could feel his eyes drift closed for the upteenth time to fight to open them again. His boredom apparent as Wolfwood nudged his seat with a foot. The knight soon placing a hand on the shoulder of the crown prince. "Oi. Stay awake and try not to fall over. Perhaps you should ask one of the many ladies present for a dance, hmm?Like say a certain Countess Mathilde?"

Vash felt his whole body heat for him to sit up straight at the implication. His face burning as he grumbled under his breath. "Low blow, Nick. She isn't even in the room right now. Probably still in the kitchen or already retired for the night." But Wolfwood just snickered to lean in and whisper to his best friend. "She's actually out on the balcony. Her guardians already told me to get your rump in gear and ask her for a dance out there. Away from the mob so you can be alone together."

The crown prince was on his feet before his brain registered that last sentence. His gaze going to the balcony automatically as Duke Legato scowled at Vash. But then a servant came forwards to slip a letter to King Nai. Which he read promptly to then grin. His words warm and full of amusement as he spoke. "It would seem that the Countess Mathilde is asking for my brother to help her with a personal matter. So I have been asked to excuse you for however long such takes for your assistance. With the added incentive of an entire bottle of vintage absinthe to sweeten the barter. So get gone already."

Vash nodded to all but skip down the steps and rush to the balcony. Where there awaited a lady currently gazing at the stars overhead. Vash stopped at the sight of her to take in her visage. Cascading waves of silver white hair. A slender figure that spoke of grace and poise as well as toned strength. Her gown was a deep blue adorned with silver and crystals. The faint scent of lavender for her perfume. Yet what took Vash in were her eyes. The most striking azure blue he had ever seen. Like the sea during a winter thunderstorm. Yet in those depths there was warmth and delight when she spotted him. Her smile sweet for her to reach a gloved hand out to him in offering. So he took her hand to kneel before her and place a kiss to her hand. "Sorry to make you wait. By the heavens do you look gorgeous, Adelha."

Adelha chuckled to tug on his hand so he would stand up. A lilt in her words as she spoke with sweet warmth. "I don't mind waiting for a good soul. Especially a soul of sunlit hues like you, Vash. I take it your twin was more than willing to accept my barter of vintage absinthe for your company?" Vash smiled to give a huff of amusement. "Yep. But I think he would have let me go even without that added incentive. He really likes you a lot and knows that... Well..." Vash felt his whole face and neck burn as he said with a bit of shy sweetness, "He knows how much I favor you..." Adelha beamed with sheer delight to take both of his hands in her own. "A blessing in it of itself. But come. This song is a favorite of mine. So let's not waste the given opportunity."

Vash nodded to sweep Adelha into a waltz right away. Their steps in tune to sway and shuffle about the balcony as the music played. With Vash finding himself smiling with genuine delight as Adelha followed his lead. The scent of lavender touching his every breath with the faintest trace of ocean salt. But he found himself captivated to continue the dance as the next song began. Sweeping Adelha off her feet at one point for her to laugh in enjoyment. The sound akin the bells chiming as Vash laughed right along with her. His tension and fatigue completely banished as he savored his time with a beautiful lady.

Four whole songs came and went before Vash paused to give them time to rest. Which had Adelha hum before she stepped closer. Her words heated yet sweet as she spoke. "Might I be selfish and ask the gentleman for a kiss?" Vash felt his heart skip as the request registered. Yet he found that it was one that he deeply desired himself. So he took a breath before he made his move. Leaning down to gently place his lips to hers as his hands rested at her waist. She tasted of honeyed mead and citrus. Which had his body burn even as he snuck a second kiss from the lady. Her own sigh washing against his mouth for her to nip at his lower lip in a third kiss. But the two were then interrupted from a loud cough coming from the entranceway back into the throne room. Making both Vash and Adelha turn to see King Nai standing there. The elder twin not looking the least bit surprised for him to all but glare at his twin. "Vash. Do I have to swoop in and protect the lady from the wiles of an eager angel?"

Vash squacked to look to the sky even as Adelha chuckled openly. But she soon made her move to just outright lift Vash up and right off the floor. His yelp a loud one as she tossed him into the air before catching him. Making King Nai blink in stunned shock as Adelha set Vash back onto his feet. Her words laced with both amusement and mischief. "Fret not, Nai. If Vash was really stepping out of bounds with me, I would readily toss him across the balcony and back into the throne room. But I appreciate the thought of you keeping me safe." Vash felt his whole body heat with a blush for him to gulp and ask, "May I request you never toss me over the railing then? I don't do well with heights..." This had both Nai and Adelha burst out laughing for Nai to motion that the three of them return to the throne room. His words filled with amusement. "Enough of that. I want my turn to dance with Adelha before the meal is served proper."

#Prince!Vash AU verse #A Fateful Dance #Trigun fanfiction #trigun fanfiction

2 notes · View notes

eyeslikewatercoolers · 1 year

Text

Through the Parking Lot- Jasya

Jasya one-shot, in which Jasmine loses her vision in an accident, and adjusts to blindness with her supportive girlfriend, Daya. I was really contemplating posting this, as I wasn't sure if I wrote blindness and disability with the justice it deserves. I'm still learning and growing, so if anyone has any recommendations or ways to further educate me on these topics, PLEASE let me know <3

Read on ao3

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

The automatic sliding doors opened, bringing a rush of air into the vestibule of the hospital’s main entrance. The younger man in scrubs was behind the wheelchair that Jasmine was sitting in as she heard the ground below her change from the metal floor, to the concrete of the patient drop-off/pick-up area. She listened to the plastic bag of her spare clothes getting carried nearby and the jiggle of the keys to the pick-up truck that she would be riding back home in. Her hands felt over the smooth plastic of the folded-up red and white cane in her lap, with a soft, round tip at the end.

Jasmine had her vision ripped away from her ten days ago, and this was her first time feeling the sun warm her skin but not being able to see it for herself.

Ten days before, she was on a bus trip back from a dance competition with a group of young dancers and a few other teachers from the studio she taught at. The bus had a side collision with a tow truck, as the sun was setting on a day that was supposed to be celebratory, as her junior competition team won top awards.

The others on the bus only had minor injuries, and a few had broken bones. But after a cruel twist of fate, Jasmine had a grim reminder that scratches and broken bones can heal over time, but glass and metal in her eyes caused permanent damage.

She felt the wheelchair come to a gentle stop as the man behind her leaned over to lock the right wheel and then locked the left wheel. She kicked the footrests up and unfolded her cane to its long length. After a few days of practicing in the hospital hallways, Jasmine had just started getting used to navigating the world with her four other senses and a red-and-white cane.

Jasmine slowly stood up from the wheelchair, using the armrests to steady her balance. The doctor and nurses warned her that vertigo was a common issue in other blind people. She realized a few days before how quickly vertigo can rear its ugly head when she stood up from her hospital bed and felt she was about to collapse on the floor before her girlfriend caught her.

“Are you sure you don’t want me to bring the truck around? I can run and pull it up to you, that’s okay if you want me to.” She heard her girlfriend quickly stand next to her, holding her hand with her free hand. She heard the wheelchair get unlocked and pulled back into the building.

“It’s alright, Daya. I want to do this.” She looked up to where Daya faced her and gave a reassuring nod. “I have my cane and I have you to guide me, I trust you.”

She felt Daya press her warm lips to her temple and smiled at the gesture. “Okay, let’s get you home then.”

Daya has hardly left her side in the past ten days, spending most of her time in the uncomfortable visitor chair next to Jasmine’s bedside. When Jasmine woke up in an unfamiliar place and slowly realized that her vision was gone, she felt a hand gently hold her own, resting on her left side. She felt the metal rings on the hand and carefully grazed her fingers over the chipped nail polish. She heard Daya softly sleeping in the chair next to her and instantly felt comforted in her girlfriend staying with her, for who knew how long.

Jasmine was pulled from her thoughts when Daya squeezed her hand “Just like we practiced in the hospital, okay?”

Jasmine gave a slow nod “Okay, I’m ready.” She followed Daya’s lead further down the sidewalk a few more steps, sweeping her cane in front of her. She listened to the cane running over the sidewalk, remembering what the orientation and mobility coaches taught her what to listen for. She practiced so much in the hospital’s therapy gym when the staff put together an obstacle course to practice walking through. But that was indoors, and she had others there to ensure she got through it safely. Walking through this parking lot was her biggest challenge yet, and she knew the risks of what could happen, since there were moving cars, and other people outside. Jasmine trusted Daya with this helping guide her in a simple yet terrifying task, she has crossed plenty of parking lots before but never blind.

Her cane reached a new part of the sidewalk, Jasmine felt the cane give a little more bounce. Jasmine felt the sidewalk dip lower and felt the bumpier patch as the pavement reached the asphalt. Daya stood still as she looked both ways of the street for incoming traffic, and Jasmine tried to listen for the sounds of vehicles. If there were any cars, they were too far away for Jasmine to hear. “It’s safe for us to cross, right? I don’t hear anything.” Jasmine looked towards Daya, asking for confirmation.

“Yeah, we’re good. I don’t see anything.” They stepped off the sidewalk, hand-in-hand, and began to walk over the painted pedestrian crosswalk. This was the part of the parking lot that Jasmine was most nervous about when any car could cross too early or too late, or not even see her cane. She tightened her grip on Daya’s hand and felt her girlfriend give a reassuring squeeze back. She was in safe hands right now, Daya wouldn’t let her get hurt.

After about twenty steps, Jasmine felt they were starting to reach the end of the crosswalk. Her cane reached the familiar bump patched on the other side, and she heard a vehicle quickly zoom behind her, feeling the wind from the speed move her hair.

She quickly stepped onto the sidewalk for safety, as she heard Daya mutter next to her “Asshole couldn’t even wait until we were off the road.” She moved her hand to Jasmine's lower back as she turned to face her. “I didn’t even see that car, I think that guy was going at least 30. Are you okay?”

Jasmine nodded again as Daya moved her hand to hold Jasmine’s again “I’m fine, I think it just made me jump.” She re-gripped her cane and pointed it in front of her. “Let’s keep going.”

She and Daya walked in between the vehicles in the row Daya’s old pickup truck was parked in. They didn’t use the car often, since they lived in a walkable city, and both their workplaces were within walking distance from their apartment. Daya had her pickup since her last year of living in Missouri, sentimental from when her sister helped her buy it and fix it for her to drive. Jasmine grew to love it too, as they used it on trips to see her family in West Virginia and camping trips with their friends in the summer.

Jasmine heard the sound of little feet running in front of her, and multiple children’s voices getting louder. She felt a movement against her cane and heard a small thud hit the sidewalk. She immediately stopped and held her cane closer to her. Before she could ask the child if they were okay, she heard a shrill woman’s voice come closer.

“Hey! Can you not try to trip my kid? Watch out next time where you swing that thing.” The woman rudely pointed out. The child easily stood back up and went back to the mother.

“I’m sorry, I didn’t see them. I’m still getting used to this.” Jasmine quickly explained as she gestured to her cane. She felt Daya put a protective arm around her waist, and Jasmine had a feeling that Daya wanted to scream at this woman.

The woman paused, as Jasmine assumed that the woman was eyeing her down. “You don’t look blind to me. You should consider being more careful next time.” She heard the woman start walking past her, pushing against her shoulder. She felt Daya turn to speak to the woman, and Jasmine put a hand on her upper arm to stop her.

“She’s not worth it, Daya.” she looked toward her. Jasmine took a deep breath, settling her nerves. Her chest tightened, and let out a deep exhale. She was not going to cry over this. “Can we just get to the car, please?”

Daya grudgingly agreed, and they rejoined their hands together. They continued walking together until they reached the car. Jasmine reached out and felt the cooled hood of the truck, and walked along to the passenger side door. Her hands guided her along, following the advice from the mobility coach in the hospital of using her hands as her eyes. She felt the door handle and stepped back to open the door. She expected Daya to leave to the other side to throw her belongings in the back of the truck’s cab. But Daya never left, staying close behind to ensure Jasmine got into the truck safely. She folded her cane and used the handlebar above to guide herself to the seat. She felt around for the seatbelt, as Daya guided her hand to the buckle and inserted it to buckle herself in.

She heard to door shut, and a few moments later, she heard Daya open her door and start the ignition. After the click of the driver’s seatbelt, Daya leaned over and kissed Jasmine on the cheek. The one positive of being blind that Jasmine had come to realize was that her girlfriend got to surprise her with affection. “Ready to go home? Willow said that your cats have been going stir-crazy without you.”

Jasmine gave a small smile, unsure of what her life is going to be like without vision, but she had her biggest supporter next to her.

“I’m ready, let’s go home.”

#jasya #rpdr fanfiction #my fics #my writing #one shots #angst #rpdr s14 #jasmine kennedie #daya betty

19 notes · View notes

delimeful · 2 years

Text

to know that song (and all its words) (5)

warnings: ptsd, mentions of past trauma/bad living conditions/dehumanization

When Virgil emerged from his cockpit after piloting for as long as he could manage, there were two Humans waiting for him.

He paused immediately, tempted to just turn around and pretend he wasn’t going to pass out at the helm within the hour.

Unfortunately, they would probably still be there no matter how long he hid away. The Humans seemed to need longer rest periods than him, but they also slept in shifts, and there was always at least one awake, often two.

(They rose right into alertness, too, proven by the one time Heartfelt had dropped a pan and the other two had thundered into the kitchen to check on him within moments. The noise had been like a stampede; Virgil had practically shoved himself as far into the cockpit as possible.)

“Hello!” Heartfelt said, baring their teeth for a moment before quickly covering the motion with their hand.

Before they could apologize, Noisy was already saying something in that garbled Human language, and then extending an arm, as though planning to sweep Virgil off his feet.

He hissed, automatically smacking the arm away with as much force as he could muster.

Of course, because the Human was built like a seaside cliff, it barely moved his arm an inch. Even so, Noisy recoiled dramatically as though he’d been hit with a stunner, inhaling sharply and throwing his head back, elbow over his face.

Virgil immediately scuttled a few steps back, hearts racing. He was already working himself into a near-panic about whatever severe cultural blunder he’d committed this time when he heard the muffled noise from Heartfelt.

Stuttering little hiccups, almost like the sounds Ampen made when stress-crying but… they felt amused? Oh. They were laughing, eyes crinkling up in the most recognizable expression Virgil had seen in cycles.

“I know Square told you not to touch me. I’ve told you not to touch me,” he grumbled at Noisy, mostly sure that he wasn’t about to be attacked. For Deathworlders with the bloodthirstiest reputation of all time, they’d been remarkably unconcerned with his blatant insubordination.

Thank the cresting tides for that. Bitching and moaning was the only thing getting him through things at this point. They could pry that coping mechanisms from his cold, dead hands.

(They probably would.)

“Mean!” Noisy bemoaned, and then continued in Human, presumably since he knew more words to complain about Virgil in his native tongue. Virgil ignored him, hopping down to the floor.

“See home?” Heartfelt asked hopefully, crouching a little the way they usually did when they spoke directly to him. If Remus or Janus or even Noisy had done the same, he probably would have been annoyed, but it was so transparently obvious that Heartfelt was trying to make themself smaller, ducking their head and folding their limbs inwards to avoid looming. They’d noticed the way he got nervous when they moved too fast or too close, and while it made Virgil uneasy to be read so easily, his upper heart wasn’t hard enough to snap at them for it.

“See home?” he echoed instead, and Heartfelt gestured to the hall and doors around them, eyes wide and radiating earnest excitement. “Oh. You... want a tour? From your hostage? Really?”

The two Humans blinked at him, completely uncomprehending. He flicked an antenna back in acceptance and gave in, mimicking the little wave that Square used to beckon the others as he turned down the hall.

He’d have much preferred to be the one following the Humans, but they were nearly as twitchy as him about leaving their backs exposed. It wasn’t like he could actually do anything to them, unarmed and nowhere near the size he’d need to be to reach their spines, but if there was one thing he understood, it was unreasonable anxieties.

Plus, he couldn’t exactly give a tour without leading.

The closest room was the one with one of the electrical mainframes, which he typically wouldn’t show to possible-hostiles, but it wasn’t like they were going to sabotage the only ship they currently had available to them. The door slid open, and he walked in, gesturing to the complex electronic systems on one wall and the backup datapads stacked carefully in a container hooked to the wall. The other side of the rather small room was full of miscellaneous junk that Remus occasionally tinkered with.

“Mainframe room,” he said. Neither of the Humans seemed to really grasp his meaning, so he climbed up to the upper half of the wall where the lighting array sat, flicking one of the switches and cutting power to the room. Their backup generator was sourced in this room (primarily so anyone coming to reset the lights wouldn’t have to work in the dark), and the dull emergency lights flickered on after only a moment’s delay.

Two pairs of eerie round eyes stared at him from the corner of the room, where Noisy was pressed against the wall and Heartfelt was standing in front of them like a shield. Along with moving so quickly it was as though they’d teleported, Heartfelt had also picked up a long piece of broken metal framing that had been sitting on top of one of the boxes. They were holding it defensively, but Virgil felt a thrill of fear anyhow.

“Sorry,” he told them, hurriedly flicking the main lights back on. “Just trying to show you. Everything okay?” Please don’t make them write ‘death by scrap metal’ on my eulreport.

Heartfelt lowered their impromptu weapon with an expression Virgil hadn’t learned yet. Relief, maybe? They weren’t close enough for him to check their aether, so he hoped he was right.

“No dark please,” Noisy said, in surprisingly coherent and well-articulated Common. “No dark please, yes?”

He was clutching Heartfelt’s free hand tightly. Virgil didn’t understand what that meant, exactly, but he had an idea.

“No more dark,” he confirmed. “Sorry. Didn’t mean to– Just showing. Won’t do it again, alright?”

For emphasis, he pointedly moved his hand away from the switches, using his lightweight antennae to gesture to them instead.

“These are for lights. The rest,” a gesture to the other switchboards, “are dangerous. Don’t touch them.” He tried to twist his head in a similar manner to the nonverbal cue for ‘negative’ he’d seen them use, and seemed to mimic it well enough for them to grasp.

The Humans nodded at him, which he was choosing to believe meant that they understood and accepted his suggestion, rather than that they were going to touch them at the earliest possible opportunity.

Once out of that room, they seemed to regain a little of their previous energy, bouncing back from whatever messed up trauma Virgil had inadvertently tripped over. They trailed him down the rounded hallway in a line like fledglings playing bughop. If someone had told him he’d ever play follow-the-queen with a couple of humans before this trip, he’d have laughed himself sick, and yet here he stood.

Really, sizewize, it was more like a bunch of grown adult Ampen playing bughop with a fledgling in the front as the hive queen. Virgil hated being short, and the Humans being roughly the largest aliens he’d ever shared a ship with wasn’t helping.

Before he could get too far (or too caught up in his thoughts), there was a call from Noisy, an odd Human word that he seemed to use frequently to catch Virgil’s attention. Maybe the Human word for ‘Ampen’ or just a more general ‘alien’? He wasn’t gonna ask.

He turned to see what the issue was, and they’d fallen behind slightly, standing next to the door to a storage closet he’d passed. They were looking between it and him with blatant expectation, and Virgil let out a low trill of exasperation as he turned back to go show them an oh-so-interesting room full of labeled storage containers.

This was going to be a long tour.

The next few hours primarily consisted of the Humans taking him to a door, him opening it, and them eagerly awaiting some sort of explanation and/or charade on the room’s purpose. They seemed to have already explored a fair amount of the ship in the past few days– out of boredom or for strategic advantage, he didn’t know– so after a few rooms they’d quickly taken over leading the way to the doors they were the most interested in.

Turned out he could give a tour from the back of the group after all.

The most notable parts of the experience so far had been the plant-filled bio room, the mere sight of which had seemed to make both Humans visibly perk up despite the multitude of poisonous species that were cultivating inside, and the composite room, where Virgil had demonstrated their material printer by making a large blanket that was surely going to be whisked off to their strange little bedding-nest by the end of the day.

He’d been a bit leery about showing them the lab, but while neither Human had touched anything or even ventured very far into the room, they’d immediately devolved into a little chattered conversation that seemed more excited than upset.

His ship didn’t hide a whole lot of secrets. The only doors he’d refused to open were side-by-side, the respective living quarters that Janus and Remus stayed in when they were all traveling together. The Humans hadn’t been happy about his refusal, Noisy practically smothering him with the amount of suspicion he radiated, but they hadn’t tried to hurt him or otherwise force him. And when he opened the immediate next door to reveal his living quarters (just long enough for them to peek inside), they glanced back at the other two doors and the custom nameplates that matched his one more time before dropping the subject entirely.

By the time they reached the washroom, he was admittedly beginning to droop. His pilot shifts were already long enough to make most Ampens keel over unconscious on the job, only sustainable for him because of his hormonal disorder-induced insomnia. He didn’t have the energy for all this tomfoolery.

“Washroom,” he announced with a wide flourish. It was a bigger one, with spigots and water pressure along one wall, because when one lived with Remus, efficient showers were a must. Even if he only deigned to use them when he was covered in something that would have otherwise gotten on the furniture (and thus incurred Janus’s wrath).

The Humans were eyeing the wall of showers with strange expressions, so Virgil trekked over to crank one of the lower handles, skipping out of reach of the resulting spray with a short chirp of displeasure.

The wave of (excitement-happiness-joy) energy from the Humans was so intense that it nearly made Virgil trip, and when he looked up, they had bounded into the room after him, sticking hands under the spout with clear delight. They grabbed onto each other's shoulders and practically jumped in place together, their teeth bared in wide grins that would have been terrifying if Virgil couldn’t feel the pure elation they were projecting.

Heartfelt announced something in Human, and then promptly bolted out of the room, trailing wet footprints behind them. Noisy pressed wet hands to his face and then tilted his head back and made a loud, full-throated noise that resembled Heartfelt’s earlier amusement: more laughter.

Virgil made a low, questioning whistle, an Ampen indicator of curiosity. He’d really like to know why a fairly normal washroom had apparently driven his Humans to hysterics.

Noisy’s laughter slowly died down, but his chest kept hitching oddly for a moment more before he turned to Virgil, wiping his face a few more times. The edges of his aether felt like they were collapsing in on themselves, the intense emotion being folded away.

“Okay,” he reassured Virgil, “it is okay, it is good!” He followed this up with a string of Human words that Virgil didn’t grasp at all, but his tone and body remained loose and relaxed.

A few moments later, Heartfelt was back, towing Square by the arm in a display that squashed most of Virgil’s theories on leadership rules for Humans. Square appeared vaguely harried, but once they were dragged into the room, their attention caught on the shower just as solidly as the others’ had.

Heartfelt released them and hurried over to the still-running shower with exuberant gestures and the most words Virgil had ever heard them speak, even if he couldn’t understand any. Noisy was right there with them, jumping in every other sentence with his own excited jabbering. Square mostly just nodded along, the edges of their mouth curling up into an expression Virgil hadn’t seen as his aether turned distinctly fond.

“Hey,” Virgil interjected, and felt a bizarre little spark of guilt at the way Square jerked slightly, their walls coming back up the moment they spotted Virgil in the room. “Can you tell me what in the stars is going on here?”

Their shoulders stiffened up and their chin lifted slightly, a defensive tinge leaking into their aether. “Our previous ship was not… built for life, and even before that… It has been a much… a long time since we have access to,” he gestured to the washroom as a whole, “this.”

“Oh,” Virgil said, feeling like a complete prick. “... There’s recycling filters set below the drain so you guys don’t have to worry about running out of water. Use it as long as you like.”

He resisted the urge to clench his fists in a reflexive cringe at his own gall. As though they needed permission from him. He was their hostage, not their host!

But Square only watched him for a moment longer, as though waiting for some other response, before dipping their head shallowly and allowing themself to be pulled over to where Noisy was fiddling with the temperature and pressure settings.

Virgil might have been imagining it, but the next time they glanced over to check on him, he thought they seemed a little more relaxed. A little less wary.

A little more hopeful.

#sanders sides #sanders sides fic #humans are deathworlders #ts virgil #ts roman #ts patton #ts logan #tktsaaiw #ampen virgil #to know that song and all its words #my writing #writing #uaaahhghhhhghhhh

241 notes · View notes

aslitheryprinx · 3 years

Text

After months!!! The next part to Shipwrecked is finally finished!!!

Part one is here if you missed it! Part three is out now too!

NSFW do not interact with this post.

CW: panic, sfw vore, unintentional fearplay, implied minor death

-----

No Choice

-----

Philza had always loved storms.

He loved the muffled sound of the rain hitting the surface of the ocean, and the louder sound if he poked his head above the waves. He loved watching lightning crackle across the cloudy sky and the feeling of wind whipping against his skin and scales. He loved the way the waves danced wildly, powerful and free, strong enough to briefly sweep him away if he was careless.

The only thing he didn't like about storms was the tragedy they sometimes brought.

Phil only occasionally saw unfamiliar human ships. They would sometimes pass over close to the territory he lived in. He never got close enough for the humans to see him, of course, he didn't want to cause a panic. But he liked to watch them drift by.

It was far rarer to see a ship during a storm.

He wasn't expecting to see a ship during this storm. It was a pretty powerful one, and usually humans were able to stay away from those. He'd been heading to the surface to feel the wind when he saw it.

There was a dark shape, a few hundred feet away from him. He paused, trying to make out what it was. When he did, his heart sank, almost as fast as the vessel was.

He swam closer, and there was a clench in his gut as he saw tiny shapes being dragged down by the weight of the ship. He looked away. It was deep enough that any humans that had been pulled this far down would no longer be alive.

Phil swam up towards the surface. It was possible there were still survivors, but he had to get there quickly if he wanted to help. The storm had already been going for hours, and was now in its final stages. If he was honest, he didn't actually expect to find anyone up there. He'd look anyways.

It took him several minutes to get all the way up to the surface. As he breached the water, he glanced around. He winced. There were no lifeboats in sight. He'd be shocked if anyone had managed to ride out the storm with just the wreckage of the ship to keep afloat with. He let out a silent sigh. He glanced around once more-

Splash.

His eyes shot towards the source of the sound. Just behind a larger piece of the wreck, there were ripples. He thought he saw something moving below the surface.

Phil automatically called out, before realizing that if it was a human, they wouldn't understand. The hum of greeting died in his throat, and he slipped under the water.

The human instantly turned to look at him, blue eyes going wide with fear. Phil tilted his head. It was hard to tell human ages. They were all so tiny, it was hard not to think of an infant mer. But Phil had a little more experience with humans than most mers.

This human wasn't a baby; despite being tinier than most mer kids, he still wasn't small enough to be a human baby. But he wasn't an adult either. At least Phil was pretty sure he wasn't. At a guess, he was a few years younger than Niki, who was just barely an adult.

Not even a second after he met eyes with the young human, there was a flurry of movement. The kid was scrambling back, trying to swim away. He was frantic, and seemed to be struggling.

Phil hesitated for a split second. The human was terrified of him, that much was obvious. Still, he reached out, scooping the little one out of the water. The human froze as he was lifted up. Phil hoped he wasn't traumatizing the kid too much.

Something pulled at the human, and Phil stopped in confusion. Then he spotted the rope tied around the kid's waist, leading to a piece of driftwood still in the water. He picked it up as well, lifting the human a little closer to his face.

The mer brushed a finger against the human's side, trying to see the rope better. He felt a shudder go through the small kid's frame and winced.

"Sorry, mate. I'm just taking a look at the rope, no need to worry," he apologized. There was no way the human would understand him, but he hoped keeping his tone calm and gentle would help. With the way the human snapped his head upwards, staring at Phil with a terror filled expression, he guessed it wasn't making much of a difference.

"Let's see if we can get this off, ok?" He asked. He doubted the human wanted what looked like a lifeline to be removed, but it would be much easier if the rope wasn't in the way.

He crushed the piece of wood in his hand, and it slipped out of the rope. He let it fall into the ocean. The human flinched at the noise, and Phil's earfins twitched in sympathy.

Each time the human flinched or looked at him with frightened eyes, he felt a fresh wave of guilt. Logically, he knew there was nothing else he could do. The wreck had happened at least several days swim from the nearest shore. If he left the kid here on his own, it was very unlikely he would survive. He needed Phil's help, even if Phil scared him.

The mer gently tilted his hand. It would be better to hold the human in his left hand so he could work at the rope with his right. He tried to be careful not to move too quickly. But moving from one hand to the other still managed to panic the kid, and he watched with concern as the human shook in his hand.

Suddenly, the kid turned and began shouting at him. Phil's fins twitched with surprise, and he tilted his head slightly. He recognized the language as English, although he still couldn't speak it. There was anger in the human's voice, but he still looked up at Phil with fear and he scrubbed at his teary eyes.

Still, despite his obvious fear, he kept yelling at Phil. The mer recognized a couple of the words as curses, so the kid was likely not holding back. Phil desperately wished he'd taken up Niki's offer to learn English. If he could just explain to the kid that he wasn't going to hurt him...

He let the kid finish his rant before he started to get rid of the rope. As he reached toward the human, all of his bravado seemed to fade, and he scurried backwards. The human was stopped when he ran into Phil's fingers, and his eyes closed. Phil could hear his shaky wheezing, and his heart clenched.

He carefully sliced through the rope. The human flinched, and Phil was terrified for a moment that he'd accidentally scratched the kid. But when he saw no tear in the tiny human's clothes, he relaxed.

He frowned slightly as he noticed other injuries on the young human. Bruises littered his arms, and there were a couple of particularly nasty ones on his face. It might've been from the storm… or even from the other humans. Regardless, it worried him, and he tried to check for any other injuries.

It was hard to tell if the kid was in pain when Phil knew he would flinch at even a painless touch. He was mostly checking for blood or obvious swelling, as anything more subtle he wouldn't be able to catch. It would probably be better if he just let Niki take a look once he brought the kid home.

Phil sighed. He'd been putting this off as much as he could. He'd known he'd have to take the human home with him from the moment he saw him. Even if he hadn't been hurt, Phil had to at least tell his family before leaving for a week or more to take the human to a shore. It would be better to just take him home and have Wil, or preferably Niki explain.

That wasn't the problem. The problem was how much Phil was about to scare his new human charge. There was a very easy way to carry humans underwater. It was perfectly safe for mers to swallow humans and place them in their nesting pouch, where they often carried baby mers who hadn't developed gills yet.

It had taken Niki a long time to explain to him and the other mers that humans didn't have nesting pouches and the concept was completely alien to them. Their first instinct when being placed in a mouth was not "I'm safe now," it was "OH GOD, I'm going to die!"

He didn't want to swallow a human that thought he was eating him instead of protecting him. But they were hundreds of miles from the nearest shore, and Phil couldn't just leave him floating in the wreckage of the ship.

Phil would have to swallow the kid, even if it scared him. There simply wasn't another way to take the human with him. He braced himself for what would likely be a very unpleasant experience for both of them… mostly for the human.

"Alright… you're really not gonna like this, mate," he told the trembling human. Sure enough, the kid really didn't.

The human started to struggle before Phil had even finished opening his mouth. He had to catch the poor thing before he threw himself off Phil's hand in his fear.

He instinctively tried to soothe the human's panic, making a soft crooning sound that he remembered a second later didn't really translate to English. He wasn't going to be able to calm the kid down.

Phil grimaced and lifted the kid up, guessing that the less he drew it out, the less time the human would have to panic. He placed the human inside his mouth, and quickly closed it, blocking his teeth with his tongue so the kid didn't accidentally thrash around and get cut on them.

He didn't tease him, like he might have had it been an actual mer child in his mouth and not a terrified human. He pushed him to the back of his mouth as quickly and gently as he could manage with the human struggling against him. He looked up to make it a bit easier, then swallowed, almost gagging at the foreign texture of the human's clothing.

He was kicking and struggling, but it wasn't enough to hurt Phil. Wilbur had been far squirmier as a child, and he had never hurt Phil, even when he got big enough that the pouch was a tight squeeze.

But the human, while taller than Niki, was still smaller than even the smallest newly hatched merbaby. He fit easily into his nesting pouch. Phil felt him scrambling around in a panic before curling up. He could just barely feel the rapid fluttering of the human's heart.

Phil's stomach twisted as he heard the human's quiet but gut-wrenching sobs. He wished there was a way to calm the human, to reassure him that he was safe, but with the language barrier, there was nothing Phil could do on his own.

He'd just have to hope the human would at least figure out that he wasn't going to die while Phil swam back home to get Wil. Hopefully his son would be able to explain things to the frightened human. If he had brought Niki with him, that would be even better.

He swam as quickly as he could manage, but it would still take him almost an hour to get home. The human eventually stopped sobbing, but he was still curled up in a ball, and Phil could feel his too-quick pulse.

Part of Phil was relieved to have the human where he knew he was safe. The more instinctual part of him had trouble remembering that the human, while younger than Niki, was not a little kid. His instincts wanted to feel warm and fuzzy about having a kid curled up in his nesting pouch again.

But Phil's knowledge that the kid was terrified kept him from enjoying the warm weight. He just tried to get home faster, so he could let him out.

First ||| Next

#mcyt g/t #platonic vore #protective vore #g/t fearplay #tiny!tommy #giant!phil #shipwrecked au #vore tw #tw vore #dsmp g/t

203 notes · View notes

consistentsquash · 2 years

Text

4 Friday Recs !

New fics I read this week!

1. Wicked Hearts and Calculating Minds by @lumosatnight.

Genderbending fic with Albus Dumbledore/Tom Riddle. This is a serial killers AU. I really liked the concepts and the execution. Genderbending AUs aren’t really my thing. But this fic totally sold it. Lots of confidence in the writing and the plot. Really convincing and super fun to read. 10/10 Recommend. From The Untagged Fest 2022.

Vibe quote

Headmistress Dippet cleared her throat. “Perhaps you would like to see the new wards we’ve added. Professor Riddle will be happy to escort you.”

“Certainly,” Alana agreed, sweeping a hand to the side. “By all means, please lead the way.”

“It would be my pleasure,” said Riddle, glancing demurely through her lashes.

Looking into the swirling red, Alana felt the first pricklings of interest flutter in her chest.

2. I’ll take a quiet life by Anonymous

Snarry. From the Kill your darlings HP Main Character Death fest. 5000 words. I rec this because I really liked the unreliable narrator in the fic. Because of the fest’s concept definitely read the warnings. But this fic doesn’t really have an angsty ending. It’s definitely ending on a hopeful/softer note. So if you are normally an automatic swipe left on MCD fics definitely still recommend you check this one out. It’s a pretty unique execution!

Vibe quote

The dinner guests are gone and Severus is washing the dishes. He looks down and frowns to see his hands covered in soap and water. Since when does he wash the dishes the muggle way?

3. A Healthy Fantasy Life by pauraque

Star Trek TNG! Deanna Troi/The Goddess of Empathy. Absolutely brilliant and hot femslash fic. It looks at a lot of classic scifi type ethics questions about what exactly you shouldn’t do with AI. Also is nonstop hot.

Vibe quote

She'd never considered herself much of a programmer, but maybe it was time to design some holodeck fantasies of her own.

Yeah Deanna. We are right there with you <3

4. Soon the vine to elm by eldritcher

House of the Dragon!!

Caraxes the dragon has a lot to say. Who wants to read a dragon POV??? We are already so done with How to train your dragon and Eragon vibes! Actually this is nothing close.

Caraxes is a traumatized dragon whose rider died while the dragon got distracted eating goats. Cue major PTSD and not wanting to deal with another rider. Except he gets a rider. A rider who is totally into danger 24/7. This is a beautiful story about their bond and how they start trusting/helping/FIXING each other. Also angst. Lots of angst and healing. How this one packs everything into 3000 words is a mystery.

Vibe quote

They are wyrms of blood, ou and ou's boy, long scorned and spurned, and over the God's Eye as Syrax dances with ou, as a girl laughs and sings to Daemon, the odd and the malformed, too, are sought and sung to.

Hell yeah <3 I am a big fan of eldritcher’s neutral gender POVs for magical creatures!!!!! Time to read the Squid/Snape romance again <3 <3

#hp recs #rare recs #albus x tom #genderbending #snarry #kill your darlings fest #untagged fest #femslash #slash #gen #house of the dragon fic recs #star trek #the next generation #deanna troi #caraxes #daemon targaryen #recs #fic recs

13 notes · View notes

bubbleteaimagines · 4 years

Text

Back To You

Oikawa Tooru Oneshot

Summary: You’ve moved on. You found someone new so why, why do you keep coming back to him?

Paring: Oikawa Tooru x Fem!Reader

Warnings: Smut, Cheating! I do not condone actual cheating but this is fanfiction not real life, Unprotected Sex with mentions of breeding but remember to wrap it kids!

You could feel his stare piercing you even from across the court. White hot, curious with a streak of jealousy.

Of course.

That’s to be expected when you show up to your old boyfriend’s match with your new boyfriend. You tried to ignore his stare as you helped Ragnar – your boyfriend – stretch before the game.

“Babe? Can you pull the other now?” He asks you, smiling sweetly, and it makes you sick that you have to give it all your might to concentrate on him, not the brunette standing just on the other side of the court.

“Of course,” You mentally scold yourself for even letting him cross your mind, pushing down the feeling of your hammering heart and complying with Ragnar. “That hard enough baby?”

“I bet I could give it to you harder,” He smiled suddenly, and you feel yourself become flustered as you realize what he meant.

“Shut up!” You scold him lightly, giggling a little while shaking your head. “You’re such a perv, you know that?”

“Oh come on,” Ragnar whines, his bottom lip jutting out a little in a pout. “You promised that if I won this game then we’d...you know...”

“That was only if you won,” You reminded him, emphasizing only. “Which won’t happen if the star player gets put out for pulling a muscle. So focus.”

“Right, right,” Ragnar finally complied and you ignored the whispers as people slowly began to talk.

“Hey...isn’t that Oikawa’s ex girlfriend?” Someone whispered, causing you to tense up.

“Yeah, I wonder what she’s doing here.”

“Do you think she came to see him?”

“Nah, it looks like she moved on. With a player from the opposing team, no less!”

“Come on,” You gently tugged on Ragnar’s arm as your heart hammered in your chest. “Let’s go set you up, yeah?”

“Yeah,” Ragnar agreed and you tightly gripped his hand as he lead you deeper into his team’s territory. A few people that would be playing greeted you, but you hardly acknowledged them as you sat down on the bench and then heard him talking.

“Big crowd isn’t it?” Oikawa said nonchalantly, but you could hear something lingering in his voice.

“Yeah. Best not get too caught up in it,” You heard someone else respond. Iwaizumi, of course. He had been one of your closest friends when you and Oikawa were still dating, but after you broke up the two of you slowly drifted away.

You felt bad for cutting him off but you knew that he was Oikawa’s friend first and it’d be too awkward trying to share him.

You needed a clean break from Oikawa, so why, why were you straining so hard to hear him talk?

“Let’s go say hello to some of our opponents,” You then heard Oikawa suggest, causing you to freeze. Ragnar had long since walked away, so you were the only one that noticed the seemingly thunderous footsteps of the last two people you wanted to see.

You knew he was coming, you could feel his stare and desperately tried to move. You willed your body to pick itself up, but somehow you remained seated as suddenly his presence washed over you.

“Well, well,” You flinched at his voice, too close for comfort but still as beautiful and smooth as ever. You could tell he was smirking. “You guys seem pretty good from where we’re standing, I can tell this is gonna be a tough game.”

He was lying. You knew Oikawa and you knew that he’d wipe the floor with Ragnar’s team. This was Seijoh after all- they were the favorites for nationals.

“Uh, thanks?” Seeing as your boyfriend was team captain, he was the one that replied. You kept your eyes glued to him, and him only as you watched the interaction.

“No problem,” Oikawa smirked. “You know I’d even go so far to say I’m nervous,” He said, and you wanted to scream from how he was taunting your boyfriend. But you feared it’d be worse if you got involved.

“Well, we’re not called Tigers for no reason,” Ragnar chuckled. His gaze flashed to you and immediately you could see Oikawa scowling.

“Our playing styles seem to be a lot different,” Oikawa started, “So I wish you luck. But I think you’ll find that you and me- we’re not so different after all.”

For the first time since you had broken up with him, you and Oikawa made eye contact. He winked at you as your (E/C) eyes went wide, your mouth going dry. “Isn’t that right, Y/N?”

The way he purred your name should have been illegal. And you kicked yourself as your heart began to flutter, butterflies forming in your stomach.

Dammit! You tore your eyes away and looked anywhere but him.

God, you fucking hated him.

How did he manage to have this effect on you, months after you had seen each other? How he did still make you nervous? How did he still make your thighs clench together by saying your name just right, just like he used to do while he had you underneath him and whimpering from his touch?

You sucked in a breath and shook away the tears that threatened to surface. You felt so disgusting, sitting there with your body gravitating towards him and that bastard knew it.

“What’s that supposed to mean?” Ragnar frowned, suddenly becoming defensive as he noticed Oikawa looking straight at you. The brunette chuckled.

“Oh nothing,” He sighed like he hadn’t just called out his girlfriend directly. “Well, we better get going. The game should be starting soon. See you around.”

You averted your gaze as you fixated on Oikawa’s and Iwaizumi’s shoes. Their presence was so off-putting that you flinched again when Oikawa called out your name.

“Oh, and Y/N/N,” You hated the power he still had over you. Because as soon as he addressed you by that name, you looked up.

He smirked. “I’ll be seeing you soon,” He promised, something that he had been retreating over the many texts and DM’s he had sent you.

You gulped.

“Come on, leave her alone,” Iwaizumi gently tugged on Oikawa’s sleeve, dragging him away sending you a look of apology. You nodded in acceptance and then let out a breath when they were finally gone.

“Do you know him?” Ragnar immediately asked, watching Oikawa’s back with hard eyes.

You sighed. “Nope. I’ve never...I’ve never seen him in my life. I was just friends with the guy he was with.”

“Humph,” Ragnar hummed as soon as your phone pinged. Picking it up, you became frozen in shock at the message.

You looked beautiful today, my love. Too bad you were on his arm and not mine.

“Is everything alright?” Ragnar asked carefully, looking at your dejected face. “He didn’t spook you out or anything, did he?”

“N-No, It’s fine,” You stutter, quickly hiding your phone. “I’m fine. Don’t let it get to you- he’s probably just using me to get to you.”

If only he knew. It was much, much more than that.

Oikawa waited for Ragnar to leave and then he smirked when your gaze automatically flickered to his, like he knew it would. Winking, you almost lost it when his lips began to move and he mouthed ‘I love you,’ just when the whistle blew.

–

“YES!”

You grinned in happiness as your boyfriend and his teammates jumped around in victory, having beat Seijou by just a point.

You had to admit, you were on edge the entire game. Regretfully you had spent a good amount of time looking back and forth between your boyfriend and your ex, watching them battle it out.

Ragnar had been amazing out there but Oikawa...Oikawa had been absolutely phenomenal.

It was obvious he had improved in the time you were apart. His spike were still deadly and they were powerful enough to score 15 points. Halfway through the game, you had been sure Seijou would win the game.

But when it really mattered, little mistakes is what got them. So that’s why you were currently celebrating with your team, but didn’t really feel like a win.

Not for you.

“Y/N!” Ragnar snapped you out of your thoughts by pulling you into a sudden kiss, causing you to squeak. “We did it baby- I told you!”

“Yeah!” You were grateful he was too excited to hear your halfhearted reply, and too distracted to see your tight smile. “Congrats, baby. I knew you could do it.”

No you didn’t. Guilt pooled in your stomach as you remembered ranking Oikawa over your own boyfriend. You stomach twisted- how could you do that? How could you sit there that entire game waiting for Ragnar to fail if only you got to see Oikawa win?

You felt sick with yourself.

“Come on,” Ragnar gently tugged on your arm and smiled shyly. “Let’s all get back to the bus, yeah? I believe you have a promise to fufill,” He whispered that last part lowly, causing you to shiver and widen your eyes.

“Right,” You smiled tightly, pretending like your heart wasn’t about to pound out of your chest. “Let me just...let me check to see if we got everything. I’ll do a final sweep and meet you there.”

“Okay,” Ragnar grinned and leaned down to press a kiss on your cheek. Then, with all thirteen of his teammates he exited the building leaving you standing there, hollow.

“What are you doing?” You asked yourself, watching them walk away. “Why am I staying?”

It felt wrong to leave just now. It felt like you had something else to do. Someone else to see.

“Dammit,” You cursed as your feet began to go in the opposite direction, jogging lightly and prayed that they were still there.

It was just your luck that Seijou was on the opposite side of the building, and all of the buses were still there which meant there was a possibility he wouldn’t even be inside.

“Shit!”

You couldn’t believe you were being this stupid. Why were you running towards him, hoping to catch him before he left? Why did you care? Why had you never stopped caring?

“Y/N?” Iwaizumi’s surprised voice was difficult to hear over your heavy breathing, but you managed, raising your head to meet his eyes.

“Iwa-Chan,” You used his old nickname, setting yourself up straight. “I-”

“Why are you here?” He hadn’t meant it to sound rude, he was surprised that’s all. Hell, you were surprised yourself.

“I...” Why were you here?

Your eyes scanned the surroundings behind Iwaizumi. Fourteen players, but there were sixteen on the team. He followed your gaze, and his eyes softened when he noticed you looking.

“In the locker room,” He suddenly said, snapping your attention back to him.

You frowned. “W-What?”

“He’s in the locker room,” Iwaizumi repeated, knowing that’s who you were looking for. You felt your chest tighten.

“I-I wasn’t...”

“Bus leaves in 30 minutes. Don’t make him late, please,” Iwaizumi told you like it was nothing. You suddenly felt embarrassed. He had read you like an open book.

“T-Thank you,” You nodded in appreciation before turning in that direction. “Thank you, Iwaizumi. I-It was good to see you.”

He studied you for moment. It looked like he was about to say something, but then he just shook his head.

“You too, Y/N-Chan. Thank you for this,” Iwaizumi said. “He...he needs you right now.”

You felt like all the air disappeared from your lungs. Your heart pounded uncomfortably, while a tiny voice in your head told you ‘No. Don’t do this.’

“Okay,” You ignored the voice and got moving. Your feet walking in a direction you shouldn’t have been going. Your heart leading the way while your brain screamed profanities.

When you got to the locker room, you could already hear him pacing around. He was cursing, mumbling to himself about things you couldn’t hear until you got closer.

“O-Oikawa?” Your voice was hesitant, but you forced yourself to say something.

Immediately, his brown eyes snapped to you. Surprise- just like Iwaizumi- filled them, but no sooner than it appeared, it was gone.

“Y-Y/N-Chan?” He stuttered your name like he had never uttered it before. It made you even more nervous, but nevertheless your body pulled you in closer. “W-What are you doing here?”

“I-I came to see you,” You forced out, tearing your eyes away. It was too much. His gaze was too intense.

Oikawa scoffed. “After that? Shouldn’t you be with your boyfriend, celebrating?”

You didn’t like the way he said ‘your boyfriend.’ It felt wrong, coming from his lips. Like words that shouldn’t exist. You gulped.

“He’s on the bus,” You explained, still keeping your head down. “He...They’re waiting for me.”

“And what-” You could see his shoes getting closer, “Don’t tell me you came back for me,” He said in disbelief.

You sighed. “I wanted to see if you were okay,” You finally got the courage to look up and meet his eyes, and when you did you nearly melted.

Nothing had changed. He could still captivate you with one look- that damn look he was giving you now.

“Oh,” He sounded genuinely confused.

“Y-Yeah,” You stuttered slightly. “It’s just...I know how much you hate losing,” You mumbled quietly, embarrassed. “Especially if it’s to...”

“If it’s to him?” Oikawa finished, and you nodded, too embarrassed to say anything. “Well, you wouldn’t be wrong.”

You guys were so close now that you could begin to feel his body heat. Oikawa was always so warm, it was one of the things you love about him.

Wait a minute. Love?

“Hey,” He was bold and reached over to take your hand, causing electricity to flow through both of you. “Look at me.”

Even though it was softly spoken, you knew that it was a command. And, unable to resist him, you did.

You looked deep into his eyes and you could see every ounce of love he had for you. You could see the lust, the longing, but also the pain that still lingered months after you had parted ways.

“Tell me something,” Oikawa spoke again, letting out a breath. “Do you still love me?”

The question caught you off guard. You weren’t expecting him to jump right in, to dive head first after only just seeing you again.

But for Tooru- you knew he needed to know. You knew that your words would determine would what happen next, if the tension between you two would boil over or if it would simmer to a stop.

“I never stopped,” You confessed honestly, clenching your fists. “Everyday- everyday I’m not with you is like hell for me. I keep thinking back to it, that day you left. And I-”

Tears began to well in your eyes at the memory. All the screaming, the crying and the petty insults you had thrown at one another all seemed so...irrelevant now. Oikawa was staring at you with pure love, love that had never stopped for you. And now...now you began to wonder why either of you ever walked away.

“I’m sorry,” His fingers brushed the side of your face and you relished in his touch, immediately melting into him. “I’m sorry for everything- for what I said to you. For walking away...” Oikawa trailed off for a moment and then he resumed, his eyes squeezing shut. “...For letting someone else take you before I had the chance...before I could...”

“Hey,” Now it was his turn to melt into your touch. Oikawa leaned into you as you cupped his cheek, sighing almost painfully. He had waited too long to feel your touch again. “It’s okay. We both said a lot of things that day. I’m sorry too.”

“I still love you, you know,” Oikawa blurted out. He sounded embarrassed, but little did he know how much they effected you.

It was wrong, you knew that. To be holding your ex, comforting him while your boyfriend was waiting on you. It was wrong but...god it felt so right.

“I know,” You murmured quietly, pressing yourself into him. You could feel the hard outline of his muscles, a feeling that was familiar to you. Your body immediately flushed, subconsciously yearning for more.

“I broke your heart into two,” He said regretfully, his face contorting into pain.

“I know,” But still, you pressed your forehead to his. “But when it healed...it was still beating for you,” You confessed, Oikawa’s arm gently wrapping around your waist to pull you close.

“Y/N?”

“Hmm?”

“I love you,” He said breathlessly, and then before you could react his lips were on yours.

It was like...taking a deep breath after being underwater for so long. So refreshing, so vital to keep living that you had no choice but to surrender to it.

You were quick to lean into him, kissing back with as much passion and feriocity as you could. In that short amount of time, somehow your hands found his hair and Oikawa’s fingers began to find their way up your shirt.

“Can I...” He pulled away to tug on your shirt, looking at with you with absolute need.

“Yes,” You couldn’t get the word out fast enough, excitement running through your veins as Oikawa all but ripped it off. “God, yes.”

“So beautiful,” He muttered slightly, smiling when he saw you were wearing his favorite bra. “It’s like you were expecting this,” He said, but you only responded by leaning to kiss him again.

You couldn’t get enough, it had been so long, too long since his mouth had been on yours. Your body had been craving him for such a long time and now that you had him, you were eager to be as close as you could.

“Your turn,” You told him, pulling away to now tug on his shirt. “Off.”

“Yes ma’am,” Oikawa smirked at your request and immediately took it off, throwing it in some random corner. “Is this good?”

“Perfect,” You murmured lovingly, running your hands over his beautiful body.

Oikawa shivered underneath your touch, anticipation racing through his as you traced his abs.

“It’s been too long,” He said, you nodding in agreement. “It’s not enough, I need to-”

“I know,” You already knew what he wanted and you were eager to comply, stepping away to wiggle out of your jeans. Then, you snapped the bralette off which left you standing in only your cute pale panties.

“Mine,” Your back was against the lockers before you could even blink, a possessive glint in Oikawa’s eyes as he eyed your almost naked body.

“It’s always been yours,” You reminded him, before pulling him down in another kiss. This was one was messier, your desire for one another evident as your tongues danced with each other. Oikawa was pressing so hard against you that you could feel his hard on through his shorts, smirking when he moaned as you grinded against him.

“I need those off,” You ordered, your core beginning to trob at the anticipation. Oikawa was the same, wanting nothing more than to finally be inside of you again. He pulled down his shorts like it was nothing, and then he yanked at your panties, feeling them to be soaked.

“Someone’s excited,” He chuckled, and you moaned as he stoked over your clothed pussy.

“Off,” You whimpered, not being able to stand it anymore. It was unbearable- he was right there, so why wasn’t he buried inside of you?

“Yes ma’am,” Once again, he gave you what you wanted and then shed his boxers, his erection springing free. Your mouth watered at the sight of his pretty cock, standing all hard because of you.

“I’ve missed this,” You admitted as Oikawa pulled your panties down. “I need-”

“I got you,” He promised, finally sliding off the material and then pressing you against the lockers once more. He bent down to hook his arms underneath your thighs, automatically bringing your pussy to hover right over his tip.

He was beyond eager, something you’d never seen in Oikawa before. Usually, he could tease you for hours but this time was different.

“Do you want me to...you want me to prep you first?” He offered like a true gentleman, but you could tell it was killing him to not be inside of you already.

“N-No,” You declined as his cock rubbed over your wet folds. “Not today- next time-”

“Next time,” Oikawa promised, before capturing you into a kiss and slowly sinking himself in.

The stretch was beautiful, you couldn’t help but whimper as your pussy finally became full after months. And from Oikawa no less, it felt like a perfect fit as he gripped you tightly and buried himself to the hilt.

“Fuck,” His eyes nearly rolled to the back of his head at the sensation, your pussy sucking him in. There was something so gratifying, so beautiful about being inside of you again and being able to feel all of you.

It didn’t matter if you were still taking birth control or not. Oikawa was determined to cum inside of you, he was determined to fill you to the brink.

“Move,” You whimpered in his arms, the feeling of his cock pushing past your tight ring of muscles painful, but also reliving. This is what you wanted, you wanted this feeling of him. And you wanted him faster.

“O-Okay,” Oikawa gave you what you wanted and bucked his hips into you, moaning at how tight you felt. You always squeezed him just right, but it seemed like today your walls were determined to milk him dry. Not that he minded of course, but he had to squeeze his eyes shut and focus so that he wouldn’t fill you up right then and there.

“T-Tooru...” Your broken moans only encouraged him to go faster, lockers behind you shaking as he pounded you good. Thank god he was strong- he had no trouble holding you up as he drilled into you over and over again.

“God you’re so fucking tight,” Oikawa moaned and nuzzled himself into your neck, sucking on your sweet spot.

You knew he was going to mark you up, stake his claim to any man that came near you. That included Ragnar but you no longer cared, the feeling of him abusing your cervix washing out anything else.

“Oh god,” You gasped, snapping your eyes open as Oikawa angled his hips to hit just the right spot. That spot that made you go absolutely wild, crying out his name like a prayer as you held on for dear life.

“Oikawa!”

“That’s right baby,” He pulled away from your neck and grunted, looking straight into your eyes as he abused it over and over again. “Let them know who you’ve always belonged to- let them know that I’m the first and only man that’s ever touched this little pussy!”

“I-” You threw your head back as stars began to cloud your vision, “Y-You’re the only one, baby. It’s always you. It’ll always be you,” You cried out, a tear slipping down your face from sheer pleasure.

“I know,” Oikawa kissed your cheeks and then you could feel his thrusts getting sloppy- he was close.

As both of your orgasms came close he made sure to take one hand from under your thighs and then used his fingers to rub your clit. Once again, you marveled this mans strength because he managed to hold you up with one hand while simultaneously pleasuring you at the same time.

“B-Baby...” You could feel the knot in your stomach about to unravel, and you held onto Oikawa as euphoria washed over you. “I-I’m gonna-”

“Let it go, sweetheart,” Oikawa moaned as his own movement stiffened, and then you feel his warm cum paint your walls.

With one last cry, you clenched around him and let it go, yelling out his name so loud there was no way somebody couldn’t hear you, and Oikawa secretly wished it was Ragnar.

A feeling of smugness mixed in with the pleasure as he emptyed himself inside of you, knowing that nobody else had ever had you like this before.

You were full of him, of his cum, and his cock was the only that’s ever had the pleasure to breed you.

He filled your womb like it was nothing and once you both came down, you were a shaking and crying mess against him.

“I love you, Oikawa Tooru,” You mumbled against his lips as he kissed you messily.

“I love you too, Y/N L/N,” He said honestly, giving one last trust before pulling out of you.

Oikawa let go of your legs but he was there to quickly hold your trembling body, your legs unstable. You looked up at him with eyes filled with pure love and admiration and god, Oikawa thinks you’ve never looked prettier with tear stains on your cheeks and with your pussy leaking with his cum.

“Does this mean-” Ever the bold one, he dared to ask, “Does this mean you’re coming home with me?”

“Y-Yes,” You stuttered out slightly, your chest tightening at the prospect of leaving Ragnar but not because you loved him, but because you felt guilty. “What am I gonna...what am I gonna say?” You wondered, but Oikawa already had that planned.

“Leave that to me,” He promised, bending down to pick up your phone. You watched him hesitantly as he unlocked it, smirking when he realized you didn’t even have his picture on your home screen.

“What are you doing?” You asked slightly panicked as he opened up Snapchat.

“This,” You gasped as Oikawa was suddenly inside of you again, your pussy struggling to take him after what just happened. You didn’t even have to think as you held onto his biceps tightly, Oikawa beginning to thrust again.

“Think twice before you take something that’s mine,” You heard him growl, and then he was sliding out, sending the video straight to Ragnar.

“Did you just-”

“He needed to know his place,” Oikawa said casually, scooping you into his arms again. “He may have beat me today, but he lost the most incredible girl he could have ever had.”

“Did you seriously just do that?” You were still floored, struggling to wrap your brain around it. I mean you knew Oikawa was petty but this-?

“Did you expect anything else, my dove?” He chuckled.

You sighed. “Honestly...no. No I didn’t,” You found yourself grinning at him just as your phone pinged, blowing up with texts and snaps from Ragnar.

“Well, I guess that’s our cue,” Oikawa laughed, opening a snap and sending back a selfie. “Come on- you can delete all of his stuff on the bus.”

“You’re...you’re unbelievable,” You told him with wide-eyes, your phone pinging again.

“I know,” Oikawa smiles, “But I have you back either way.”

#oikawa imagine #oikawa tooru x reader #tooru oikawa x reader #oikawa smut #tooru oikawa #oikawa tōru #oikawa x reader #oikawa tooru #oikawa torū #haikyuu x reader #haikyuu!!#haikyuu oikawa #oikawa tooru smut #tooru oikawa smut #haikyuu smut #spicytea.txt

544 notes · View notes

bookishofalder · 3 years

Text

Night Changes [Five]

Series Masterlist

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

You just wished you could stop the dreams.

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

Earlier that morning

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

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

“Sweetheart, oh fuck, (y/n)!”

“FUCK!”

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

Earlier that morning

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

It was you.

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

—

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

—

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

It felt really good.

Fuck, what the fuck.

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

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

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

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

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

There was a familiarity in that darkness.

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

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

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

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

Oh fuck.

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

—

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

177 notes · View notes

tripleaxeldiaz · 4 years

Text

like it’s a little secret, like it’s all he has to give

for @letmetellyouaboutmyfeels <3

read on ao3

He didn’t mean for this to happen.

Well, no. He wanted it to happen, had been planning to make it happen with a lot more wooing and sweeping off of feet to get them to a perfect moment where he could tell Buck exactly how much he loves him and needs him in his life.

So he did want it to happen, of course. He just didn’t expect it to happen like it did — after a night out with the team, in the dim light of his living room, during a tipsy game of Truth or Dare like they were in high school again. Buck had said, “Dare”, and the three beers and two shots swimming in Eddie’s brain said, “I dare you to kiss me.”

And he did.

And one kiss turned into two, turned into making out on Eddie’s couch, turned into stumbling blindly toward the bedroom, turned into fingertips burning trails up backs, whispered confessions into necks, and muffled moans of yes and more and please and Eddie.

So it happened. It’s still happening.

That isn’t the problem.

The problem is that it happened six months ago and they still haven’t told anyone.

It’s not that they don’t trust their friends or that they aren’t serious about each other. In fact, they’re probably too serious about each other, about making this the thing that sticks. The morning after their first night together, they talked for hours about their past failed relationships and insecurities, laying every, ugly part out for each other to see.

“I just want to be enough,” Eddie said, throat as raw as his insides felt.

Buck’s hand slid up his back to scratch through his hair. “You’re more than enough for me. And I’d like to stick around and prove that to you, as long as you’ll let me.”

“Forever, ideally.”

“Forever it is.”

“I’m gonna fuck this up.”

Buck shrugged. “So will I. Maybe we give ourselves some time — fuck things up quietly before we let other people know?”

Eddie kissed Buck again, softly, soundly, relief surging through him because Buck gets it and wants to make this work and, this way, he feels like they may actually have a chance.

So that was that. Nothing really changed — Buck was still at the Diaz house more often than not, but now sleepovers meant Buck was in bed with Eddie instead of on the couch (except for the half hour before Chris woke up when Buck snuck out to the living room). They were still a dynamic duo on calls, they just also had each other after calls now too, especially bad ones. They were able to get to know each other as boyfriends instead of just best friends, figure out what they wanted and needed from a relationship, and smooth out the bumps they hit on their own, without any outside influence.

Now, they’re in a good spot. The best spot. And six months is a long time to keep quiet about something that makes Eddie so happy he could explode. But—

“They’re gonna be mad,” he says, head pillowed in Buck’s lap, absently picking at the label of his empty beer bottle. Buck hums, fingers combing through Eddie’s hair, the TV softly playing some reality show about a yacht crew.

“You don’t think they’ll be happy for us too?”

“They probably have a betting pool going on us. Then they’ll be mad and gloating.”

Buck’s hand stills on his head. “Eddie, if you don’t want to—”

Eddie scrambles up to sitting, taking both of Buck’s hands in his because he’s stopping that train of thought right now. “I do want to. I really do. I’m just—”

“Nervous?”

Eddie nods, absently placing a kiss inside Buck’s wrist as he gathers his thoughts. “I trust you. More than anything. And I trust us. I just don’t trust anything else, not yet. We’ve been in our own little world for a while, I just need to get used to that not being the case anymore.”

Buck’s quiet for a minute before he leans forward, kissing Eddie’s forehead. “I don’t really trust anything else either. I’m happy to wait and follow your lead. As long as you know you’re stuck with me.”

Eddie kisses him quickly before laying back down, Buck’s hand automatically threading into his hair again. “You’re stuck with me, too. Even when cute, injured bikers try to steal me away—”

He feels a sharp tug on his hair. “I knew you did that on purpose!”

Buck’s jealous streak is a mile wide, Eddie’s known that since the day they met. So what if he’s exploited it a little while they’ve been sneaking around? How could he have known for sure that a little extra flirting on a call would get him blown within an inch of his life in a storage closet as soon as they got back to the station? He’d surely expected it, but…

Whatever. Sue him. His boyfriend’s hot when he’s territorial, and he’s only a man.

~~~~~~~~~~

Eddie should have known the universe would start fucking with them almost immediately.

The team has never been shy about trying to set both of them up — there’s always a friend of a friend or a second cousin or a neighbor that would be perfect for, as Hen so lovingly puts it, “our hot and lonely coworkers”. It’s only gotten worse in the past month or so, when a team trivia night turned into a team-and-significant-others trivia night, “forcing” Buck and Eddie to pair up to even things out. Ever since, he’s been cornered almost every day by Hen and/or Chim, each with a handful of people that would love to take Eddie out to dinner, and he knows they do the same to Buck. He’s pretty sure they have a shared spreadsheet about it.

“Come on Eddie, Nick is great! He’s tall, he owns a gym, his dog is cute—”

“Chim,” Eddie cuts him off, pulling his head out of the fridge to face Chimney and Hen seated at the island. He could end it now, just tell them I don’t want to go out with your new personal trainer because I already have a boyfriend, but it’s the middle of shift and everyone is still lingering from lunch and...it’s too much right now. Over Chim’s shoulder, he can see Buck looking at him from the couch, probably thinking the same thing (because they do that a little too often). Buck just raises his eyebrows and shrugs, saying I’m following your lead. Eddie falls a little bit more in love with him.

He focuses back on Hen and Chim. “I appreciate you guys worrying about me in your own weird way, but I’m fine. Plus, I have a thing and Chris’ school Thursday night anyway.”

He does not have a thing at Chris’ school, and he feels bad using his kid like this, but drastic times call for drastic measures.

Hen holds up her hands as Chim deflates just a little. “Fine fine,” she says. “We know you’re busy.” She looks at Chim, and they have a quick conversation with their eyebrows before he gets up and slowly walks toward Buck.

“So, Buck, my dear pseudo brother-in-law. How’s your Thursday—”

Buck doesn’t even look up from his book. “No. Maddie and I are having a wine night, and we’re gonna talk shit about you the entire time.”

Chim squawks at that, and Eddie does a bad job of turning his laugh into a cough. It does get them to back off for the rest of the week, though Eddie resigns himself to this vicious cycle of theirs until he can finally shake the feeling that everything he and Buck have been building will dissolve through his fingertips as soon as they let anyone else in.

It’s vicious but predictable. Easy to follow, easy to get ahead of. It gives Eddie a little room to breathe while he sorts his head out.

Naturally, that’s when Abuela decides to get involved.

Eddie’s never been able to refuse her anything — that’s how he ended up at her house on his day off in the first place, fixing a broken dryer and tightening cabinets and anything else she happens to remember she needs while he’s here. He really doesn’t mind, and he’s happy to spend any time with her that he can, but she’s been...prying. All day. As casually as she can, but he can tell she’s fishing for something.

“Edmundo,” she says as they sit down for lunch. “You’re telling me you can’t even remember the last time you went on a date?”

Of course he can — he and Buck haven’t been able to go on many “normal” dates since they got together, but they did manage to coordinate a weekend in Ojai a few weeks back where all they did was eat, lounge by the pool, and have sex in their much-too-fancy-for-them hotel room.

That counts as a couple of dates, right?

He shrugs instead. “I’ve been busy. Between work and Chris, I’ve just got a lot on my plate. I don’t really have time for dating.” And I don’t think my boyfriend would be too happy about it, he thinks.

“Of course,” she says. She keeps eating like that’s the end of that, but he knows there’s something else. When she finishes, she pushes her plate aside and looks at him dead on, with that There’s no way you’re getting out of this look in her eyes. “You know, if you did want to get out there again, my friend Diana has a granddaughter around your age that just moved to LA and wants to meet some people.”

There it is.

“Abuela, I really don’t think—”

“It doesn’t have to be a date, it can just be dinner! The two of you getting to know each other. She’s sweet, she’s beautiful, and she’s a teacher, so she’s great with kids. At the very least, she could be a good friend.” She reaches across the table and grabs his hand in both of hers. “You work too hard, Edmundo. You deserve to do something nice for yourself, and that can be as easy as going out to a nice restaurant with a pretty girl for one night.”

He should tell her. He should tell her everything, even though Buck’s not here, even though he still has a stupid voice in his head telling him that as soon as their bubble pops, the likelihood of everything going belly up will skyrocket. He doesn’t want to lead this poor girl on, but Abuela is also looking at him all sad and hopeful, because she does want him to be happy, and—

“Fine. One dinner.”

Abuela cheers, actually cheers, and hugs him tightly before getting her phone. She calls Diana to set everything up themselves, rather than giving Eddie the girl’s — Chelsea’s — number. By the time he leaves, they’re set for 8pm next Friday at an Italian place downtown, and they each have a description of what the other will be wearing. “Like a real blind date,” Abuela says, and Eddie tries not to actually kick himself for falling into this trap.

He needs to get out of this. Abuela wouldn’t give him her number (“so your first meeting will be as magical as possible”), so he’ll just have to tell her right from the start on Friday. He feels bad, but hopefully she’s as nice as he’s been told and she takes it okay. And should he tell Buck? Probably, but is it even an issue if he’s not actually going through with the date? Buck’s working an overnight on Friday, so he won’t even be around when he’s supposed to be out. He could smooth it all over himself and then really sit down and get his shit together to figure out how they’re going to tell everyone, so no more fake dates happen ever again.

He’s got this. It’s not his best idea ever, but it’ll have to do. Everything will be totally fine.

~~~~~~~~~~

“Eds? You home?”

Shit.

Eddie scrambles to shut his bedroom door, tripping over himself in the process and landing flat on his back. That’s how Buck finds him, and his stomach drops as he watches Buck’s face switch between worry and confusion as he takes in Eddie’s button down and slacks.

“Uh, hey,” he says. Buck offers a hand to help him up. “Shouldn’t you be at work?”

“I’m on my way, just needed to grab my phone charger,” Buck says as he pulls Eddie up, checking him out again like he’s confirming that his brain isn’t playing tricks on him. “You’re awfully dressed up for your night off.”

Eddie sighs heavily through his nose. This is exactly what he was trying to avoid, and if he had left 10 minutes earlier like he meant to it would have been fine. But now Buck’s here, and he refuses to lie to him. He’s already been lying by omission enough this week.

“Abuela kinda set me up for dinner with her friend’s granddaughter,” he says quickly, panicking when Buck’s eyes go wide and his cheeks go pale. “But,” he moves closer, placing both hands firmly on Buck’s shoulders, taking it as a good sign that he doesn’t pull away, “I’m just going long enough to tell her that I’m very taken and this whole thing was a mistake. I promise, nothing was ever going to happen.” Buck does pull away then, and Eddie’s hands fall heavily back to his sides. “Buck, please—”

“I know,” he says quietly. “I know you wouldn’t do that to me. But Eds, I told you I’d follow your lead when it came to telling people about us, and if that meant fake dating other people that’s cool, I just wish you talked to me about it first. We’ve got to communicate and stuff, we’re on the same team here.”

“You’re right,” Eddie says. He slowly reaches for Buck’s hands, relieved again when he lets him. “I should have told you. It wasn’t supposed to be a big deal, and I didn’t want you to worry or think things were bad with us, because they’re not. But still. I’m sorry.” Buck doesn’t move, just stares at the floor. Eddie squeezes his hands. “Are we good?”

Buck finally looks up, and Eddie can’t get a read on his emotions like he usually can. But he squeezes his hands back and gives him a small smile that doesn’t quite reach his eyes. “We’re good. But I should get going.” He slips out of Eddie’s hands and out the front door without another word.

There was no yelling or accusations or anything bad, really, but Eddie still feels gutted, like every fear he had about messing up is starting to manifest like he knew they would. He should go after Buck, tell him how much he loves him, how much he trusts him, but he’s 20 minutes late now, and when he pictures Chelsea standing all by herself in a crowded restaurant looking for him, he feels a whole different wave of guilt crash inside him.

He’s going to fix this, all of this. He has to. And he’s got a 30 minute drive to think of a new plan.

~~~~~~~~~~

The drive ends up being closer to an hour, and all Eddie does is convince himself that the next time Buck sees him, he’s going to realize that Eddie’s not good enough for him and break up with him on the spot.

The restaurant is loud and crowded, lit mainly by the low candles placed on each table. Eddie’s eyes scan the room until he spots her at the bar — emerald dress and gold heels, just like Diana had told him. He slides into the empty seat next to her, awkwardly waving to get her attention. “Chelsea?”

She looks at him with a warm smile. “Edmundo, right?”

“Eddie’s fine.” He steals himself, figures ripping the band-aid right off is probably the best thing to do. “Look, I’m really sorry—”

“That’s not a great way to start a date.”

Guilt curls tighter in his stomach and up his arms. “This has been a huge misunderstanding. I’m kind of— I’m already in a relationship, and we haven’t told anyone, and my abuela was just trying to help, and she knows I can’t say no to her, and now everything is falling apart.” He feels even worse dumping all this on a woman he’s known for three minutes, but his brain seems to be doing its own thing at the moment, he’s just along for the ride.

She looks at him for a minute, before waving the bartender over. “Well, you’re here, and you sound like you’re about to lose your mind. Have one drink with me, and tell me everything.”

So he orders a Jack on the rocks and spills his guts — tells her about Buck, about why they kept everything under wraps, his plans to fix everything, how he’s so fucking scared that once everyone knows and their little fantasy world is gone, Buck will realize that he can do better, that he deserves better, and Eddie will have to put himself back together somehow. He’s not sure exactly how long he talks, but Chelsea listens intently to every word, and Eddie actually feels better when he’s done.

She finishes the last of her gin and tonic and looks him right in the eye. “I know we just met, but can I be real with you?”

Eddie nods as he knocks back his own drink.

“Your plans suck.”

He laughs and almost shoots whiskey out of his nose. “Yeah, I think I’m starting to figure that out too.”

“Look — you love your boyfriend, right?” she asks as she hands him a napkin.

“Of course. More than anything.”

“And he loves you.”

He thinks about the way Buck looks at him, no matter where they are, like he's the only person worth looking at. How it took a little while, but now he actually feels worthy of a gaze like that. “Yeah, he does.”

She shrugs. “Then it sounds like you have nothing to worry about. You have each other — everything and everyone else is just background noise.”

It’s such a simple thing, something Eddie’s known for months now, but hearing it come from someone else gives his mind that final shove that makes everything click into place and finally stick. They do have each other, he and Buck are a team, on and off the clock. That’s not going to change, if anything because they’re both too stubborn and in too deep to let it change.

“I know you’re already a teacher, but you should seriously consider becoming a therapist if you ever switch careers.”

“Believe me, this is nothing compared to the middle school problems I deal with on a daily basis.”

He shudders at the very idea of dealing with that many 13 year olds. “I don’t know if that’s a good thing or a bad thing, but thanks.” Slumping back in his chair, he scrubs a hand over his face. “I don’t even know how to start fixing this.”

Chelsea hums, face scrunched as she thinks. “You said he’s at work right? With all your friends too?” Eddie nods. “Sounds like as good a time as any to tell them. And remind Buck that you're with him one hundred percent.”

Eddie’s never been one for big, romantic gestures, but she’s right, and this is for Buck. He’ll do pretty much anything for Buck.

He stands, takes some cash out of his wallet for their drinks and places it on the bar. “Thank you Chelsea, seriously. This was...weird, and not a good first impression of me, but you’re a lifesaver.”

She smiles that warm smile again, and it feels real, no trace of pity or awkwardness. “No problem, I’m happy to help. Maybe we can get coffee sometime, as friends? I didn’t get a chance to dive into my own relationship woes.”

“Deal,” he says, laughing as he hands her his phone to actually get her number. They hug goodbye, and he all but sprints out the door and back to his truck, mind already racing trying to figure out what the hell he’s going to do once he gets to the firehouse.

If he’s honest, this “date” really couldn’t have gone any better. He hopes the rest of his night turns out just as positive, too.

~~~~~~~~~~

The team’s in between calls when Eddie finally arrives, which is great but also does not give him a lot of time to prepare himself for whatever comes next. Rationally, he knows everything will be fine — the team will be thrilled for them, Buck will be thrilled — but there’s still that nagging voice telling him that Chelsea was wrong and that everything’s going to blow up in his face.

He shoves that voice as far away as he can and walks into the station.

There’s no plan this time beyond “find Buck”, which he does pretty quickly once he gets up to the loft. Everyone else is up here too, it seems, but he sees Buck first, curled up on the couch and watching Hen and Chim play Super Smash Bros. He has that same blank look he had on his face when he left Eddie’s earlier, and Eddie hates it. But that’s exactly what he came here to fix.

Buck double takes when he notices him at the top of the stairs, slowly unfurling himself to stand. “What are you doing here?”

A thousand thoughts fly through his head, trying to coalesce into some sweeping romantic speech that would reassure Buck of all the things Eddie’s sure he’s doubting right now. But nothing feels right, nothing even begins to scratch the surface of what Eddie’s feeling, has been feeling for the past months. Everything is fleeting and empty, pale in comparison to the technicolor love he feels every time Buck so much as looks in his direction.

Words aren’t working, but Eddie really isn’t a man of words anyway — he is, however, and man of action.

“I’m communicating,” he says, taking three long strides across the loft to Buck, grabbing his face in both of his hands, and kissing him hard. He tastes like smoke and peppermint and something fundamentally Buck that Eddie’s addicted to, and he feels a smile against his lips as Buck kisses him back in earnest. He’s not sure if it’s been seconds or years when they finally pull away from each other, but they’re both breathless and Buck is glowing and Eddie doesn’t care about anything else.

“I love you,” he says, hands still on Buck’s cheeks. “And I’m sorry. I’m always on your team, as long as you’ll let me be there.”

Buck’s smile somehow gets even bigger. “Forever, ideally.”

Eddie’s laugh bubbles out of him as he leans back in, but stops when he hears a throat clearing somewhere to his right. He looks, and everyone — everyone, including people who were definitely downstairs when he got here — is staring at them with varying degrees of shock and excitement on their faces. Ripping the band-aid off works in his favor again.

“So,” Hen says slowly from the couch. “This is new.”

Eddie shrugs as he grabs Buck’s hand. “Not really. Unless six months old is new, I guess.”

“Six months old?”

“Closer to seven, actually,” Buck says.

There’s a clatter as Chim drops his controller and stands, arms up over his head. “That means I win!”

“Whoa, hold on, you do not—”

The loft erupts as everyone swarms Hen, talking technicalities and logistics of what was apparently a very elaborate betting pool. Buck hides his face in Eddie’s shoulder as he laughs.

“Do you think they’re actually happy for us?” Eddie asks. “Or mad that we screwed up their winnings?”

Buck looks up, resting his chin on Eddie’s shoulder. “Probably both. But I’m the real winner here.”

“And a huge cheeseball,” Eddie says.

“Better get used to it, because you’re not getting rid of me,” Buck says, winding his arms around Eddie’s waist and kissing him again.

“Forever, right?” Eddie asks as they break apart, foreheads resting together. All he sees are Buck’s eyes, sparkling blue in the light of the loft and so full of happiness — happiness because of Eddie — that he wants to drown in them.

“Yeah. Forever. No turning back now.”

Eddie likes the sound of that.

#buddie #buddie fic #evan buckley #eddie diaz #911 fic #911 fox #9-1-1 #happy season 4 everyone!!!#can't wait to see these idiots again in 7ish hours #ficcery

256 notes · View notes

yandere-sins · 4 years

Note

There is a serious lack of the yandere dragon shifter content! (Especially the bakugou dragon shifter if you can...) So is it possible to have a rich like this where the reader is a mage or magician in search of ingredients and meet a dragon who becomes infuriated with her (or them if you are more comfortable)

You shall get what you ask for, if you want she-pronouns so be it there’s no being more or less comfortable about pronouns. The only time I need some more directions is if you want a gender neutral darling do the dirty with the yan, then it helps to know what to expect down below, you get it? Otherwise, if you want to request a female darling then be proud and request that. Also I am mostly writing x reader anyway, and for that it doesn’t really matter most of the time. Enjoy your scenario!

»»———————— ♡ ————————««

You were no newbie to the forest. Ever since you were a child, you wandered the dark greens with your grandfather, and later on, with your teacher. Over all these years, you had grown into a respectable mage yourself, people came to your door for help, and you could summon the darkest threats there were; make them follow your instructions! But going into the forest on your own was a necessity, despite always presenting you with something unexpected.

The reason you had to go into the forest was simple: Your potions needed ingredients. Sure, you could have just magically made them appear in your laboratory, however, many did not know that ingredients that were made by magic had almost none of their substances needed for spells. It was easier to explain with self-grown plants in a garden; the one from the convenient market were good to eat, but those you harvested and collected yourself would always be better.

So you set out on your own. You didn’t have an apprentice in a while after the last one had an unfortunate accident with snake poison. Thus, it was on you to make sure your shelves were filled with everything you needed to make your potions and provide people with. To be honest, you found it quite pleasant to get out of your dark, filled-to-the-brim with junk and necessities home, scouting the thicket and breathing in the refreshing forest air.

Carefully you decided where to set your foot. You still remembered the few instances you accidentally ran into a fairy or almost got drowned by a mermaid while picking algae from the lake. Those things happened, but they were no pleasant occurrences, and you preferred to not run into them. However, with a calm mind, you wandered around, picking what you needed. Never more than you actually needed, making sure the forest would be able to reproduce it on their own. That was a law for magicians like you, and you were more than happy to follow it.

“Let’s see,” you mumbled as you brought up your notebook where you had written down the things needed for a very potent sleeping potion for one of your customers. You were almost done gathering everything, aside from one more flower which petals had a sweet smell, soothing even raging minds. As such, it most commonly grew in places where wild beasts lived, but much to your relief, this forest had long been abandoned by those, only leaving the occasional fairy or gnome behind.

There was no way you’d have a run-in with something worse like a werewolf or a dragon.

At least, you were quite sure of it until you managed to reach the clearing where the flower grew. You were so sure of it, you ignored the roaring snoring filling the air as you drew closer to the flower’s whereabouts, merrily humming a little song and focusing on your steps. That was, until you reached out for the flower, finally knowing how the earth around it... breathed.

You just stood there, not moving a muscle. There was no immediate sight of anything, but you knew it. You knew that beneath your feet, a monster laid, as big as the clearing itself, as dangerous as snake poison. The only ones possible of laying down in a field of flowers, resting for so long that their magical energy would make the flowers start growing around and on them, were dragons. Despite really not wanting this thought to be right, you knew that there was nothing in comparison.

For a mage like you were, it wasn’t anything to take on easily. Dragons were wild, untamable, and, most of the time, grumpy. The age, you assumed. They tended to be very territorial and get butt-hurt over every little thing... like you, picking one of their flowers. The worst, however, was that even if you retreated now if you were to be noticed, the dragon surely would hunt after you, and you’d lead it back to your little village.

So all that was left as an option was to retreat quietly and make sure you wouldn’t be noticed. For a moment, you got upset that you would have to find another, less convenient flower spot now or do the potion without it. For at least three years, no monster had closed in on that clearing, and yet, now that you needed the flower, you had run into such trouble retrieving it.

Backing away slowly, you walked a while backwards, eyeing the creature still hidden beneath the field of flowers. You were just about to spin around and make a dash for it, hide somewhere in the dark corners of the forest when your foot got caught ever so slightly. Nothing that made you lose your footing, but widened your eyes nonetheless, the shining silver of a claw revealing after you got stuck on it.

The next few moments happened fast, too fast for your human eyes. A flinch, then a growl, and suddenly, the earth broke loose as something erupted from beneath it, a tall, slim body, covered in scales and shining brilliantly in the sunlight.

For a moment, you were mesmerized by it, absolutely awestruck. Seeing a real dragon definitely was better than any portrait painter could put them on a canvas. You realized quickly that it wasn’t just wondering about the creature before you that kept you in place. More so, it was fear. Even when it’s snout came dangerously close to your face, you couldn’t turn and run away.

“Look at you, a smelly little human thief,” it snarked; the perks of being an intelligent creature was it’s ability to speak. “Did you think my flowers were free to take?”

“Where does it say those are yours? Can’t be helped if you sleep on them.” Perhaps, you should have tried a friendlier approach, but it wasn’t like this creature was full of manners either. Against your expectations, though, it only looked at you before suddenly erupting into deep, growling laughter. There was no way to discern if it was actually amused or if it was laughing to mock you, but you took your chance to turn and run, not waiting for a comeback.

“Where are you going?” you heard behind you as you reached the border of the clearing. That suddenly sweet and luring voice made something in you snap. Without thinking, you stopped to look back, the earth around the clearing still torn up, but instead of a dragon, a man stood at the clearing, arms wide open. “You got some nerves, fucking waking me to tell me the flowers aren’t mine and then run away without even taking any. Takes some guts. Here.”

Sweeping down, he picked up one of the few flowers that hadn’t been destroyed by his dragon form, holding it out to you. Aside from the way he spoke, everything suddenly was so tempting. You hadn’t noticed before that the dragon was a shifter, which automatically gave him natural sympathy from you as a human. Their dangerous skill that even a mage like you couldn’t deny.

They were terrible, and you knew it. Everyone told you about how bad shifters were, only ever turning into a human to do bad things. They naturally looked so much better than your average human, too beautiful, too perfect. Their voices were so lovely that they could lull you to sleep, and they emitted the feeling of security that many men and women sought after, making them perfect targets to be kidnapped and, in the worst case, bred or eaten.

But here you were, the little town mage who had never seen a shifter before. The flower in his hand was calling to you to take it back with you, and his voice lured you. Despite resisting, you did have the urge to throw yourself into his arms, like a good, willing target.

Instead, you kept eye contact, holding out your hand for the flower as you approached. His eyes were the only thing reminding you what a beast he was, wild and dangerous, fire burning in them like you could only see in dragons. Yes, you should have just left, but you felt like he actually... accepted your retort. As if it hadn’t been so bad to stand your ground, and that feeling made you confident. Confident that you could handle this situation.

When your finger finally reached around the stem of the flower, he let it go, and immediately, you felt something sharp and painful drill into your forearm. Shocked, you could watch long sharp claws catching a blood-red color as he dragged them down your arm, your body instinctively moving forward to stop the pain.

And that’s when he snapped for you, lifting you up from the ground as if your weight was a joke for him. Throwing you over his shoulder, you were confronted with the feeling of a strong arm pinning your legs to his chest. “Fuck, I hate humans like you. Always talking back, thinking they are in the right.” Giving your rear a rough slap, you yelped before trying to kick your legs unsuccessfully.

He began to move, his shoulder pushing into your stomach so harshly, you felt like throwing up. But before you could complain or say something, you had to watch as the ground before you slowly distanced itself from you, the peaks of the trees soon what came into view. Your still ‘okay’ arm, clutched desperately between the bleeding one and the shifter’s body, trying to find something to hold onto.

“What- Where! Let me down! How dare you!”

“Your really want to be let down now?” Pulling you forward, you landed on his hands under your arms, noticing how your legs struggled in the air without any halt. Finally, you could see his wings and slowly realized what was going on, gulping as you felt helpless in his grasp. “S-Stop this madness! Get me down on earth again!”

“No,” was his simple answer, your cheeks suddenly squishing against his chest as he tugged you in and wrapped you in his arms. Convenient to carry you, yet not helping your problem of feeling helpless. “Not until you learn how to properly behave, Human.”

“I’m not an ordinary human!” you complained, hearing a mocking, “Oh?” rumbling from his chest.

“I’m a mage--”

“And I am so scared. Mage’s are my favorite breakfast.”

A loud laugh erupted all around you, and this time you were sure he was mocking you. “How dare you, you are so rude!” Pounding your hands against his chest, he only laughed more. “That’s it, bare your teeth, little Mage. I love it when my food resists.”

That’s bad, you thought. That’s really, really bad. Magic wouldn’t help against a magical being as he was, and you looked down, seeing the forest, and then your village pass by as he dragged you off. Not like there was anyone who could have helped you in this situation.

“What’s your name, Mage?” he asked, ten minutes into you struggling against him with his arms never tiring. “Why would you want to know?!” you hissed back, and he grunted in response.

“My mother taught me to know the name of the things I put in my mouth; the fuck you care?!” Stretching out your neck, you tried to see his face, but his expression was denied to your gaze by his chin. All you could see were his ears. They seemed unusually red, but you hadn’t looked at them before to compare if that wasn’t normal for a red dragon.

“Just so you know, but the person eating you am I. Katsuki Bakugou. You better speak your last prayers now, Human. And make them good.”

“Well, to say it in your words: Fuck you, Dragon!” Being defiant had helped before. Maybe it would do it again, you hoped.

This time, the rumble in his chest was short as he laughed, different from the ones before. “You’re gonna be my favorite to crush,” he announced, the grip around you tightening until you gasped in pain. Your struggles ceased as you passed out while he carried you off to the no-mans-land that was his home.

He hated to admit it, but the tactic of his friend of simply laying in a bed of flowers and waiting had really paid off, and he was more than overjoyed to have caught someone like you. Having you keep his lair warm would be more than he expected from his endeavor. Katsuki simply loved a bit of a feistiness in the humans he captured, ensuring that you’d give him a good time playing with you before the end of your little togetherness would draw near.

He would make sure to enjoy every second of it.

»»———————— ♡ ————————««

After-writing-comment: Well, this sounded better in my head than it turned out to be. Maybe I will rewrite it sometimes from his POV but we’ll see. It’s 2k words long so it would be a shame to just trash it, so I decided on posting it anyway. Sorry if it isn’t what you had in mind either anon!

414 notes · View notes