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theonewiththefanfics · 3 years

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Best Friends My Ass (one-shot)

Synopsis: Being in love with your best friend whom you’ve had since childhood can be tough. Being in love and being dumb can make it tougher. Meet the Reader and Harry. They’re the latter. And everyone’s fed up.

Pairing: Harry Styles x fem!Reader

Genre: fluff, maybe little bit of angst, tiny bit smutty, but not a lot

Warnings: swearing, two idiots pining for one another

Word count: 7524

Even when Harry was little, he’d known he’d have an odd path in life. Just because it was odd, didn’t mean it’d be bad, but it would make him absolutely stand out in the crowd. When Y/N was young she didn’t see herself having any extraordinary adventures. Sure, she’d travel and explore the world with its secrets, but she didn’t have any plans to draw the attention of the masses. That was until Harry’d come into her life. They were both young, still kids in that tender age where childhood crossed into teenage years, when they met. For Harry, it was like one of those scenes in the movies where the pretty girl walks into a room and a billion fans make her hair look like the wind is sweeping through it, and her eyes glisten like gemstones. Also known as the 'love at first sight' scene. For Y/N, it was hard to keep her breakfast down as she walked inside the classroom, twenty pairs of scrutinous eyes on her, trying to figure out if the new girl was a predator or prey. Luckily for Y/N, the biology teacher wasn’t a total witch and didn’t make her present herself to the class, and just pointed to the free seat next to a curly-haired boy. Luckily for Harry, that free seat was right next to him. With a sigh, she dropped her heavy backpack beside the chair, giving the boy a shy glance, and was surprised to see a genuine and large grin right back at her. It wasn’t the kind people gave when they had bad thoughts. It was the kind people gave when they were truly excited and wanted to give a good impression. Y/N’s chest grew warm at the thought she might actually make a friend that day. And she did. “I’m Harry.” He extended his hand for her to take, the grin never leaving his face. She gave him a big, relieved smile. “I’m Y/N.” Ever since then they were not only lab partners in classes they shared (which was biology, physics and math), but also in mischief. Together they managed to enrage Anne, annoy Gemma and absolutely horrify Y/M/N, and whenever one went down, the other made sure to go down as well. �� So when a few years down the line, Harry had told Y/N about his idea to audition for X-factor she wasn’t surprised one bit. “I mean, as long as you don’t trip and break your nose on stage, you’ll be fine.” For that, she received a slap on her arm from him. “I’m just saying!” Y/N defended herself. “You’re great at singing, Mrs Aberdeen certainly thinks so, you don’t have two complete left feet, and you’re alright to look at.” That for the first time since the decision and application had been submitted, made Harry smile. He loved how easily Y/N was able to lighten the mood, to take his thoughts away from the bad, and just erase them with her wit and smile.

“Besides.” She nudged his shoulder with hers and then intertwined their fingers. “I, Gem and our Mums will be right there for you. Won’t even blink until the end of the performance.” With how her insides trembled in excitement and fear for her best friend, it truly seemed to Y/N she hadn’t blinked at all on that fateful day. Her breath hitched when the judges were talking. She couldn’t even remember what they said, all of it turning into white noise. And then he got through, and Y/N screamed so much she was sure she’d blown out Anne’s eardrums, and had hugged Harry so tightly she was afraid she’d broken a rib. But with his victory also came a fear, because, for the first time in Y/N’s life, she was terrified as to where she’d stand in Harry’s. Since day one it’d been secure, but now, with the newfound fame of X-factor and who knows what kind of an amazing future, she didn’t know if he’d throw her to the curb, simply forget about the mundane friend from high school or maybe use her for something. But it wasn’t like that. Not one bit. After insane hours of rehearsals, Y/N was one of the three people he always called. It was her, his Mum and Gem. Always. And he loved to listen to her speaking of what was happening at school, how the lessons were, which teacher turned out to be hooking up with which. As much as Harry knew he was made for the extraordinary, he loved the ordinary Y/N brought in his life. She was his safe harbour. But what he never agreed with were her own thoughts she was meant for a simple life, so he took it upon himself to bring a little bit of eccentricity in hers, as he explained how he’d gotten united into a band with four other boys, now going by ‘One Direction’, and it was his mission to join his newfound friends with the most important friend he'd had. “This is Y/N,” Harry introduced her to the guys after one of their late-night practices, one where they weren’t being filmed. “If you do anything that even mildly upsets her, I’ll kill you in your sleep.” The slap against his arm made him let out an ‘Ow!’ while the rest of the boys laughed and welcomed her with open arms. In a weird way, Y/N became part of the band. She didn’t sing or play any instruments, but she was always around, gave her input on songs and setlists. That kind of closeness made all of the fears and doubts about losing a place in Harry’s life disappear. She was his personal hype-man while at the same time knocked him down a few pegs whenever the fame started to get to his head. She was there for his highs and lows, for the break-ups and break-off in the band, and watched as he ventured into a solo career as much as she could with school and all, but when summer break rolled around it was like Harry couldn't get rid of her even if he tried. Not that he wanted. Sharing the success and happiness with his best friend was one of the biggest rewards he could have. And Y/N would never admit it because it’d boost Harry’s already elephant-like ego, at least that’s what she said, but she kind of liked the attention she received because of him, especially because most of it was pleasant. Had she been terrified that being known as Harry Styles best friend would make people think she was just a gold-digger, seeking fame and leeching it off from him? Yes. And there were people like that. But ninety-five percent of what people said on her social media accounts was actually nice, some even said ‘thank you’ that there was a person like her in Harry’s life to keep things real, and most importantly – cared about him through it all. Harry also saw those comments; he loved to read about how people saw just how much Y/N cared, and it kind of stirred something in him. He didn’t know when exactly, but it was around the age of twenty-four for him and twenty-three for Y/N when he started looking at his friend in a different light. And it bloody terrified him. He didn’t know if she felt the same, and the thought of putting his heart on the line like that only for the possibility of it being crushed was the scariest thing ever. He did, however, have an inclination as to what incident had prompted them to surface. The feelings that were. It was a night after a party. Y/N was on winter break from her master’s at uni, which meant he used every opportunity to spend time with her. The hangover was real, I mean it’s what you got by mixing vodka, tequila and beer into an empty Sprite bottle and chugging it. Harry stumbled over sleeping bodies on his way to the kitchen in search for some leftover pizza he was sure he and Y/N in their drunkenness had ordered, as well as to make two cups of black coffee. He knew she hated the taste, but cold junk food and bitter coffee always did the trick with her. That was when he’d found her. Although he’d woken up in Y/N’s room, she hadn’t been next to him. Instead, as it turned out, she’d gone on a food search sometime before him and had passed out on the couch, a Cookie Monster onesie on her body, but most importantly his signature pearls around her neck. And one of her hands even rested against her collarbone, as if scared someone would take them away from her. That’d been the first time his heart had flipped in his chest at the sight of her, but most definitely not the last. He did however keep this change in his emotions to himself. He wasn’t really sure what it was, so it would be unfair to dump that on Y/N and have her figure it out for him because he didn’t know where she stood on her own, let alone do the work for him. Luckily, despite the tornado of feelings, their friendship didn’t falter, and when his Vogue cover came out, he was incredibly nervous for people to see it, but especially for those who mattered the most to him, like his Mum, sister and Y/N. Especially Y/N, for her opinion had become the most important one outside his blood relatives. After all, all his thoughts went to – if we dated, would she be as proud of me as she was of me as a friend? Her support meant the most because he was away in the middle of filming; he had no way of getting physical comfort, so all of the messages, calls, social media posts and FaceTimes was the world to him, especially when Y/N sent a picture of herself with three copies of the magazine, two beside her head as she laid on her bed and one clutched to her chest, which she also posted on Instagram with the caption ‘Can’t hug you for real right now, so this will have to do. When I do get to you @harrystyles, I’ll crush your ribs with my love. And that is a threat.’ Then the comments came in from the rest, and one stood out more than the others. Bring Back Manly Men. At first, he felt odd about it. It didn’t really bother him, but at the same time, it made him sad. He knew that he was seen as somewhat of a controversial figure, as he painted nails, wore frilly blouses and now full-on dresses, which were all typically categorized as feminine things, but he never understood why a nail colour or the shape of a shirt suddenly became exclusively for just one gender. Which is why he was so grateful to have Y/N in his life. “I mean, anatomically speaking, men should be wearing dresses and women trousers. It’s you who have all the dangly bits,” she said through a bite of food. “The Scots have been onto it since the beginning.” Harry threw his head back in a laugh, shifting an arm behind his head. “So I assume your favourite pic is the one in the kilt?” “Well, it did remind me of that awful punk phase I had back in school with all those safety pins, only in a more tasteful way, but no. My favourite one is you in that brown, grey off-shoulder jacket thing.” “Why?” Y/N wiggled her brows at him. “Shows enough of your cleavage but leaves enough for imagination.” “Of fucking course.” Harry snorted, shaking his head. “Objectifying much?” “What? I’m not going to deny that my best friend is a sexy beast.” He wouldn’t say it out loud, but when she called him her friend, it made his heart clench in a painful way. Harry had been trying to be a bit flirtier around her, but given his open nature as it was, Y/N hadn’t seemed to notice it, nor had she seemed to notice how he looked at her while she was frowning at her computer screen. Harry’d had relationships with some women who could be considered the most beautiful in the world, but if he’d had to say, in his opinion, who’d receive that title, it’d be Y/N. The way she snorted when she laughed too hard, the way small crow lines had already appeared next to her eyes from how much she smiled and the way her forehead creased when she was concentrating. It enthralled him to no end. He could read her life’s story on her face, how she’d lived and thought and experienced, unlike so many people he met who couldn’t move a muscle. Though the reason she was so concentrated in that moment was because thousands of people had tagged her in a tweet of a woman, she’d heard of for the first time in her life (because Harry had been trying to keep that one off her radar), and what she saw made all the blood boil in her body more than any other hate comment had. Without hesitation, Y/N atted her and tweeted “Bring back manly men. Please! Millions of people would let him raw them WHILE WEARING THE DRESS. I mean you tried, so I’ll give you the gold star you so desperately want, but that was pathetic.” At that same moment, a notification popped up on the screen of Harry’s phone. He only had notifications on for one person, and when he saw what was written, he gasped, looking at Y/N. “You did not just do that!” “What?” Y/N shrugged biting down on the chocolate bar she’d been savouring for the last half hour of their conversation. “I just said what everyone was thinking. Besides what the fuck does ‘bring back manly men’ even mean? Go chop some wood? Fight a bear in the Siberian woods? Have your ‘friends’ stab you to death at a political meeting?” “You’re a menace.” Y/N winked popping the last bit of the chocolate in her mouth. “Only to those who dare go for the people I love.” His heart fluttered at the last word, but all he could do was mask it with a large grin and shake of his head. For another hour they spent talking, Y/N kept hyping Harry up, tried to get as many plot details of the movie he was filming, while he avoided as many spoilers as possible and attempted to steer the conversation somewhere else, but when that happened, Y/N jumped onto his music, which he had told her all about. In fact, there wasn’t a music video made without her approval, and neither would his next one be. “You’ll fly out to see me film for ‘Treat People With Kindness’, right?” Y/N sighed, giving him a sad smile. She hated disappointing Harry. “I’d love to. But you know with everything going on, I don’t think I’ll be able to.” “Phoebe Waller-Bridge will be in it.” She gasped, in real excitement. “Well, why didn’t you say so from the start?!” “So that’s what this friendship has come to. I’m just your gateway to celebrities?” “Harry you’ve always been just my gateway to the people living in LaLa Land.” But she let out a small breath much like she’d done before. “I really do want to come, Harry. You know that; I miss you like crazy. But Phoebe or no Phoebe, I don’t think I can.” Harry bit his lip nodding, but he still needed to try one more time. “Is there anything I can say or do to get you here?” “Get me a private jet and a quarantine mansion?” “Deal.” “Woah! Wait!” Y/N pretty much jumped up from her position in bed. “That was a joke! Harry Edward Styles, I swear to God, if you try an –“ But with a giant grin, he just blew Y/N a kiss and ended the call. She was quite terrified if she was being honest, that Harry would do what she’d asked. He already had once. It'd been around Christmas time while she was still in First Year at uni, and she’d seen a glistening necklace at a jewellery store display. She hadn’t said anything, hadn’t even uttered a word, but just seeing the sparkle in Y/N’s eyes, was enough for Harry to make the decision and gift it for her. When the next day, around five AM her time, she got a call from Harry’s manager Jeff, she was ready to rip both of them a new one, an e-mail with a plane ticket popping up in her inbox. “I swear I’ll poison your drinks when I see you,” she’d grumbled, but couldn’t hide the excitement as she threw everything she could in the suitcase. “And no one will find your bodies, mark my words, Azoff.” He snorted. “Yeah, tell that to the FBI agent listening in on this call.” “Fuck. Gave myself away,” she said softly, giggling right after. “You know he’s stoked beyond belief.” Jeff piped up. “He literally jumped out of the bed this morning, and during the dance rehearsals he didn’t miss a step.” That made Y/N’s heart warm. “Well, you can tell him to curb it a bit. Otherwise, I’ll just stay at the fucking mansion – which, by the way, it was a joke, Jeff! I’m pissed enough he’s spending money on me as it is, let alone such a chunk on the plane, you didn't have to get me an actual mansion.” “You know, for you, he’d give away all of it.” “Yes, well, he might need it for his funeral, if he keeps spending it on me and on shit like this.” The man shook his head but didn’t say anything else. He wasn’t the only one trying to drop hints to Y/N that Harry felt something more, but he’d leave it to the man himself. He didn’t need to possibly ruin everything, and have her decide not to come. His client was nightmare enough without her around, because Harry was like day and night when Y/N finally arrived on set for ‘Treat People With Kindness’. To say he enveloped her in a hug would be an understatement as he didn’t let go of her for ten solid minutes, having grabbed her by the underside of the thighs and sat down on the ground just so he could prolong the feeling of being with Y/N. The fact that she’d actually gone for it and hadn’t scolded Harry too much for spending that insane amount of money, for having brought a small piece of home to LA with herself where they were filming, made him now fully acknowledge the true extent of his feelings, especially as she didn’t pull away from their embrace, rather hid her face in the crook of his neck. I mean, in the end, he did have to let her go because everyone had to get back to shooting, but not before Y/N had stripped the meticulous jacket from him, and went to have a glance at herself in the large mirror, one of the costume designers playing along and adjusting the clothing on her body, as if she was going to be the one performing. Harry felt someone slide up to him and he looked over to his left, a smiling Phoebe standing there. She nudged his shoulder with hers. “You’re in love with her, aren’t you?” He nodded, looking back over to where Y/N was still looking at herself in the mirror, wearing the heavy jacket as if it was nothing like it was made for her. “I’m a cliché, I know. But I can’t help it.” “Of course, you can.” She squeezed his side. “All you gotta do is tell her.” But it wasn’t that easy. Comparatively, getting Y/N to appear in the video was easier than coming to terms with the fact, all they’d ever remain would be friends if he didn’t do anything. Yet the shoot for the video ended as quickly as it had started, and Y/N needed to fly back to the UK to defend her PhD paper, and Harry had to go back to filming ‘Don’t Worry Darling’, thousands of miles stretching between them once more. And Harry was a romantic, he couldn’t confess over FaceTime. Besides, he wanted to make it a special evening for her, plan something out, rather than risk a shitty connection cutting him off mid-word. He hated it though. It’d been almost four years since Harry had realised his feelings had developed from just friendly into romantic, and still, he hadn’t said anything. Even the people who’d never met Y/N in person like Florence Pugh saw what was going on. But unlike the cast and crew of ‘Treat People With Kindness’ who had to deal with his pining for maybe a couple of weeks, it’d been almost half a year for her at that point. Did she just want to call Y/N and tell her how Harry felt? Sure. She’d had enough of him coming into her trailer only to fall down onto her pillow and whine. But it wasn’t her place. So instead, she was going to figure out a way to get Y/N to the set and make him tell her himself. Getting Harry’s phone away from him should’ve been the inspiration to the next ‘Mission Impossible’ script though, because it took her literally a whole day to fish it out from his coat's pocket, and she only had about ten seconds to find Y/N’s number (which wasn’t that hard given how it was the number with literally hundreds of calls next to it) and put it in her own phone. Once their filming was done for the day, Florence rebutted Harry’s invitation to a movie night, saying a massive headache was coming on, so he wished her a good night and with slumped shoulders went to sulk on his own. Which is why she practically sprinted to her own trailer to finally call Y/N An unsure ‘hello?’ greeted her ears before she responded. “Hey, this is Florence… Pugh.” That stunned Y/N into silence for a few seconds before she spluttered out a greeting and said ‘hi’ as well. “Not to be rude, but how did you get my number?” “Stole it from Harry’s phone. Look, he’s miserable. Keeps moping around, and I can’t take it anymore. Last night I found him crying in his pillow with your shirt over it.” “What? Why?” “Because it didn’t smell like you anymore.” Y/N’s heart broke. “Why didn’t he tell me anything? We just talked, and he said he was fine. God, that man is so dumb sometimes.” “Is there any way you could find a way to get here?” Florence asked biting down her lip. She heard Y/N sigh at the other end of the line. “I’ll – I’ll try and figure something out. Have to know what’s going on at work, I mean it has been like two months since the video, so maybe…” She was more so talking to herself, but then remembered about Florence. “Listen, can I give you a message when I find out if my boss will let me?” “Of course!” The actress was excited about the possibility of Y/N getting here, as long as it got Harry out of his depressive mood. “Oh, and I’ll need to know what kind of restrictions are on set. I’ll figure something out with flights and quarantine, but I have zero clue as to what’s it like where you’re filming.” Florence waved her off, even though she couldn’t see the motion. “Leave that to me. Just get your ass over here before the guy cries himself dry.” It was a struggle though on all three ends – Harry was still moping, because not only had Y/N’s shirt lost its smell of her, but homesickness was hitting full force, Florence was getting more and more desperate as she attempted to take his mind off of things, but nothing seemed to work, and Y/N was trying to get on any possible flight to Harry while arranging two tests and an AirBnB she could self-isolate in for two weeks while attempting to set up her work from afar at the same time. Two days after Florence’s call, Y/N sent her a message ‘Flying in tomorrow at 4 AM. Don’t tell Harry. He’ll feel even shittier cause I have to stay alone in quarantine. First test came back negative.” She sighed in relief at the message and immediately texted back ‘i’ve got you a set pass ready, just need a picture. selfie will do. also, masks are mandatory on the lot, so bring those.’ Immediately Y/N sent a thumbs up, and a picture of herself she didn’t absolutely despise to be used on the ID card. All that was left was to pack. And spend two weeks in an attempt of not going crazy with anticipation before seeing Harry. Those two weeks turned out to be worse than the two months between the music video shoot and going to the filming lot. Because throughout then, Y/N knew her only access to him would be through FaceTime, but to be about twenty minutes away from the man without the ability to touch him was pure torture, but at least Harry seemed completely oblivious to the change in her surroundings. As they still continued on with their calls, not once did he mention her background, or how the paintings suddenly had managed to switch positions or the fact that Y/N didn’t even own paintings. She was sure she could’ve been missing an arm, and he wouldn’t have mentioned it with how tired he looked. “Have you even slept, Har?” “Not really,” he groaned, getting more comfortable in his bed. “We’ve had a bunch of early shoots and then late nights, ‘cause we need to get the continuity for the scenes, and then the day’s full of Zoom calls, and well, I can’t not call you.” Y/N scoffed, scolding him. “You know damn well I won’t be offended if we sacrifice a couple of calls for you to get some proper sleep.” “I know, but I will.” Y/N sighed, knowing in a way it was her fault. She could tell him she no longer was hours of time zones away, but rather watched the same sunset and sunrise as him, but she also knew Harry, and he would be unable to stay away from her until her quarantine was over. She was quite happy she’d sat through the fourteen mandatory days, because when she got on set, even though Harry was usually good at keeping his composure during a scene, despite the mask, he’d recognise Y/N anywhere, and all of the lines flew out of his head. “Jack?” Florence’s hand came to cup Harry’s cheek, trying to bring him back on track. “You alright?” But he didn’t even care about improvising to get out of the flub as his lips were split apart by a grin, and he dashed away, a loud ‘CUT!’ ringing throughout the set, but Harry already had Y/N in his arms, spinning the girl around. “Best friends my ass,” Florence murmured as she went to the two. Harry was speechless, Y/N’s face in between his hands as he looked her up and down. “How are you here? What? Why?” “Thank Florence.” Y/N gave an attempt at motioning to the actress with her head. She set the whole thing up.” Harry’s head whipped to his scene partner. “You knew Y/N was here for two weeks and told me nothing?” “Your brain short-circuited when you saw her! You wouldn’t be of no use on set at all if I had.” Harry scoffed, throwing an arm over Y/N’s shoulder. “Come on, let’s get away from this meanie.” But as he walked away, he looked over his shoulder and mouthed a grateful ‘thank you’ to her. All Florence could hope for was that he’d get it together and confess, but it didn’t seem like he was in any sort of a rush. Y/N was set to be there for three weeks, but the thought of the woman leaving without knowing how Harry felt, leaving him in a sea of his own heartache, made her miserable, especially after a night they’d all spent together. Harry really wanted Y/N to get to know the people he worked with so he invited the ones closest to him for a movie night, during which he himself had been the first one to actually fall asleep, of course. For most of it, as ‘Westworld’ ran on in the background, he spent curled up in Y/N’s lap, his head resting against her chest with her fingers weaving through the shortened locks. She had to get used to the length, motion automatically wanting to go on longer than it was possible to. Soon enough, the soothing motions lulled her to sleep as well, their bodies leaning into one another and perfectly fitting together. As tired as Florence was of seeing Harry, a person who’d become her friend now pine for someone so hard, it was absolutely heart-melting to watch the two interact. Everyone could see Y/N had the same feelings as Harry did for her, only she hid them a bit better. A little, but not by a lot. No friends acted the way those two did around one another. Sure, people could be touchy, but not like that, not with such intimacy behind the motions. She felt like she was being a little creepy as she pulled out her phone to take a picture, but it was too cute not to. A loud noise from somewhere outside set made Y/N shoot up straight, and Florence held her breath as she clutched onto her phone, having swiped it accidentally into video mode and filming the whole thing. “No,” Harry whined, a hand reaching up for Y/N and grabbing at her elbow. “Come back. ‘S too early.” She just nodded, grumbling something unintelligible but possibly along the lines of ‘don’t make me throw hands’ before laying down and snuggling into Harry’s chest. Florence let out a large sigh of relief and decided to get some sleep as well before their annoying four AM alarm woke them up for set. This time it was the other way around, as Y/N whined for Harry to ‘come back and keep her warm’. Florence watched as Harry slipped out of Y/N’s grasp, but not before pressing a gentle kiss to her forehead and a whispered a promise to ‘see her when the Sun’s up’. The second the trailer door was closed, she slapped his shoulder, and Harry gasped in shock. “What'dya do that for?” “Stop that! Stop that stupid dance!” She stomped her foot on the ground. “I’m sick and tired of watching you watch her with that dumb longing expression on your face. I can’t take it anymore. Why do you think I went through all that trouble to get her here?” “I told you I would!” She sighed and pinched the bridge of her nose. “Look, I know it’s not my place or anything, but she does like you. A lot.” Harry threw her an uncertain gaze. “And how do you know?” “Because that woman spent two weeks in self-isolation just to see you! She’s gone through how many of those awful Covid tests just to go and visit you! She’s dropped everything for you, has supported you through so much, and never fails to boost you up.” “That’s what friends do.” “No.” Florence shook her head. “That kind of loyalty… that’s what people in love give. I haven’t talked to my best friend in like a month. What’s the longest you’ve gone without speaking to Y/N?” And with that question, she left Harry to ponder not only his feelings but the girl’s he was in love with as well. Because if he had to be honest, the reason he’d been dragging everything out, the reason he’d stayed pining for Y/N for years on end was that he tried to write everything she did off as something a childhood best friend would do. The truth was more terrifying than anything because once that came to light, it’d change everything, and Harry didn’t know if he was ready. He wanted it, desperately so if it meant Y/N becoming someone he could love freely and openly, but not if by the end of it, she'd disappear from his life, leaving a hole the size of his heart in his chest. His thoughts were cut short as someone knocked on the ‘Hair&Make-up’ door, and an assistant let in a pouting Y/N. Well, he couldn’t’ see the pout behind the mask, but he definitely knew it was there, making a smile come on his own face. She plopped down in an empty sofa and crossed her arms. “I was cold.” Harry snorted, wanting to shake his head, but didn't as to not ruin the hair stylist’s work. “You’re always cold.” “And you’re a living furnace.” “ ‘S that why you like cuddling? Leeching off my warmth?” The same assistant who’d let Y/N in handed her a cup of coffee, which she was ready to kiss the woman for, but opted for a ‘thank you’. “We’ve established I only use you to get to other celebs. What makes you think I wouldn’t use you for those sort of things.” For a moment, the trailer settled into silence, as Y/N enjoyed her morning coffee while the crew kept doing their own work. “It’s so weird,” Y/N piped up, eyes racking up and down Harry’s body. “Don’t even wanna really look at you like that.” He let out a mock gasp of hurt. “What d’ya mean? Am I suddenly repulsive to you?” “No!” she let out a laugh. “It’s just odd seeing you without the tattoos. They’re such a huge part of you, even the dumb ones. Can’t really imagine you any differently.” “Would you love me any differently without them?” The question was bold, even though he knew she did love him, he had to start making moves. “No,” Y/N shook her head. “I don’t think so. I believe I’d be a different person then as well, but I’d love you all the same. As long as you’d do the same with me.” Harry nodded looking down at his hands then back up at her, catching her eyes through the reflection in the mirror. “Don’t think there’s a dimension out there where I don’t love you.” “I mean that is a bold statement,” Y/N said, sipping on the remnants of her coffee. “What if I’m like a weird, cat-skinning psychopath in one dimension? Would you love me even then?” “Jesus Christ, Y/L/N, do you just normally come up with those gruesome scenarios or is it a hobby?” She wiggled her eyebrows, standing up and throwing away the paper cup. “There’s a reason I have a VPN and clean my search history. I’ll see you in your trailer?” “Yeah.” Harry nodded and smiled. “I’ll be there in thirty minutes.” The next half-hour he kept hyping himself up, about how he was actually going to do it, but Florence intercepted him right as he was turning down the way his trailer stood. “How are you gonna do it?” “I – “ Harry huffed and placed his hands on his hips. “In the beginning, I had like a whole romantic outing planned, but… I’ve dragged this on long enough, so I think I’ll just tell her.” “Okay, good.” Florence nodded and slapped his shoulder in approval. “And if I don’t hear that trailer rocking, I will throw you in a ditch.” Harry’s eyes widened at the statement, fully knowing she meant her words, but she was already half-way down the track, blond hair swishing behind her back. It was then or never. Slowly he opened his own trailer door as if it was Y/N’s place not his, but by the looks of how she’d sprawled out on his bed, she had made herself right at home. Just like she’d done it on the first day of school, but just with his heart. “Hey!” She smiled looking at him. “You ready to film?” “Yeah, but umm… I kind of wanted to talk to you beforehand.” Y/N’s brows furrowed at Harry’s serious tone, so she sat up, nodding. “Sure. Is everything alright?” “It’s nothing bad, at least I hope you won’t take it in a bad way... I’ve actually been wanting to tell you this since that winter’s break party you had while doing your masters...” He let out a small chuckle but seeing Y/N’s eyes widen in a panic he stopped. “Oh, God,” she moaned. “You have a kid! Oh my God.” “What? No!” Harry spluttered. “Why the hell is the first thing you assume that I have a kid?” “I don’t know!” She was now standing facing him completely. “We’ve never had secrets between us, especially for as long as you’ve apparently kept them, what am I supposed to think? Maybe one of the girls you hooked up with got pregnant, and you’ve been hiding the fact you’re a baby daddy because you know I wouldn’t be able to keep the fact I can be the cool drunk aunt to myself.” All of that came out as is she’d prepared it ages ago. “Well, no.” Harry shook his head stepping closer so he could be chest to chest with Y/N. “I’m not anyone’s baby daddy. At least I don’t think so, but umm... when that moment would come... when I have a kid...” He looked up at the ceiling and sighed before lifting a gentle hand to cup her cheek. I wouldn’t want you to be the drunk aunt. I um...” There goes nothing. “I’d kinda like if you were the mom.” “Of course, I’ll be the Godmother!” Both of them said at the same time, making the other’s brain stumble over the words said. “Wait, mom?” Y/N’s question was breathless. “Like donate my eggs or some shit?” “No like, I’ve been in love with you for close to four years, and I wanna try and build a future with you, where you’re more than just my best friend.” “Oh.” That was all that managed to escape her mouth as he fully opened his heart, and Harry couldn’t lie – it shattered. He didn’t know what he was expecting, but it was more than that. “That’s...” Y/N huffed sitting down on the bed. “That’s a lot to take in Harry. Like a lot.” “I know.” He sighed and sat down next to her. “Which is why I’ve been pushing this away for as long as I could, but... it was time. It wasn’t fair to you or me to keep on living like that. Look.” Harry took her palm in his. “Whatever you want us to be, we’ll be that. I - I mean I’ll be heartbroken if you say you don’t feel the same, but no matter what you tell me now, I won’t let you leave my life. I love you, and I’m in love with you. This is your choice which way you chose to go with.” Y/N shook her head, interlacing their fingers and finally looking up at him. “I don’t want you to be heartbroken. It’s the last thing, I’d ever want to see you like. And umm well, if it takes me using the pair of ovaries I have to admit I’ve been in love with you too to change that, I guess I’ll have to say it. I’m in love with you too.” Harry’s eyes glimmered with unshed tears of happiness, as he looked at Y/N like she’d hung the stars in the sky. Not that it mattered. He always looked at her like that. “You mean it?” “Yeah,” she chuckled, wiping away a few stray pearls from her own cheeks. “I guess I always thought I’d end up the drunk aunt in your life, so that’s why I thought you’d ask me to be whatever future child’s Godmother. But I love you, and I’m in love with you too.” “Can I – “ Fuck, Harry was too giddy for his own good. “Can I kiss you?” And when Y/N chuckled, nodding he swore he already was in heaven. “Yes, please.” At first, the touch of his lips was gentle, almost afraid, but the second he pressed them to Y/N’s, and she gasped at the sensation, it became full of lust as passion, years of pent-up pining and angst and just plain old stupidity surfacing and morphing itself into a steamy make-out session. In a split second, she was sprawled out on Harry’s bed, his toned body leaning over hers and teasing hands moving along her sides, making her squirm and ache for more of his touch, but she wasn’t the only one who wanted to explore a body with a new mindset of what was possible. As Y/N moaned from Harry’s tongue invading her mouth, her hand couldn’t help itself as it slid down his chest, and her finger flicked against the button of his trousers. “Can I touch you there?” Y/N whispered against his mouth, and Harry eagerly nodded. “Please. Been dreaming about this for literally years.” Smiling, she allowed him to continue and explore her mouth with his tongue, intoxicated on one another’s taste. In fact, Y/N was so far gone just from the kiss, she forgot how a fly worked and needed Harry’s help to open it. “Get back here,” she grumbled as he chuckled, having leaned up a bit to make it easier for her to get the offensive piece of clothing off. “We’ll see how you fare with a bra.” “Oh, I’m an expert.” His hands trailed to her shoulder where he snapped one of the straps against her skin, making her yelp. “You do not want to do that when my hand is an inch away from your dick.” But the threat had no merit to it, as she dipped her palm behind Harry’s boxers while his mouth went to soothe the sting and leave a little mark on her skin, which he’d get to admire later on. The second, Y/N wrapped her hand around his cock an involuntary moan escaped into the air, as she gripped him. Fuck, she couldn’t wait until he was inside her, because, and it might sound a little cliché given how they were best friends who’d fallen in love with one another, but she was one hundred percent sure, he was made exactly for her. But no matter how much she twisted her hand or how gently or roughly she rubbed the tip, he couldn’t get hard, and Harry was on the verge of tears, which Y/N saw and instantly pulled away, cupping his face. “I’m sorry,” he choked out. “Fuck, I don’t know what’s wrong with me.” “Hey!” Y/N cooed. “None of that. It’s alright. Shit happens.” Harry nodded understanding that she was right, but he still felt shitty and well, he felt insecure about it. “I just. Fuck. Usually, when I think of you, I’m hard in like a second.” And although all Y/N wanted to do was smirk and tease him about the fact that he thought of her while wanking himself off, that wasn’t the right moment. “I promise, you turn me on, you do." He sniffled. "This had never happened before.” But Y/N wasn’t offended or sad, and her laugh wasn’t mocking or trying to hurt him. “Harry you’re dead tired.” She cupped his cheek with one of her hands, and if he’d been ice cream he would’ve literally melted. “You had to wake up at four in the fucking morning and won’t go to sleep until two the next day. Let yourself rest a bit.” “But,” he whined and then huffed. “But I wanna love on you. Wanna show you just how crazy I am about you.” “And you will. You know I’ll always hold you to your word. But this won’t be fun for either of us if mid-fuck you suddenly collapse on me asleep. I don’t need to go to the A and E and explain the broken nose is because my boyfriend decided to take a nap while shagging. A nap on my face.” But Harry hadn’t really heard anything she’d said after Y/N mentioned the b-word, a dopey smile on his face. “I’m your boyfriend? You really want me like that?” “I mean I would prefer if you were Phoebe…” Harry pinched her side, making her squeal before tackling her in a hug. “Shut up!” And that’s how the two fell asleep (and were woken up twenty minutes later by an assistant in a panic given how Harry was supposed to be on set in five minutes) – wrapped up in one another’s arms, smiles on their faces, and no longer best friends, but lovers.

Tags (crossed out wouldn’t take):

Everything tags: @lumelgy @palaiasaurus64 @supernaturalbaesduh @breezy1415 @crazy--me @thatawkwardlittlefangirl @sea040561 @staryeyedgirl @deathbyarabbit @s-c-a-r-e-d-po-t-t-e-r @reblogger-not-a-blogger @m-a-t-91 @dalilx @i-need-a-hero-i-need-a-loki @maladaptive-ninja-returns @averyrogers83 @in-the-end-im-still-trash @gallifreyansass @dewy-biitch @avxgers @unlikelygalaxygiver @magicwithaknife @ollyoxenfrees @bnhvrdy @tvwhoresblog @celebsimagines @thatkindofgurl @sj-thefan @teenwolflover28 @lestersglitterglue @im-squished

Harry Styles tags: @sarcasticallywitty15 @breezykpop @girlboss99 @harrystylesdoesntknowiexist @alliyjane @sirtommyholland

A/N: I loved writing this so much :)

P.S. my tags are always open

P.S.S. I don’t take requests, sorry. Also, please don’t repost my story on other platforms (wattpad etc) without specific written permission.

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bookishofalder · 3 years

Text

Night Changes [Four]

Summary: Desire and darkness consume Poe and the reader, leaving them with only one goal. In the aftermath, years of pain and grief finally surface.

Warnings: 18+ Sex Pollen=dubcon/noncon smut. Dark themes, mild violence/injury descriptions, language, angst, fluff. WC: 10,551

A/N: SURPRISE! One day early because I love you all and got my shit together this week. PLEASE NOTE the red banners are visual cuts you can use to skip the dark smut should you prefer to!

Poe stood next to Charlie on the tarmac, waiting impatiently with his stomach in knots of excitement and anticipation. Even Charlie was shifting from foot to foot, uncharacteristically quiet while watching the transport ship slowly landing. When it hit the ground and the flight intake crew moved forward to help with debarking, he tossed Poe his signature grin.

“Ready, Flyboy?”

Poe laughed, “What does that even mean?” He glanced down at his shirt, straightening it for the tenth time before smoothing his hair carefully. “It’s been two years, I’d have gone to pick her up myself if they would have let me.”

“That’s my point,” His friend replied smoothly, raising a brow at Poe, who gazed back at his best friend, bewildered. “Two years apart, barely been able to speak with her, you keep her picture in your inner pocket here,” He tapped Poe over the heart, where the picture would be if he was in his flight suit, “You two are the most clueless lovebirds, I swear. Don’t hold back on my account.”

Glancing at the ship to see the ramp still hadn't lowered, Poe frowned, a rush of emotions swirling within. “You...uh, knew how I-?”

Charlie clapped Poe on the shoulder, “Isn’t there a term for it? Soulmates, I think. Yeah.”

“Charlie, I don’t think-“

Charlie rolled his eyes, “I’m not saying anything else about it, don’t worry. Just wanted you to know I understand why you took so long picking the perfect shade of sand shirt to wear under your jacket.”

Poe hummed in response, stunned by the casual way his friend spoke like everything was inevitable. He wasn’t so sure, though he’d always thought the term ‘soulmate’ could apply to platonic relationships. And while he was pretty sure he’d never just felt platonic toward you in any sense, Poe wasn’t going to get his hopes up that you actually may return his feelings.

Two years ago, Poe had held you the entire night before his and Charlie’s departure for D’Qar, cried along with you over how impossible it felt to part, to not see each other every day when his life had been wrapped around yours since as long as he could remember. He had left a part of himself there with you on Yavin-4, and now you were about to disembark your transport ship and unknowingly hand it back to him by simply being with him, real and tangible.

He was nervous to see you, he didn’t know why. Maybe Charlie’s words were only highlighting Poe’s own concerns now that you were mere moments away. He had barely even been able to get in contact with you for two years, he and Charlie were far enough away and regularly over-worked that it was impossible to do as much as they both would have liked. What if you climbed off of this ship as a completely different person? Perhaps things wouldn’t be as easy and natural between you both now, after so long apart.

He’d gotten through these past two years without you knowing he would always have his memories of you, that before he knew it you would be with him-and Charlie-again, and new memories could be made. Maybe you didn’t feel the same. Regardless, the last thing Poe was going to do when he finally had you back was confessing his feelings and risk fucking everything up straight off the cuff. He’d lived with these feelings for a long time, he could continue to do so now.

Lost in his thoughts, Charlie suddenly stood taller next to Poe, who glanced at his friend to find he was beaming toward the transport ship. Following his gaze, he first saw that the ramp was down and many of the passengers were now splitting away meeting friends and family. It only took him a moment from then to locate you.

The moment his eyes landed on you, excitedly bouncing down the ramp with a duffel bag over your shoulder, eyes searching wildly around, Poe felt every single worry melt, and a heavyweight on his shoulders seemed to lift away. You still looked like you, and stars were you ever beautiful, the loveliest woman-because, you were a woman now, not a kid, not a goofy teenager-he’d ever laid eyes on. He drank you in, during those moments you hadn’t yet spotted Charlie’s waving arm. Two years had given your curves a new classification, a reverence within Poe rising as he gazed briefly in surprise at the swell of your breasts, the fullness in your hips.

He could...drop to the ground right here and declare his undying love for you, just for coming back to him with that same fucking perfect smile. Just for the way your eyes finally found him and Charlie and you lit up like a sun, bathing everyone lucky enough to be within your presence in your warm glow. It was a fucking sight, a moment that he would never forget; you grinning and then hurrying forward through the crowd. Your duffel bag hit the ground just seconds before you were throwing yourself toward your brother and Poe, who each expected exactly what you would do and easily stepped forward and caught you. Crushing you between them in an embrace that felt so whole, so entirely right. Poe felt for the first time in two years as though he were home.

Wherever in the galaxy Poe went, if he had you with him it would be home.

“Oh stars, kriffing STARS,” You were squealing, an arm wrapped behind each of their necks to hold yourself up, your lips peppering warm kisses between them each, “I’ve missed you both so much, my best guys!” You had a few happy tears on your cheeks now, Poe noticed when you leant your head to his and pressed your forehead to his own, repeating the affectionate greeting with Charlie.

“Kid, fuck it’s good to see you,” Charlie’s voice was thick with emotion, but his eyes were much drier than both yours and Poe’s. “How was the trip?”

“Maker, Charlie, Poe-you’re both so tall!” You laughed, realizing you were dangling a few inches above the ground as they held on to you. Poe liked the way he could feel your laughter as your body moved against him; as though you were passing it to him. “The trip was fine, crap food but I had a nice elder lady as my seat-mate. Reminded me of mum.”

They set you down, though Charlie was stroking your hair out of your face and Poe kept his hand on your waist, unable to let you go and lose the sensation of you finally, finally in his arms again. He never wanted to be apart from you for that long again, not if he could help it.

“I’m sorry we couldn’t make it home for mum’s funeral,” Charlie murmured, an apology he’d repeated many times since your mother’s passing a few months prior.

“Hey,” You smiled sadly, “You two spent a lot of credits to holo-call in for it, that meant a lot to me. You know mum would have been livid if you’d abandoned your duties just for her.” Still, a few more tears slipped down your cheeks and Poe reached up with his free hand to gently wipe them away as Charlie nodded solemnly, opening his mouth to respond when-

“Horn! Hey, come meet my brother!” The three of you glanced around, Poe recognizing one of the mechanics Charlie was friendly with waving him over. Pressing a quick kiss to your temple and assuring you he’d be right back, Charlie hurried away to greet the mechanic and his brother.

When you turned to peer back up at Poe, your grin wide and eyes seemingly doing their own assessment of him, he realized that this was now the first time you’d been alone together since that night two years ago. Feeling his face flush, Poe tugged you close against him and pressed his lips to the top of your head. You certainly hadn’t gotten any taller yourself, now especially small in his embrace. Something about the realization settled warm in his belly, but he pushed the thoughts away.

“Missed you so much, sweetheart,” He whispered, pulling back slightly to look down into your eyes again. Your expression was a little shy, as though you were pleasantly caught off guard by his affection, “How have you been, really?”

You had your hands pressed against his chest as you smiled up at him. “Good, glad to be here finally. Yavin-4 didn’t feel like home anymore after mum,” You trailed off, eyes falling and brightening somewhat as you gazed at his chest. “Poe, you got uh,” You slide your hands across the expanse of him and Poe had to work to keep himself from gasping at the sensation of it as heat coiled within him, “Like, big? Broad. Wow, oh and less scruffy, too!” You added, eyes swinging back up to his clean-shaven jawline.

Poe made a noise of embarrassment at your words, smiling at you shyly. Reaching up with one hand, you stroked along his jaw one, two, three times. Dousing fuel on the fire within him, the motion was so second nature, intimate, comforting, that he really could have gathered you in his arms right there and pressed his lips to yours. He wanted to ask you if you realized how much he fucking loved you, if you had any idea what you did to him, body and soul and mind consumed and controlled by you and only ever you.

Instead, taking a deep breath, Poe shifted himself away from you casually, leaning at the same time to bring his head level to yours, his nose scrunched, “And you are exactly as short as I remember. Actually, might be shorter with my extra couple of inches now.”

“Rude,” You laughed, playfully smacking his shoulder, whatever tension that had just been present now gone. Your eyes strayed away from Poe’s to look all around at what you could see of the Rebel base here on the tarmac, your gaze landing almost hungrily on a nearby x-wing before jumping to watch as several flew overhead; the current patrol.

He watched you in adoration as you drank in your first real glimpse of the Resistance, your eyes widened in wonder and excitement that Poe had felt too the moment he’d arrived on D’Qar.

But in truth, it didn’t compare to what he was feeling right now.

Poe reached up and stroked your cheek, “Welcome home, (y/n).”

MISSION DAY SIX - ABOARD CRUISER

“Commander.” You stepped out of the cockpit, your hands twisting in front of you nervously. Poe looked up from where he sat on the bottom bunk. “We’re safely in hyperspace. Autopilot engaged.” You kept your voice soft, as if afraid he would startle.

Or maybe you were afraid of him now. He wouldn’t blame you.

Rather than replying, Poe simply made a noise that was meant to be confirmation he had heard you but it came out strangled enough that it sounded like he was in pain. And he was in agony but he was trying to hold it all back, figure out how to forget.

Did there exist a plant that could make him fucking forget?

He watched as your face twisted before you dropped to your knees in front of him, his body stiffening when you pushed between his legs. Your hands came to rest gently on his cheeks as Poe met your eyes, their expression mirroring his own; pain, regret. But there was something more there, though it hurt him to see it: concern.

“Poe,” Your voice was soft and Poe felt himself tremble in response, unwilling to accept your kindness. “Please, Poe. You didn’t do anything wro-“

Poe jerked himself out of your hold, leaning back as you remained crouched before him, your hands falling to his thighs to keep steady. “Didn’t do anything wrong?” He breathed, watching you look up at him. “I keep hurting you. All I do is hurt you, (y/n). Don’t tell me everything is okay.”

MISSION DAY FOUR

Desire.

It was...the only thing you could feel anymore. All there was. Nothing else in your mind, like it had been scraped of every memory, every morsel of you and the only thing that remained was this burning, intense thirst. It was fucking incredible, there was no pain anymore, the heat felt like it belonged, that you were designed for the sole purpose of allowing it to burn you. When you set your gaze to the man before you, you could see that he was burning too.

Poe, with his dark eyes and heaving chest, moved quickly-almost too quickly, and you wondered if the pollen gave humans a physical boost. It would make sense because when he was suddenly lifting you and thrusting you against the stone wall, you didn’t feel it. There was only pleasure, no pain, no disorientation, but fuck the feel of his hands finally on you was exactly what you needed. The relief of his touch was enough to have you craving more, more now, now!

As if reading your mind, he was swiftly peeling your layers of gear off, ripping and tossing the material, tugging off your boots, one hand holding you against the wall and it wasn’t until he was sliding your pants down that you realized you were dangling a few feet above the ground. So there was definitely some juice to the pollen. Something about that realization made your toes curl in anticipation.

“Please, please fuck me, I can’t wait another minute,” You heard yourself begging, and dark Poe smirked, pulling his clothing off before adjusting his grip on you. Now, his hand slid down to roughly hold your ass, pressing his body against yours so closely you were supported between him and the wall. You wrapped your legs around his hips, moaning at the feel of his erection pressed into your thigh, and you glanced down to watch as he lined himself up with your cunt.

And stars, he was huge, the biggest you’d ever had. Thick and veiny, you let out the filthiest moan just looking at his cock, your sounds morphing into screams when he tilted his hips and thrust into you completely in one swift motion. Filling you. Growling as he claimed you entirely.

It should have hurt. Even with how wet you were, being split open and filled so brutally should be agonizing but it felt amazing. You could hear yourself demanding he never stops once he began a fast, harsh pace. Your head knocked back into the wall and you still felt no discomfort, not with dark Poe surrounding you, filling you so perfectly. One of his hands did shoot up and grip your jaw, pressing your head into the wall so that you couldn’t look anywhere but at him.

He was feral, his expression greedy and dangerous and it only made you clench around him. “Fuck,” He groaned both hands tightening their hold on your hip and face, “G-going to fucking ruin you for any other cock, little girl. Fucking brat, always so mean, and now you’re begging for me to fill you up, aren’t you?”

You were delirious with pleasure, his words shot straight to your pussy, but you still managed to reply. “Want you to...fill me up, use me, just n-never stop fucking me.” He growled at your words and pressed his lips to yours, his hand on your jaw forcing your mouth to open so that he could lick into you, taste you and swallow your whimpers and moans for more. After a few minutes of this pace, you felt the coil you hadn’t realize was tightening suddenly snap, and you gushed all over his cock as you had your first orgasm.

“Oh maker, I’m cumming, fuck!” But even as you came, crashing through wave after wave, dark Poe didn’t let up and you didn’t feel even remotely spent. An orgasm of that magnitude should have had you passing out; instead, you screamed for more.

Poe couldn’t get enough of your body, tight pussy clenched around him as he took you in every position. He didn’t feel tired, sore, and despite having already filled you several times with his seed, his erection hadn’t worn off. You allowed him to roughly handle you into whatever pose he felt like, though you would curse if he took too long, and then mewl when he’d enter you again and begin harshly pounding you. Those dark eyes of yours always focused on him, taunting him. Begging him to claim you.

He was behind you on the floor now, one hand gripping your hip and the other pressed into your lower back, forcing you to arch for him. You were screaming for more even as he relentlessly slammed into you and he only grinned at the idea of giving you what you wanted. He smacked your ass to punctuate every other word, “So fucking tight! Such a good little slut, taking all my cum, you want more now?” He slapped you one last time as his hips slowed, his orgasm tearing through him and pulling another from you and he cursed aloud at how fucking good it felt when you squeezed his cock during your high.

“More, fuck, more!” You whined moments later, even as his forward thrusts forced out the excessive amount of cum he’d filled you with. It was hot, the visual alone enough to hold his attention as you wiggled against him and begged.

“Good little slut, taking me so well,” He moaned, leaning over your back and nipping marks into your neck. When he rose back up, he pulled you with him so that you were flush against his chest as he picked up the pace again. The new angle seemed to hit something inside you differently, as your renewed screams were filling the room within seconds. “Such a perfect body, look at these tits.” He whispered into your ear, one hand cupping your breast and pinching your nipple.

You came again, drenching his cock and before you even stopped moaning from the high you were asking for more.

And fuck, he was going to give you more.

Hours, it had definitely been hours. At least six, you thought, if the light from filtering from the hall was anything to go by. The sun was different on this planet, never fully setting, so from your best knowledge you guessed Poe and you had been fucking for a good six hours, minimum.

It wasn’t enough. You hoped it never stopped. Maybe it wouldn’t.

It still didn’t hurt. Each orgasm wasn’t yet enough. You could see rather than feel the bruises on your skin, the cuts on your knees and hands from the rough ground. Even when Poe spanked you, the bite was momentary and delicious. This high was simply incredible. The sensation of him coating your insides with thick ropes of cum was forever engrained in your mind now.

You were riding him now; had been for the last few orgasms. He liked letting you do the work even though it didn’t feel like work-and watched as you rolled your hips and bounced for him, his hands occasionally reaching up to play with your tits. When he would come, he would grab your hips and slam you down, his strength preventing you from moving as he filled you deep, usually pulling your orgasm along with him because he was just so fucking sexy groaning for you.

“Like riding me, little girl?” He growled, releasing your hips and allowing you to start moving again. This time, you braced your hands on his chest so that you could change the angle, moaning when his thick cock dragged along your walls in the most perfect way. Kriff.

“Love it, never stopping,” You gasped, the room loud with the noises you each made and the sounds your cum stuffed pussy made each time he entered you. “Fuck, so fucking good.”

You sunk yourself onto his cock for a long time, watching his face as he filled you over and over, and still, it wasn’t enough.

Was it ever going to be enough?

Poe could see you were cock drunk, your grasp on Basic slipping to the point where you simply whimpered out short phrases, some of them entirely unintelligible. It was incredible, seeing you bent over the table, stuffed full of his cock and unable to articulate properly how good it felt.

“Oh fuck, here you go, take my cum,” He snapped his hips forwards and came, his grip on your hips like steel, holding you in place to take every last drop. You came moments later, your orgasm soaking him and dragging his out again. After just a moment, he readjusted you, lifting one of your legs onto the table and holding it there, his other hand sliding up your back and pressing to the back of your neck, pinning you.

“Oh, fuck, fuck!” You screamed when he started up again. He smirked, enjoying the sound of his body slapping against yours. From the way he held you, Poe had his wrist comm directly in his line of sight. After a moment, he registered the time on the display and realized that you’d been fucking for twelve hours, give or take. Twelve hours.

“Fuck, been fucking you all day little girl, filling you with my cum for fucking hours and hours,” He groaned, pressing you into the table even more. You whimpered in response, unable to speak. “Yeah, you love it, don’t you? Want more, come on I know you can speak, tell me you want my cum.”

“Uh, fuck I w-want, want your c-cum, please!”

“Yeah you do, fucking slut,” He picked up the pace again, then shot over the edge as you screamed, “Take my cum, take it, fuck.” Poe growled, still amazed at how tight you were, milking his cock perfectly every time. Once his orgasm subsided, he flipped you over onto your back and took a moment to gaze down at you.

Your black eyes were staring up at him hungrily, waiting for him to decide his next move. When you licked your lips, an idea popped into his head. He reached down and spun you so your head was at the edge of the table, your legs pointing away from him. He moved you so that your head just dangled over the edge, and then he pushed his fingers into your mouth, wetting them.

“Gonna put my cock down your throat, think you can handle that?” He said, grunting when your lips wrapped around his fingers and sucked a little. He was quick to replace them with his cock, one hand moving to hold under your head and the other guiding his length into your eager little mouth. “Fuck, yes.” He moaned, quickly setting a steady pace.

Once he had a rhythm going, Poe used the hand not supporting your head to place one of yours behind that one, “Tap, fucking hell yes, t-tap my hand if you need air, ah shit!” He just managed to give you the instructions before the overwhelming feeling of your mouth working on him so expertly had his balls pulling up and before he knew it, he was shooting his load down your throat.

You swallowed everything and then continued sucking him off as he fucked your face.

Thirteen hours.

He tasted delicious. You’d almost wished, when he shot that first load down your throat, that he’d started things out this way so that the taste of him was on your tongue the whole time. You made up for it by taking as much as you could, swallowing around his length as you pulled orgasm after orgasm from him.

Eventually, you were moaning around him enough that he realized it had been a while since you’d cum, and he pulled from your mouth. His dark gaze searched your cum covered face greedily before he climbed onto the table, pulling you up to lift you over his cock. He lowered you slowly onto him, the stretch exactly what you needed and so perfect that the moment you were fully seated you came, jerking in his arms.

You were in his lap, your legs wrapped around his back, and you briefly thought of how this was the most intimate position yet. Your chests pressed together, and he was expertly moving you in his lap, helping you to ride him.

His face was a breath away. You closed the gap.

He groaned when your mouth opened for him, letting his tongue taste the mixture of you and his spend. You squeezed his cock harder, you were so turned on, and it only took a few more rolls of your hips to feel yourself come undone again.

Your head felt heavy, so you let it fall into the crook of his neck, nuzzling.

“Oh yeah, so fucking good,” You whimpered, your arms around him, “Oh, Poe don’t stop!”

Poe.

Your Poe.

This is how...this is how he would have liked to be with you the first time, how he pictured it when he was younger. You straddling his lap, wrapped around each other as you rolled your hips and he pulled the most delicious sounds from you with his deep thrusts. It was intimate, the position allowing him to move between kissing you, holding you, licking your breasts, ensuring you were enjoying it as much as him.

He could whisper sweet nothings into your ear this way, tell you he loved you and that he’d take care of you. And you would have liked it too, he knew, because you liked watching his face, reading his expressions every day and he knew that would have translated over to making love.

But this-this wasn’t making love, was it?

You had dropped your head down as you came again, your body curling into his as though for safety, comfort.

“Oh, Poe, don’t stop!”

He was going to cum again, the sound of his name on your lips for the first time hurling him over the edge, “Sweetheart, oh fuck, (y/n)!” He pressed your body into his and dropped his head to your neck, where he peppered it with gentle kisses as he spilled inside of you.

You both slowed your movements after coming down from your highs this time.

Poe felt himself panting, out of breath. You were panting too.

But why...why was he on the table? Poe leaned back slightly and you raised your head at his movement, your eyes meeting his. They weren’t as dark as before, but you looked tired. Poe felt tired, exhausted really.

You were still moving your hips, almost as if on autopilot. But you were frowning at Poe as you did, and then you winced. He froze, watching as you looked down at yourself, his eyes following yours.

“No...” He heard himself whisper in dawning horror. You were covered in marks; bruises or bites, hickies, red welts from places that looked like they’d been slapped.

They had been slapped. He had slapped you.

Poe felt himself softening inside you, a pain in his back and knees, his chest smarting as well. He glanced down and saw track marks from your nails down his chest. He didn’t even remember you doing that, it hadn’t hurt at the time. You whimpered, this time in pain and he looked back up into your eyes. They weren’t dark anymore. You were crying.

“Sweetheart-“ Poe faltered, shaking his head and trying to clear the clinging fog. You shifted a little and he slipped from inside of you. Both you and Poe groaned at the sensation, and you quivered as the mixture of fluids spilled out from inside you. “I-what happened...what did I do?”

Poe was sobbing now too.

It took some time to regain enough strength to move from the table, without the boost the pollen had provided you were both spent and every tired, aching muscle, bruise and bite mark or scratch could be fully felt now. Poe recovered first, easing himself to his feet and searching for the packs you’d each dropped when things...went dark.

You were panting on the table still, in much worse shape than he was and the rising panic inside of Poe was giving him the energy he needed to get to the medkits. He pushed through the pain in his limbs, thirst in his mouth and throbbing in his head-none of it mattered right now, not when you were suffering. He glanced at his wrist comm as he unzipped the medkit and realized, with horror, that it had been fourteen hours. Fourteen hours of brutal, relentless, rough sex.

The plant hadn’t just taken away inhibitions, hadn’t made it impossible to resist one another, no it had obliterated both of you-pushed you both into the far recesses of your minds and forced you to watch as its pollen turned you into feral, angry animals with exactly one goal.

And it stole from you both, stole your consent, your right to chose, abilities to control the urges that were twisted by its potency. Warped into selfish desire, the need for release and control, as if it was some archaic mating ritual-mark, consume, dominate. It wasn’t real, none of it had been, each of you losing yourselves in a hopeless battle against the strength of the pollen. And Poe...he had been violent, mean, brutal. It wasn’t that you hadn’t been, but it was the unavoidable reality that he was much bigger and stronger, the boost of the pollen making it easy to manhandle you.

He would never forgive himself for harming you. For the things he said, the marks left all over your body. If he could have died instead, fought against the pollen and let whatever happened in that case happen, he would have. Ten times over, he would have.

Just like Charlie, he would have sacrificed himself in an instant to protect you.

But you had refused to run and told Poe that you didn’t want to die. At that moment, right as he was coiled to try and run from you, he realized that you could die too. There was no medical backup, no nearby crew to call for help. It was Poe and you and the bacta shots that would have been completely ineffective with the pollen pulsing through your systems. He had to give in, and the darkness had taken him over the moment he accepted it.

He remembers fleetingly thinking of all the times in his life he had let himself think of being with you intimately. Usually guilt-ridden, he pushed the thoughts away; as a teenager, he failed half the time, and as an adult, he tried to refocus on other women, but they never measured up. When his imagination did get the better of him, it was always, always tender. Soft, slow, sensual. Just the very idea of being the one pulling moans from your lips and taking care of you would send him over the edge.

But that wasn’t what happened here. It wasn’t a light high that lowered inhibitions and made the sex last longer, feel more intense. No, this was a sinister plant so potent it drove away each of your humanity and respect for one another, pulling pleasure for yourselves instead of giving it to one another.

It was cold and harsh, and Poe was devastated.

You whimpered suddenly, pulling him from his thoughts, his head shooting up to look toward where you were laying on the table. “Sweetheart?” He stood the medkit in hand and tried to swallow back his sobs as he moved toward you.

“S’okay,” You groaned, eyes pressed tightly shut, “Find the bacta?”

“Yes, I-“ Poe faltered as he stood at the edge of the table, his hands holding the bacta shot he’d pulled out. “Can I touch you, or do you want to try and-?“

“Poe,” You mumbled tiredly, “I’m okay, please just give me the shot.” You attempted to roll yourself to your side and expose your buttocks for him but only ended up sobbing in pain again.

Flinching, Poe reached out and gently, so incredibly carefully, helped you to twist your hips. He heard himself whispering words of comfort but focused on opening the shot and lining it up. When he plunged the needle into you and pressed down on the plunger, you let out a weak but relieved little moan. “You’re okay sweetheart, I’m here, I’ll take care of you.” He promised, tossing aside the bacta shot and brushing his fingers over your face comfortingly.

His shattered heart beat hopefully when you reached up and took hold of his hand, squeezing.

Poe was watching you race Charlie up an older tree, his strength no match for your agility as the smaller sibling. It was a lazy day, hot enough to warrant a day by the river-which was what most of the kids in their town on Yavin-4 had been thinking, it seemed. The banks of the river were piled with kids and teens as far as he could see, though thankfully the prestige of the Horn and Dameron families left your favourite spot along the water relatively free of unwanted guests.

A few friends were nearby, giving Poe his space as he sat leaning against a boulder. A book sat open in his lap, though he’d been distracted many times now thanks to his inability to control his thoughts around you. His father had assured Poe that it was natural at seventeen to have a wandering mind, a surge of hormones, he’d horrifyingly explained. He advised that should the thoughts and feelings become too intense, that Poe needed to take a few breaths, refocus elsewhere, remind himself of the person that deserved his respect and not his wayward thoughts.

But Poe didn’t have these thoughts or feelings or whatever the fuck about anyone but you. It had always been you, and though so far he’d managed to hide his emotional and physical feelings from your notice, it alarmed him in moments like this. When you revealed much more skin than usual in a simple water suit, hair and sun-kissed skin damp from the water, he worried he might slip up. He was as ashamed of the direction his thoughts would go in as he was sure that you would, for the rest of his life, be the only one he ever truly admired so ardently, loved so deeply that he fought to refuse to disrespect you with his hormone fuelled thoughts.

You gave a whoop when you reached the highest point the tree would allow, its trunk and branches thinning enough to make it unsafe to climb any further beyond. A friend of yours, Tahla, and a few of his buddies were nearby in the water, laughing and teasing you from below and jokingly daring you and Charlie to jump. It wouldn’t have been unsafe to do, so instead, you both laughed and began the slow climb down.

You were moving much more slowly than Charlie now, out of breath from the race and taking care not to scratch yourself. Your brother hit the ground, tossed Poe a smirk, then barrelled into the water to cool off. Poe rolled his eyes, laughing as Charlie started picking up some of the smaller guys and tossing them into the water. A game fondly, yet unofficially, referred to as tempting the bull.

Poe adjusted himself against the rock, trying to get comfortable but he felt warm enough now that he thought he should get in the water as soon as Charlie wore himself out enough not to be a threat. You were still a good way up the tree, now slowed even further as you had a conversation with one of Tahla’s friends that had come out of the water to chat with you. Frowning to himself, Poe watched as you continued a friendly banter and felt the clutches of envy reaching for him.

This seemed like a good enough excuse to close his eyes and take one of those deep breaths his father advised. First standing, Poe tugged off his shirt so that he could make his way to the water, then allowed his eyes to flutter shut. Taking half a breath in until the sound of a branch snapping and your scream halted him in his tracks. Poe’s eyes snapped open and then he was frantically running, too far away to do anything as you lost your grip and fell, slamming into the ground on your side and letting out a pained wail.

Poe briefly met Charlie’s wide eyes as they both ran for you from different directions. Panic reflected there, but Poe got to you first and his eyes moved to you. Annoyingly, the blonde who had been speaking to you-distracting you-was knelt over you and worriedly checking you over.

Poe pushed him away from you, “Don’t touch her,” He heard himself snarl, taking a threatening step toward the kid, who raised his hands in surrender, “Get the fuck-“

“Poe,” He halted in his tracks and spun at the sound of your tiny voice, his anger waning the moment he saw you clutching awkwardly at your arm, Charlie knelt beside you. It was like you hadn’t even noticed your brother, though, your eyes only on Poe, surprisingly intense as you stopped him from chasing down Tahla’s idiot friend. “I-I think my arm is b-broken.” You sniffled, eyes streaming, and flinched as some of the tears ran through the scratches on your cheek.

“Oh sweetheart,” He was kneeling in front of you seconds later, inspecting you all over for any more injuries, thankful when your head appeared to be free of any bleeding. He looked to Charlie, who read his thoughts instantly.

“Kid, I’ll run ahead and let the Healer’s know what happened, flyboy’s got you.” Charlie kissed the top of your head and ran off at full speed.

You let out another sob, this time revealing to Poe that your pride was as injured as your arm. He leaned down and pressed his forehead to yours, “You’re okay, sweetheart. I’m here, I’ll take care of you.” And with great care, he slid one arm under your legs, the other bracing your back, lifting you as he stood.

He carried you with great caution, moving a little slower than he’d prefer but, since you were still flushed and awake he figured jostling you too much would cause more damage than taking his time getting you to the healer.

“Were you gonna punch Raine, Poe?” You asked, still holding your arm carefully.

Poe grimaced, “He distracted you, should have waited till you were on the ground to bug you.” He replied tightly, not meeting your gaze as he didn’t want you to see in his expression how upset he was.

You sensed it, though, your good hand reaching up to stroke his jaw one, two, three times in a successful effort to soothe him.

“Raine isn’t all that distracting.” You murmured after a minute. Poe had to bite back a pleased smile, a little guilt bubbling up as a rogue thought tumbled in the back of his head that perhaps you had been looking at someone else when you became distracted.

Poe was a stubborn fucking man, this was something you’d always been keenly aware of, but at this moment you wanted to throttle him for it. You didn’t have the emotional energy to deal with him, though the bacta shot he’d given you had you feeling physically wonderful, it did nothing to help your mind.

And you were so weary, all you wanted to do was sleep but his refusal to receive his bacta shot was preventing that from happening. You just needed to close your eyes for a few hours and let your brain process everything that had happened.

“Poe, there’s no reason for you to say no to the shot. You know I have to do it, it’s my directive-“

“And as your Commander,” He cut you off, pushing the hand that held the shot away, “I’m ordering you to not follow the directive. I’m fine. Don’t need it.”

And he wouldn’t even look at you now, his eyes everywhere but yours, his expression tight. Stubborn, stupid flyboy!

You considered how to convince him, realizing the arguments you had used so far were ineffective. “Poe, I don’t know anything about this pollen.” You stepped up to stand in front of him at the table, both of you now dressed in fresh clothing, skin scrubbed with medical towelettes, though you both needed to take showers urgently. You stunk.

Poe glanced at you nervously as you came into his space, and you wanted to cry at how he looked afraid of you. Afraid to move, because he might hurt you. You could see him taking the last few years and pushing it all into this fucking day, convincing himself that he hurt you again, that it was somehow his fault.

You’d really done a number on him. Your heart filled with sorrow.

“I feel fine.”

You set the shot down on the table next to where he sat, then reached up and grabbed his face in your hands, forcing him to meet your eyes. He flinched at your touch, his body going rigid. “Poe, baby please let me do this,” His brows shot up in surprise at the sincere concern in your voice, the tenderness of your hands on his face, “If for no other reason, to at least prevent cardiac arrest or...or a relapse.” You didn’t want to say this aloud, but you knew that just because you’d been exposed to the pollen once didn’t make either of you immune to its effects. The bacta would ensure that nothing further happened while you were on the planet.

“What?” His voice was sharp, “Are you saying I could...that I might-“

You shook your head, “I’m saying I don’t know, and anything is a possibility if you don’t take the shot.”

Poe sighed heavily, his eyes closing as he gave you a small nod. Wordlessly, he stood and you dropped your hands, picking up the bacta shot as he undid his belt and pushed one side of his pants down just enough to reveal his buttocks. Wasting no time, you plunged the shot into his skin and let out a breath of relief at his sound of content. Without thinking, you placed your free hand on his lower back in comfort.

“Thank you, Poe.”

He fixed his pants and glanced at you over his shoulder, his expression painfully dejected. You wanted to hold him. Instead, he took a few measured steps across the room and stooped to pick up both of your packs, no longer meeting your eyes. You sighed.

“Let’s find somewhere to get a few hours shut-eye.” He said, leading the way out of the room.

You followed him, glancing over your shoulder at the room one last time, your heart ten times heavier than it had been before you entered it.

It didn’t take long to find a room with a few bunks, you and Poe each falling to an empty bed and falling asleep in a matter of moments. You were able to get a few hours, waking up feeling surprisingly refreshed, one of the helpful effects of the bacta shot. You were on your back and blinked up at the base of the upper bunk for a few moments, confused as to why you’d awoken. A sharp, suppressed sob pulled your attention to the bed just across from you, though Poe’s back was to you, you could see his shoulders shaking. He was crying.

It happened then, a monumental shift inside of you that was like seeing your whole life flash before your eyes. Only it was all Poe, every single moment of your life interwoven with him because he had always been there, always been absolutely everything to you. Seeing him across the room from you, trying to hide his pain again. Something in the core of your being shifted. You had to bite back a gasp as you felt several years of pent-up anger and pain begin to melt away until you were left raw, trying to reconcile how you had let your relationship with Poe get to this point, and even why you ran in the first place.

Maker, you were awful. Charlie would be ashamed of you, he loved Poe like a brother and you had been nothing but cruel these last couple of months. Another choked back sob cut through the air and you wanted to walk over to Poe and soothe his pain, assure him everything was okay. But it wasn’t, and you didn’t know how to even begin to try and repair everything between you and him, especially not after what had just happened.

But you did...you wanted your best friend back. Which meant you needed to do some serious thinking. And that couldn’t all happen right here during the mission. So you pretended to just be waking up, noisily to give him a moment to hide his tears and pushed everything else back-just for a little while longer.

Poe stilled, and out of the corner of your eye, you saw his head duck down, no doubt wiping his tears away. By the time you sat up, he was rolling over at pretending he had just woken up as well.

“Hey,” You gave him a small smile, then glanced at your wrist comm. “If we eat something and then start our search, we can be back at the ship in roughly four and a half hours.” Poe nodded in response, sitting up, and you watched him reach into one of the packs by the side of his bed. He pulled out two bottles of water and a couple of rations each, handing yours to you and carefully avoiding touching your skin as he did.

As much as you wanted to tell him you weren’t afraid of him, you knew this moment wasn’t the time to start the conversation. Instead, you ate in silence, Poe’s eyes on the floor and yours gazing at the walls, which had some basic Empire propaganda posted upon them.

After breakfast, you each suited up properly for exploring the facility and set out, wandering the halls cautiously in search of the main control room. It didn’t take too long to find, though you were held up trying to get the door to disengage. When your usual tricks didn’t work, you had to set up a charge and blow the door. You’d used these kinds of minor explosives plenty of times, retreating down the hall further than necessary as you counted down until detonation.

Surprising you, Poe suddenly spun from where he stood next to you and blocked your body protectively with his wider frame as the door was blown off of its hinges. He looked over your head, hands clenched at his sides, but he didn’t move until you leaned to look around him and confirmed it was safe to move in.

You felt as though your heart was sitting in the back of your throat now.

It was well preserved, evidently one of the first rooms to be locked up when the Empire forces abandoned this outpost. It was a treasure trove of intel and you excitedly got to work, breaking away from Poe to complete a safety sweep.

After completing a preliminary search of the room, you found the main control panel and, flipping through every piece of information you had in your brain on old technology, you started pulling it open to seek out where you could insert the data drive you’d brought. You were confident BB8 could crack through any ancient firewalls on any of the data you were able to recover. Poe was doing similar work at the stations' console across the room, working in silence but sometimes you could feel his eyes on you, looking away before you could catch his eye.

A while later and you were on your back under the console, seeking out the hidden panel that would give you access to the data bridge. It took a few minutes, but you finally found it and had to finagle it awkwardly with your nails, trying to pry the cover off. It gave a satisfying little ‘pop’ when you managed to free it.

And then it promptly fell straight onto your face.

It shot straight through your hands, the edge smacking off of the corner of your cheek before bouncing to the ground. “Fuck!” You cried, feeling the skin tear and warm blood pooling out.

Stars, you really were off your game.

Dabbing at the blood carefully with the sleeve of your shirt, you were suddenly dragged out from under the panel by your ankles. Before you could even question what was happening, Poe was leaning over you, his expression panic-stricken, only paling further when he saw the blood on your cheek.

“What happened?” His voice was frantic, hands hovering above you; it was an entirely uncharacteristic reaction for him that for a moment you could only stare up at him in surprise. “Sweetheart, what happened?”

“I’m okay,” You assured him hurriedly, sitting up onto your elbows, “Just dropped that panel on my face.” You gazed at Poe as his eyes dropped from you to the panel now laying on the ground next to you. A modicum of relief swept over his features fleetingly.

Wordlessly, he reached into your nearby pack and pulled out a bacta-spray. When his hands raised toward your face, you watched as he hesitated briefly before he touched you, one hand wrapping around the back of your head to hold you steady, the other applying the bacta-spray.

Still holding you, he dropped the spray into the pack again and pulled out a bandage. “Turn your head for me, sweetheart.” He murmured, his eyes focused on your cheek.

You did as he asked and waited as he used both hands to apply the bandage over your skin. Peering up at Poe when he finished, you were touched by his gentle care, though you understood it was coming from a place of contrition more than anything. His fingers absentmindedly brushed downward, to ensure the edges of the bandage were sealed; you shivered involuntarily at the light contact.

Poe went rigid, his eyes meeting yours briefly in surprise before you glanced away, your face flushing. “Thank you.” You murmured, remaining still until he scooted back and stood, and then you were quickly pushing yourself back under the panel.

MISSION DAY SIX - ABOARD CRUISER

You sat back on your hunches, eyes on the man in front of you as he came apart, the emotions he’d tried hiding from you since that morning now spilling out. You were holding yourself steady by gripping his thighs and could feel the way his body was as rigid as durasteel. You looked at him and reminded yourself that this was what you would do to him if you left again, that leaving things unsaid and unresolved was never the answer.

“I hurt you, over and over,” His hands came to clench at his sides, gripping into the sheets of your bunk, “I said horrible things to you, at Charlie’s funeral and then since you’ve been back, and yesterday I-I can’t even-“

“Yesterday wasn’t you, Poe, it wasn’t either of us.” You interjected softly, urging yourself to remain exceptionally calm as he came undone.

He huffed, unimpressed with your argument, “Y-you and I, we lost everything the day Charlie died. But you kept it together, organized the funeral, smiled and hugged everyone who came up to us...all I could do was stand there and be angry at y-you even though I knew it wasn’t your fault,” Poe shook his head aggressively when you opened your mouth to interrupt, “No, you know it’s true, you even said it yourself. I failed you. And then you came back and I failed you again, let us drift further apart than we’d been when you were in a different galaxy. You lost your brother, and then I lost you both and I-I’m so, fuck (y/n), I am so sorry.”

And he sobbed, a retched, heartbreaking sob that almost knocked you off of your feet, it was so real and deep. You couldn’t help the tears that poured down your cheeks in response, and you were momentarily at a loss of how to respond. How could you even begin to help take away that much pain? When you were the fucking person who caused it?

Unsure of what else to do, you slid forward and in between his legs again, your hands moving to grip his forearms. You rubbed up and down soothingly and held him harder when he tried to pull away.

“You shouldn’t be near me, not after w-what I’ve done to you.” He gasped out, failing to move out of your grasp but continuing to struggle. It was a testament to his fear of causing you harm that he simply didn’t push away, as the stronger person.

“Neither of us had any choice, Poe, we were both covered in that pollen. And,” You moved your head to catch his eye, to ensure he heard your next words, “And Poe, I was the one who tackled us into that bush, who forgot the map they studied for two days that showed that cliff. Do you blame me for what happened?”

Poe almost glared at you, stilling, “Of course I don’t blame you-“

“Then understand that I don’t blame you either, Poe, fuck.”

“(y/n),” His voice dropped, thick with emotion, “You said...right before I-you said that you didn’t want to die. When you put it like that, I knew it meant you understood what was happening but hadn’t heard of a plant this powerful and didn’t know if you could die if we didn’t...” He paused, shaking his head. He looked at you then, through tear-soaked lashes, an expression so full of sorrow you stopped breathing. “That was the only reason I stayed with you. I was fighting it, I was going to make a run for it when you wouldn’t. I wanted to run, let myself die because I could feel what the pollen was making me want to do to you and fuck, it scared me. What I did to you yesterday was horrific. Unforgivable. Everything I’ve done to you is.”

Suddenly, you were angry, his words registering in your brain like an explosion, “Shut up,” You growled, harsh enough to catch him off guard and he was peering at you in surprise, eyes searching your face in confusion. “Don’t ever, ever say-I can’t believe you...why would you want to die, Poe? What the hell is wrong with you? Do you think I could survive you dying? That I would want to live in a galaxy where you and Charlie were both gone? I left, I know, but I always knew you were at least alive!”

Poe gaped at you in shock, looking as though you had just slapped him awake, cleared the fog from his brain. Before you knew what was happening, he reached down for you and gripped your waist before dropping to his knees on the ground with you, crushing you into a tight embrace. His head dropped into the crook of your neck, and you wondered how you ever could be trusted enough for this strong, capable man to let himself become so vulnerable for you.

“Didn’t mean it,” He murmured, nuzzling your neck slightly as you instinctively run your fingers through his hair. “I promise I won’t leave...if you don’t want me to, I won’t leave you.”

You remained in Poe’s arms for some time, the silence was no longer heavy with anger but rather thick with emotion. And stars, you had forgotten what being held by Poe was like, the warmth and safety his arms had always surrounded you with. You let yourself forget; instead, you’d spent these last few years painting a picture of Poe Dameron with only the medium of his final words to you, resulting in an ugly, distorted image that served to fuel your pain, your resentment.

In doing this, you had forgotten how complex Poe was, how he acted cocky, snarky, but deep down he was a serious, earnest man with a heart of gold. He let himself feel, didn’t try to hide his emotions from you or Charlie growing up, he cried when you cried and...and fuck, the one time he messed up and let his emotions get the better of him, you fled and didn’t look back. You didn’t let him apologize, and you knew even if he had found you straight after your fight you wouldn’t have listened.

You abandoned Poe because you had been afraid, a coward if there ever was one in this situation. And you weren’t just running from the loss, you were running from feelings you didn’t understand the depth of until you lost your brother. Because there was this moment, it was so brief, fleeting, but for just one moment you had been relieved that Poe hadn’t died during the Gold team mission.

And what did that make you? Not only a coward for running but a monster for thinking it in the first place. Instead of dealing with any of your feelings, your grief, you took the easy route and fled literal constellations away, severing ties with the one man in the whole galaxy who mattered to you anymore because you were terrified of how fucking in love with him you had been, and how your brother dying was what made you realize it.

Poe had let you shower first, taking time while you were in the fresher to collect all of the items from the mission and put them in an airtight container. He didn’t want to risk any of the pollen getting onto either of you again. Once he’d done that, he put on a fresh pot of caf and was halfway through his first cup when you emerged, hair down in long, damp tendrils, wearing another of Charlie’s old shirts and some worn jersey shorts.

“Oh, maker, caf!” You groaned happily, eagerly accepting the cup he’d poured for you and taking a long swell, eyes closed. Poe watched you, his mind still reeling over everything that had occurred in the last day.

You had been acting so much like the you he remembered, the person he’d grown up with-so kind-hearted, understanding. It was overwhelming to try and process what had happened with the pollen while navigating this shift in his relationship with you. For the first time in a long time, Poe felt as though his best friend was coming back to him.

“Did you,” He paused, gauging your reaction to his voice, but you just observed him over your mug, a small smile tugging at your lips. “Did you keep a lot of Charlie’s things?” If you were upset by the question, it didn’t show. You considered his words, nodding.

“I did, at first. I left so quickly that I didn’t have time to grab anything of his...Tommy and Rico boxed everything for me and kept it stored until I was reassigned.” Your expression tightened at the memory, “I had a few weeks off, I planet hopped to some of Charlie’s favourite spots, then once I was settled in at my new assignment had everything brought over. I kept a lot of his shirts, personal effects. Just donated his pants, really.”

Poe smiled, “I guess there were some very happy big and tall men that found those pants at the shelter.” Cheesy, he cringed internally.

But you laughed, a genuine little giggle just for Poe, one he’d heard a million times before but it had been so long, emotion bubbled up within him and his smile faltered; he glanced away, hoping you wouldn’t notice his shift in mood.

“What is it?”

Poe sighed, mildly amused at your familiar behaviour. You never did let him get away with hiding things if you could help it. Rather than explain how much it meant to him to be standing there with you, laughing, he swivelled the conversation, one last thing on his mind.

“I’m going to say something, and then if you want to just close this conversation after I do, I’m good with that, okay?”

You tilted your head curiously, giving him a little nod, “Sure.”

Poe looked away from you, staring down into his mug as he considered how to phrase what he wanted to say. “I know it was the pollen, all of it,” He took a deep breath, willing his brain to make itself useful, “I still need you to hear me say this: the things I said to you during...while we were under it-I wouldn’t ever say anything like that to you, (y/n). They were mean and filthy, crude words I’ve never...would never...not that we would, I mean, shit.” He ran a hand over his face, holding over his forehead as his frustration with himself grew.

“Poe?” You said after a pause, and he glanced up. Your expression was exceptionally understanding, “The same goes for me. The scratching too wasn’t me. And,” Your lips quirked, “I think I called you Commander a few times, and please know I do not call people by their rank during sex, stars.”

Poe chuckled, “Obviously, that would be fucking embarrassing,” Your smile widened at his response. “It’s just important to me that you know I would never think or enjoy saying mean and degrading stuff like that about a woman, about you.”

You nodded and bit your lip, “I’ve always known that, Poe.” Pausing to take another deep drink of your caf, you then pointed with your free hand to your right forearm, “Also, um, I have an implant so we...that is, I’m not going to, uh...” You trailed off awkwardly.

His eyes widened in horror, realizing he hadn’t thought beyond the potential emotional consequences of what had happened. “Shit, are you sure?”

You nodded vigorously when his gaze fell to your stomach before meeting yours again, “No sex pollen babies.” Each of you looked away at the same moment, embarrassed.

After a few minutes of quiet, Poe looked back down at you. You were standing next to him, leant against the counter and staring unseeingly in front of you. “Sweetheart?”

Your eyes refocused and met his, “Y-yeah, Poe?”

He moved slowly, careful not to startle you. Using his free hand, he cupped the back of your head and lowered his own to press your foreheads together, an affectionate display you had both done since you were little. He felt you relax into it, and for a minute everything was quiet and peaceful and safe.

Poe felt like his shattered heart wasn’t in so many pieces anymore.

And then you reached up with your hand and stroked along his jaw one, two, three times. Just like that, he felt you come back to him.

Poe smiled to himself, getting lost in the feeling.

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

#poe dameron x reader #poe dameron x you #poe dameron #poe smut #night changes series #reader insert #poe dameron x female reader #fem reader #angst #friends to lovers #best friends #star wars x reader #star wars series #star wars #multichapter

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missymurphy1985 · 3 years

Text

The Return

It's been 2 years since you were last in Dublin. 2 years since you up and left without warning, saying goodbye to your life there and restarting somewhere completely new. Sometimes, you have to go backwards in order to move forwards.

Requested by @noctvrnalmoth I hope you like it!

*Featuring Jim from the Delinquent Season*

Stepping off the train into the platform, you sighed. It all looked the same, and yet so different. Pulling the buggy open, you gently strapped your sleeping son in and made your way to the taxi rank, your suitcase trailing behind you. A kind lady helped you with your bags and waited with you for an available taxi.

"You look like you have the weight of the world on your shoulders there, are you okay?" She sat next to you on the bench as your son murmured adorably in his sleep. "Sorry, I don't mean to pry..."

"No don't be sorry.. just been a long time since I came back here is all. Few loose ends to tie up." You glanced at your son's sleepy features as his eyes started to open. Beautiful, ocean blue eyes alongside his dark hair, growing more every day... The memories of that night flooding back before you took a large gulp of water from the bottle in your bag, forcing them back down. You'd done so well... 2 years and you'd built a new life in London. New friends, amazing new job allowing you to put that degree in marketing to good use - you were finally making a complete fresh start. But the secrets you had buried deep inside kept coming to the surface the more your son grew. He deserved to know his roots, who his father was, you knew that, but you couldn't do it.

Choking a tear back, you thanked the kind lady for helping you as a taxi pulled up and she helped you to get in.

Pulling up outside your cousin Natalie's townhouse in the city centre, she was waiting for you at the gate to help with Jackson and your bags. Grinning from ear to ear she pulled you in for a huge hug once you'd got inside and settled on her couch as Jackson sat in this new lady's lap tugging at her earrings.

"I can't believe I'm only just meeting him y/n.. he's the image of you!!" She kissed his cheek, bringing him up to look at him properly for the first time not over Skype.

"I never see it, I just see.... I just see him I guess..." You mind wandered to the man you actually saw, but you didn't let it slip.

"Those EYES!!! So blue and vibrant, just beautiful!" Natalie was swooning now, she'd never seen eyes that blue on a baby. Your eyes were brown, so he clearly inherited them from his father, although you had never revealed his identity - just a drunken one night stand and he wasn't involved. You weren't lying, technically...

After catching up properly, Natalie told you she'd planned a few people coming over to welcome you back that evening - nothing major, just a few friends from years ago that were keen to see you after so long away.

"Oh.. yes, that would be nice... Um, who's coming?"

"Well I think David and Amanda, possibly Caroline.. I think Liam is asking Jim too but I'm not sure if he's up for it - he's been through a tough time lately.." you caught a gasp in your throat at the sound of his name. Last you heard, through Natalie, he and Danielle were going through a rough patch. Cheating accusations on both sides, they'd agreed to a trial separation. "Apparently she isn't as broken hearted as once thought - already shacked up with someone new, fancy house on the coast, new Jag on the driveway, she's doing quite well for herself!" Your chin began to wobble, not unnoticed by Natalie, who placed Jackson in his bouncer on the floor and moved to place a hand on your shoulder.

"I'm fine Nat, honestly I'm good. It was a long time ago, things have changed. I'm not that silly little girl with a crush anymore..." Natalie looked into your eyes. Nothing ever got past her.

"Y/n.. when I said I'd never seen eyes that blue, I meant on a baby. Only one person I know has eyes like that, and I think you know too. Tell me the truth, please?" You were frozen, until tears escaped and you couldn't stop them. Jackson looked to see his mum crying and began crying too. Scooping him up, you held him close.

"It happened once... Just once Nat... And he doesn't know and he doesn't need to know, let's just leave it there, yeah?"

"What?? This is Jim's son? I was almost kidding y/n... How could you keep this from him for 2 years??" She was stood up now in complete shock. Jim wasn't just her friend, he was her husband's brother - this made things even more intense. The atmosphere could be cut with a knife.

"Please Nat... This wasn't easy okay? I was 21, I slept with a married man, and I got pregnant... Then mum died.. I had to go back to London to sort out the funeral and the will... I didn't want to be seen as the homewrecker that got herself knocked up..."

"And what about Jackson? Doesn't he deserve to know his father?"

"Of course... And he would.. when I was ready Nat. And I'm not ready..."

"Not ready for what?" Liam, Natalie's husband was stood in the doorway, as you heard the front door close. Now standing next to him was the man you were desperately trying to avoid... Jim stood behind him, eyes wide at the sight of you with a baby in your arms.

"Baby, we need to go pick up that delivery from the post office, remember the one we missed last week?" Natalie pulled a confused Liam out of the room, leaving his brother and you alone.

"Y/n... Hey.. um.. how are you?" You tried to smile in response but your heart was pounding in your chest, you could barely breathe.

"I.. yeah.. um, yeah I'm okay.." you glanced down at his hand.. the wedding ring was gone. "I'm sorry to hear about you and Olivia..."

"Probably for the best eh... We weren't exactly getting along, just stayed together for the kids I think. They're older now though, they're fine. Y/n.. where did you go? Why did you go?"

"My mum was ill... She'd had a stroke and they couldn't save her, I had to go... I just stayed.. and things happened.."

"You had a baby..." He looked at the little boy in your arms, feeling extremely nervous now. "He must be just over a year old, right?" You nodded.

"13 months.."

"And we... We had sex y/n.. the day before you left..." His own breath was faltering now as the dates in his mind started to catch up. Again, you nodded, tears rolling down your cheeks. The realisation of what was happening dawned on Jim. He started to back away, before shaking his head and storming out of the house, the door slamming behind him making you and your son jump.

Your sobs came out in full force now, Liam and Natalie coming back into the room. Liam took Jackson into the kitchen to find him something to eat as Natalie held you.

"It's okay y/n... Give him time yeah? Poor guys just had the shock of his life, he'll come round." Your heart was sinking.. you hadn't meant for any of this to happen, but here it was. The memory of that afternoon had never left you, you hadn't even been able to move on - your son, for starters, looked just like him, how could you find love with anyone with the constant reminder of the man you'd never have around you 24/7.

Flashback

"I'm so sorry Jim, I didn't know who else to call..." You climbed into his car, cheeks burning as he picked you up from outside the pharmacy. You'd been walking along the road when a pothole in the pavement took you by surprise and you'd tripped, your ankle turning funny - the pain was horrific, but no one seemed to be answering your phone calls when you rang around for someone to come pick you up. Reluctantly, you'd dialled Jim's number, your cousin's brother in law. He'd given you his number the previous week, after offering to help you move into your new apartment later that month.

"No problem, I was just dropping the kids at school so I was only round the corner." He helped you into the car and drove you back to his house. "I figured your place is in boxes, no chance of a first aid kit either, I'm guessing?"

"No," You laughed. "Thank you so much.." you grimaced as you turned your foot round, trying to ease the pain.

"Definitely not broken, just need to rest it. I'll put the kettle on." Jim led you into the kitchen and sat you down at the kitchen table, and grabbed an ice pack from the fridge. Lifting your leg onto the chair opposite, he placed the ice pack onto your ankle. "Feeling okay?" He asked, flicking the kettle on and preparing two mugs of coffee.

"Much better.. thank you." Definitely better.. the physical contact from him was driving you insane, you had to swallow the blushes in your cheeks, praying he hadn't noticed.

"I've only got instant coffee... Hope that's okay - Danielle won't let me buy a coffee machine." He rolled his eyes. His wife was one of the tightest women he'd ever met.

"It's fine, thank you.. and I honestly can't thank you enough for coming to get me.. I can't believe how clumsy I am!"

"Hey those pavements are a nightmare - I'm surprised no one's broken a leg yet! Don't you be moving now, I'll take you back home once that swelling has gone down."

"How did you know how to fix it all?"

"I have a son, y/n, who at one stage a few years ago thought he was an actual superhero and would fling himself off anything to check if he could fly.. you learn the difference between a broken ankle and a twisted one pretty quick!" He laughed, remembering the time his son climbed the tallest tree in the park, giving him a heart attack before throwing himself from the top - luckily Jim caught him before he hit the floor.

"I think it's better now, Jim, I can try and walk." You said, after chatting for a while in the large kitchen.

"Let me help you.." he held your hands and guided you upright, your chests now pressed together as you placed your foot gingerly on the floor, testing it's strength. Stumbling slightly, Jim caught you, your bodies now even closer together. You could feel his heart racing, could he feel yours? His hands wrapping around yours, holding you up, an arm snaking round your waist. You looked up and found him looking right back at you, your face inches from his. Before you had time to think, you kissed him, before quickly pulling back.

"Shit I'm sorry... Oh god.. no... I'm sorry..." He took your hand in his and pulled you back to him, pressing his lips back to yours. This time you didn't pull back, your mouth opening allowing his tongue to dance against yours. Lifting you up, he sat you on top of the counter, his hands roaming your body hungrily.

"I can't... I shouldn't..." He murmured against your neck, the vibrations driving you wild with need. "You're so fucking beautiful y/n..." He ground your hips against yours, you could feel his erection through his jeans as you reached down to cup it through them, kneading it slightly. He growled, pulling your hand up to his chest, his heart hammering underneath his shirt. "You feel that? Feel how fast that's going?" Silently you took his hand and placed against your chest.

"Feel mine...." You pushed his hand down lower.. over your breast... Down your stomach and under the waistband of your skirt. His fingers found your folds, and he gasped your name. "I'm wet... I'm so fucking wet..." Lifting your skirt up, he pulled your underwear down. You relieved him of his jeans and they fell to the floor, revealing no underwear, just his huge, hard cock already leaking.

"I see you are too..." You ran a finger along the slit, taking some of the precum and lifting it to your mouth. "You taste good..."

"You want this...?" He asked, lining himself up against you. You nodded, and he pushed in easily, you gasped his name and threw your head back as he filled you completely. Pulling on your hips, he rocked you against him as he moved his own hips back and forth, fucking you against the countertop. You legs wrapped round his waist as his thrusts came harder, deeper, faster.

"Fuck... Right there... Jim... Oh god...." He bit down on your exposed neck, hands pushing against your still covered breasts, he moaned.

"Feels so good y/n... You feel so good... That's it baby, I need to feel you... Cum for me..." You leaned back, and eyes locked with his you drew a hand down to circle your clit as he moved inside you.

"Gonna make myself cum on you... Gonna cum hard for you... Faster Jim..." He pounded into you now, your moans echoing through the kitchen as you came over him, his release following seconds later. Both of you leaned your heads together as your worlds came back into focus.

Present Day

"Hey."

"Hey.." you'd agreed to meet Jim for a coffee a few days later. He'd called you the evening before, slightly tipsy which made you chuckle. Liam and Natalie were watching Jackson while the two of you caught up.

"How's the hangover?" You smiled, he grimaced.

"Well I've definitely felt fresher.. it was a bit of a shock y/n..."

"Listen.. for what it's worth.. I'm sorry. I didn't know I was pregnant until I was nearly 20weeks. With the stress of losing mum and the funeral, I hadn't had a period for a while but I thought it was just the stress.. then my friend convinced me to take a test and the doctors confirming it.. it was too late to do anything about it.. then I heard you and Danielle were trying for another baby and I just couldn't do it Jim.. I couldn't destroy your life like that.." your hands were shaking. He leaned over and took your hands in his.

"I understand y/n.. I do. I spent most of this week thinking about it. I don't blame you for what you did.. but I do wish you'd told me."

"I'd done enough damage Jim, sleeping with a married man? On his kitchen counter where he makes his kids breakfast? Where his wife makes her coffee in the morning? I couldn't face you.. I couldn't face what I'd done.."

"You know where my wife was, that morning?" He leaned back, smiling a little. "At her office, bent over the desk while her boss fucked her from behind. She called my number by accident while it happened. I didn't answer, obviously, I was busy.. but my voicemail picked up the whole thing. I'd had my suspicions for a long time, but that confirmed it. We were never trying for another baby - that's just what she told people to distract them from the fact we were clearly falling apart at the seams. Couldn't exactly be mad at her after what I'd done with you though."

"Did you tell her?"

"Yes, but she didn't know it was you. Then you up and left.. I thought there was no need to tell her who it was. I guess now we kinda have to, right?"

"Jim, I don't expect anything from you, okay? I have an inheritance from my mum, I'm fine for money, there's no need to be involved if it'll cause you problems.."

"No. You've kept him from me for nearly 2 years y/n, don't do this again, please? I'm not asking you to move in, I'm not asking for a relationship, I just want to get to know our boy.. that's all.. please?" You saw it in his eyes. It was there, for all to see. Was it love?

"I'll call Nat.. ask her to bring him over, maybe we could go for a walk?" Jim smiled, nodding. You made the call, and an hour later you were walking to the local park, Jim pushing the stroller. He took Jackson out of the buggy and placed him inside a baby swing, pushing him gently while pulling silly faces making him giggle. Your heart swelled watching them.

"He's incredible.. those eyes.."

"Your eyes, Jim." He looked up at you and smiled listening to his son's giggle, before he started becoming grouchy again.

"He's teething... Come on little man, let's get you back shall we?" Jim lifted him from the swing and placed his little finger in Jackson's mouth. He responded by sucking his gums along it, finding relief. You smiled, watching Him soothe your son's whimpers of pain as his teeth came through.

Making your way inside Natalie's house, you were surprised to find it empty. A note on the kitchen counter read that they'd gone out for the afternoon, they wouldn't be home until the evening. You warmed a bottle of milk for Jackson as Jim gave him some Calpol. Taking the bottle from you, he fed his son, as you watched, heart pounding as you watched the man you were still in love with take such good care of your baby. Within 15 minutes, Jackson was fed and had been rocked to sleep in his father's arms, you took him and placed him upstairs in his cot to nap. You knew he'd be out for at least an hour after all that fresh air. Walking back into the lounge, you found Jim sat on the sofa waiting for you.

"Come here, y/n..." You sat next to him as he turned to face you, hand gently caressing your cheek. "What are we going to do now?"

"I'm heading back to London tomorrow Jim..." His eyes glistened slightly. He'd just found his son, and now he was going again. He'd just got you back in his life, and now you were disappearing again...

"What can I do to make you stay?" His question took you by surprise. Stay?

"Jim, I..."

"I haven't stopped thinking about you.. about what happened 2 years ago. How long I'd wanted you, how long I'd dreamt of you, how I still dream of you even now.. and we share a son y/n.. I can't let you go again, it'd break me.."

"I'm half your age Jim! I'm barely older than your eldest child, how can this possibly work?" He answered with a kiss. Leaning forward to take your mouth against his, without thinking you returned it, linking your fingers with his as he pulled you into his lap.

"It'll work because we'll make it work.. nothing else matters.. all of that other stuff is irrelevant.." he felt you grind your hips against his and his erection was burning against his jeans. He needed you, now.

"And Danielle?"

"Is fucking a man old enough to be her own father - opinion invalid. I don't care about her, I care about you.. please.." he was aware of how desperate he sounded but he didn't care. He had his hand under your t-shirt against your breast, no bra in the way this time. Lifting you up, he carried you upstairs to the guest room you were staying in, and laid you down softly on the bed underneath him.

"Birth control?" He looked at you, smiling.

"The coil - don't worry, I'm covered this time.." You smiled back as he lifted your t-shirt over your head and kissed you again. The reason for being at the pharmacy 2 years ago was to collect your prescription for the pill - you'd not taken it for a couple of days after running out suddenly. After Jackson was born, you switched to a more efficient form of birth control.

Pulling your skirt down and off, along with your underwear, he nestled his face between your thighs, now parted by his hands.

"I want you to watch me y/n... Watch me as I make you cum..." Your core burning, you raised yourself up on your elbows as he blew a hot breath against your wet folds, causing you to shiver under him. He parted your lips with his fingers, before licking from your pulsing hole up to your clit, finding a rhythm that made you cry out and shudder underneath his tongue. Smiling, groaning into you, you tried to keep your eyes on him as he licked and sucked your throbbing clit in his mouth.

"Jim.. don't stop.. oh god..." You hadn't had sex since that afternoon 2 year ago, no one being good enough to compete with the man currently buried between your legs. No pleasure you'd given yourself since was a patch on this, and you felt that burning feeling in your stomach starting to rise. "I'm close... Mm... Fuck I'm close..." Your words barely a whisper but he heard them, pushing harder with his tongue as a finger entered you, hooking upwards to find that spot inside, the one you didn't think actually existed, but there it was.. you bucked against his mouth, coming hard and fast - you felt your liquids gush over his chin, there was no stopping them... "Aha... Oh god Jim... Fuck... Stop, it's too much..." He smiled, blowing another warm breath over you before moving back to your mouth. You could taste yourself on his lips, turning you on even more.

Flipping him onto his back, you lifted his clothes off him and kissed down his chest. Your core needed a breather before you took him inside you. Licking the top of his now rock hard cock, you slowly sank your lips down, taking him fully inside your mouth. You'd never had a strong gag reflex, and you enjoyed the feeling of his cock hitting the back of your throat.

"Holy fuck... Jesus y/n... That's it baby..." Up and down your head bobbed, swapping between hard and light sucks, your teeth gently scraping the underside of his cock and your fingers lightly playing with his balls underneath you. Every time you felt them tighten, you'd ease off, allowing him to catch his breath, before bringing him into your mouth again. After a few near explosions, he couldn't take anymore and lifted you off motioning for you to sit on him. "Ride me y/n..." You smiled, and sank your pussy onto him, allowing him to fill you. Slowly so as to adjust to his length, your hips moved, back and forth, up and down, finding the right rhythm for you both. He sat up, chests together and his hands under your thighs as he rotated his hips from underneath, driving his cock against that magical spot again.

"Yes... God that feels good... Jim..."

"I'm not gonna last long y/n..."

"That's okay.. we've got plenty of time to make up for this... Cum in me, give me all of you..." You felt his cock twitch inside you as he moved your hips faster. Leaning back, you rode him hard, the bed frame squeaking underneath as you both cried out, your climaxes arriving simultaneously. Coming back to rest your head against his, you clenched your core once more causing him to gasp as you drew yourself off him slowly. Lay down next to each other, he pulled you into his arms.

"Did you mean what you said?" He asked, kissing your head gently. "Plenty of time?"

"I meant it, Jim... I need to get back to London to sort a few things, put my flat up for sale.. my job... But yes. If you'll have us, we'll come back.." you looked into his eyes. He lifted your head to kiss you and you felt it. All the love you thought you'd never find, in the man you thought you'd never find it with.

Everything was going to be fine, you couldn't wait to start your life over again, this time for the last time.

@margoo0 @queenshelby @peakyscillian @cloudofdisney @ntmynouis @being-worthy

#delinquent season #jim delinquent season x y/n #cillian smut #cillian x fem!reader #cillian murphy #cillian x smut

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george-fabian-weasley · 3 years

Text

Fred Weasley — Helplessly pt. 4

Summary: After the Battle of Hogwarts, Fred was rushed into the muggle hospital for better treatment of his injuries. While in a coma, his soul stayed with you for a couple of months. He watches as you went through the stages. And he watched when you started to write a song, just for him.

Words: 2,470 words

Warnings: Angst, Genuine Heartbreak, Nightmares, Fred Cries so It’s Bad

Disclaimer: I haven’t updated Helplessly in so long, so hello!!! This chapter is more to a filler chapter, as we follow Y/N in more depth of their relationship with the twins! Hope you enjoy, lovies!

TAGLIST FOR HELPLESSLY: HERE

PART 1 | PART 2 | PART 3 | PART 4| PART 5 (COMING SOON!)

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

CHAPTER 4: Instant Coffee

Fred opened his eyes to you, screaming.

He had slipped into bed a few hours ago, trying his best to comfort your fragile self who cried yourself to sleep. He had his hand ghosting on your cheek the entire time, heart wrenching at every single tear that went past his thumb. He hadn’t realized he fell asleep, he never thought he could, somehow being home with you brought him comfort. It was a sad comfort as both of you couldn’t stop crying, but it was comfort, nevertheless.

You were screaming with your eyes forced shut, and Fred had never felt more heartbroken that he couldn’t do anything to help calm you down. At least at the hospital, you had Hermione to give you a comforting hug and reassuring back rubs. But with him being invisible and you alone inside a dark house, Fred felt useless.

“Y/N, darling, I’m here, I’m here!!” Fred tried, however, shouting at the top of his lungs to get you to hear him. You were sweating cold, keeping on the heart-wrenching screaming. At that moment, Fred panicked, he didn’t know what to do, he had forgotten what he was.

So he wrapped his arms around you.

You opened your eyes at the feeling of someone hugging you, you felt their hand caressing the back of your head. And you instantly knew who it was. You recognized his warmth.

“You’re fine, Y/N. I’m here, love, I’m here.” The moment you heard his voice, you burst into tears, hugging him back instantly. Fred felt his heart flutter at your touch, he hadn’t felt your skin on his for a long while-

Wait a second.

Fred felt his stomach hollowing as he realized what was going on. He could touch you. You could see him. When he realized that, he hugged your tighter, “Oh Merlin, thank you, thank you, thank you.”

In his head raced a million wonders of how he could touch you happened, but he brushed them away because he’s here and you could see him. And that’s all that matters at the moment.

He pulled away from the hug and looked at you, a scoff of amazement escaped his lips as he realized he was cupping your face. You were still crying; your heart was hurting so bad.

“Oh, Freddie, I just had the worst nightmare.” You sobbed as he kissed your eyes. “What did you dream of, love?” He softly asked, not caring about anything else but touching you. Oh, how he yearned this for as long as he could. He could feel his heart almost beating out of his throat, the happiness he felt at the moment was unparalleled.

“I-I had a dream that there’s a war at Hogwarts and you got injured. You were injured so bad that you got into a coma and-and you’re not waking up! I-I can’t lose you again, Freddie, I can’t.”

Fred’s heart dropped. You thought it was a nightmare. You thought the war didn’t happen.

You thought it was all a dream.

Fred gulped down slowly, trying to gulp down the tears brimming in his eyes at the same time. The bitter truth had never felt so painful. He had never seen you so distraught, and he didn’t have the heart to say anything. You looked so relieved that it was all a dream, or at least that’s what you thought.

“Y/N. My darling. My sunshine.” He softly spoke. You sniffed and looked at him in the eyes, those eyes that are filled with love and adoration just for you. There was silence for a while, and Fred couldn’t contain his tears any longer. He wanted to say everything, just everything before it was too late. But Fred found himself speechless as he locked eyes with you.

You looked so happy that he was there with you. You looked so innocent and fragile and… beautiful.

He saw how your eyebrows furrow at the tears running down his face, so he distracted you by leaning down and kiss you. The kiss was hungry, emotional, painful yet full of love all at the same time. Fred kissed you like it was his last day, as he didn’t know when else is he going to kiss you like this again. You could feel his desperate lips engulfing yours, trying to express everything he wants to say without words.

Of how much he loves you, and how much he wants you to be happy.

The kiss felt salty, somehow his tears were heavy and trickled down to his lips, making you both taste the salty substance. Suddenly Fred felt nervous, he felt like his golden time with you is about to end. He quietly whimpered at the thought, his heart for the nth time cracking down.

So when he pulled away, he only said one thing.

“Stay with mum, Y/N. Stay with her, for me.”

With tears rolling down his face, and a soft smile on his lips, he watched your eyes widening slowly. You looked horrified, and he knew what it meant. “W-wait, what?”

You couldn’t see him again.

“No, no. Fred, what? Fred?!”

He was right there, still in the same position, and yet he disappeared from your view. “No, no, no, you can’t do this to me, Fred! You can’t just appear in front of me and disappear just like that!”

Tears streaming down your face as the sounds of loud sobs escaped your mouth. You smacked a fist to your chest, the place where your heart was, “Where did you go? Where in the bloody hell did you go, Freddie?” You wailed down, your fist smacking your chest a few more times, in hopes that could replace the turning of daggers inside your heart.

He didn’t go anywhere, he was right there, watching you. He closed his eyes shut at the sound of your ugly sobs, his whole body trembling from the cries that erupted from his chest. He couldn’t see you cry because of him again; it hurts. It… It hurts a lot.

With a weak whimper as he hears your breakdown yet again, “I’m here, darling,” Silent sobs merged harmoniously with loud cries.

You woke up breathing heavily. You sat up straight as soon as you opened your eyes, panting as if you had just finished a marathon. Cold sweats were all over your body, wetting your bed slightly. You kept breathing to your mouth, your eyes widened in disbelief.

It was a different dream.

For a whole week, your dreams were finding Fred at the Great Hall, with a ghostly smile on his lips, lifeless. But your dream just now… It’s… It’s…

You didn’t know if it was better… Or worse.

The dream was so vivid, and you could remember Fred saying words as clear as day. Your heart hurts at the thought of his soul visiting you while you sleep, as his body at the hospital, struggling to cure itself. You peeped at the alarm clock; it was 4 in the morning, 12th of May 1998. Approximately, 10 days after the Battle of Hogwarts

Only one thing was registered to your mind, ‘George.’

Without any time wasted, you found yourself Apparating to George’s apartment, which was just above the Weasley’s Wizard Wheezes.

“Y/N? It’s 4 am, what-“ Was George’s words after he had opened the door to you who was knocking on it hastily. You didn’t let him finish his words as you slid into his apartment, your mind was still a mess due to your dream. Without any other words, you made your way to the kitchen, pulling two sachets of instant coffee, both for yourself.

“Y/N, what’s going on? Why are you here?” You heard George’s footsteps from behind you. You had your back against him, facing the slowly heating kettle on the stove. You were jumping your knee constantly, your fingernails continuously tapped against the tile surface.

George, being the observant lad he is, noticed your body language, and he softened up to the possibility that you were shaken by something. His hair was tousled messily-he did just wake up after all-and his shirt loosely hang around his body.

“Y/N…” You noticed the change of tone in his voice, and you closed your eyes in a grimace. “What’s going on?” Simultaneously, the kettle let out a high pitched scream and you turned the stove off, pouring the hot water into the mug you had set up earlier. George noticed your hand shakily holding up the kettle, it was as if you were containing something inside you that could explode any moment.

So, George tried again, “Hey-“ “He visited me.”

George furrowed his eyebrows, not quite catching your quiet words, “What?” You turned to him, leaning against the kitchen counter with your hands holding the coffee mug, the eye bags beneath your eyes looked so dark and tired, “He visited me, just now.”

George shook his head, hoping that would throw his confusion and dizziness away, “Wha- Who did?”

“Fred.”

Upon hearing his brother’s name, George frowned. He observed you again, your hands shakily brought the mug to your lips, sipping the cheap caffeine into your system. Your knee had stopped jumping, but your sock-covered feet kept fidgeting. George took a seat at the pantry stool, he’s wide awake now.

“What do you mean?” George asked.

You followed him and sat across him, your hands still wrapped tightly around the mug, bringing you temporary comfort at the warmth. George could tell that you had a lot in your mind, your eyes wavering, your deep breathing, you were a wrecked mess.

“You know how these days I got dreams of him at the Great Hall?” You started, and George nodded wordlessly. Almost everybody knew of your nightmare, Hermione had told him when it first happened and he had witnessed it a couple of times, him waking up suddenly to you screaming with your eyes closed shut, only to cry on Hermione’s shoulders later. Fred’s condition took a heavy toll on all of you, but you especially. Ever since in Hogwarts, you and Fred depended on each other, and George loved that for Fred. Your presence alone made Fred calmer and happier.

And now knowing that his brother is in a coma with a risky chance of him waking up, and his best friend frantically suffering emotionally and physically for a painful love, it put George in a very hard position.

“I had a different dream this time, after almost two weeks dreaming of the same thing.” You said, and George perked up, “What dream was it?”

“H-he… he was there when I woke up from another nightmare. It’s… It’s like he never left. He hugged me and he kissed me, b-but he was crying.” Your eyebrows were furrowed as you told George. The dream had been so vivid and so real you were doubting if it was a dream at all. The ache in your heart was amplified by the thought of the dream being completely real and… Fred actually did visit you.

“And, and he told me to stay with Molly, for him. Before he disappeared and I woke up.”

There was silence for a moment. George was trying to process things, reaching his hand to your mug subconsciously and took a sip. You didn’t mind, you always did that with Fred and George, share food and beverages, especially at Hogwarts.

“How are you feeling?” George finally asked, and you took a deep, shaky breath. You tried to force a smile to comfort him, yet George saw right through you. “Conflicted? Dumbfounded? Heartbroken? Shaken? Happy that I finally got to see him actually not dying whenever I close my eyes?” You muttered loud enough for you two to hear, your eyes staring at the wall behind George.

“Can I choose all of the above?” You asked, finally looking at the ginger in front of you. George scoffed a small smile, pleased at your weak attempt of a joke. “It could be just a dream.” He said carefully, not wanting to hurt your feelings.

You nodded, “I know the possibility is there. But Fred was right there in front of me, hugging me and kissing me. He even told me to stay with Molly. It’s just… It’s just a too big of a coincidence for it to be a pointless dream, George.” George nodded in understanding and sighed, “Might as well listen to the bloke.”

You frowned at George, “What? No-“ “Y/N, you are not ready to live alone in that house. You won’t be fine if you keep it this way.” George cut you off, his stern voice caught you off-guard. George had always been a soft-spoken person, at least to you personally upon knowing him since you were 11. Usually, the stern one in the friendship was Fred. But he’s not here, so George felt obliged to take matters into his hands to take care of you.

He sighed at your awestruck expression, “Just give it a try for a few days. Waking up to a warm crowd of people you know almost all your life is better than waking up alone in a cold space.”

George was right. And you hated that he was right. You quietly stood up from the stool and went to open the sliding door, the view was showing the whole Diagon Alley in dim light. You took a seat and looked up to the sky, it was a full moon.

“Fine,” You sighed, “When do we leave?” George finished the mug of coffee, eyes wide awake at the caffeine knocking the door to his systems. “Reckon Mum won’t be awake at this hour, maybe at 8?” He said, staring at your back quietly and you brought your knees to your chest.

“We have 4 hours left and we already had coffee, what do you think we should do?”

George smiled gently at the sight of your figure, his heart weirdly aching at the thought of you missing his brother terribly. He missed Fred too, more than anything in the whole wide world, but he also misses you.

The figure before him isn’t you. You used to be filled with energy and full of brilliant ideas, having a heart of gold and wit of a clown. Never once a day passed at Hogwarts without you constantly singing ‘Good morning’ to the boys’ ears whenever they had breakfast together, which was all the time. If there was one thing George absolutely loved about you, it would be your silly optimism.

But now.

“Mind helping me clean the apartment? The laundry was stacking up like crazy,” George said, his heart gently warming at the sight of you standing up and giving him a ghost of a smile, yet a smile nevertheless, “Where did you store the mop?”

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

@paigeyisme @britishspidey @hargreevesgrace @jasminweasley @neutralgoodval @kaidenceweasley @igotabadfeelingabouteverything @123happyllama @nicole-prz @phuvioqhile @ionlycamehereforfanfics @martalol @mccloudchloe @hufflepuffzutara @weasleysangel @missmulti @staygoldsquatchling02 @i-bitch-you-bitch @weewoo2209 @fredsbetch @nj01 @lilypad-55449 @sunflower-of-steel @renupf @m1rkw00dpr1ncess @sarcasticallywitty15 @acciosiriusblack @thefanfichub @thatone1fangirl

PART 5: COMING SOON!

TAGLIST:

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poedameronloverx · 3 years

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Who’s Looking After You?

Life in Lockdown - Masterlist

Poe Dameron x F Solo Reader

Hey everyone! Hope you’ve all had a lovely week. Here is the next part of my series.

Big mentions of covid again this week so if that’s going to upset you then I full understand if you want to give this a miss. Also mentions of anxiety.

But we also have more of reader bonding with BeeBee and a nice wee heart to heart between her and Poe. And then there’s Finn asking the questions we all want the answer to!

Month 3 – May 2020

Rose's illness came and went without too much drama. Her symptoms suggested COVID but she hadn't been as ill with it as a lot of other people had. Poe had a few symptoms too, they started off pretty mild. He decided to stay in the house just incase so you had taken over BeeBee's walks. The little dog was confused at first, wondering why his best friend wasn't walking him but he soon got used to it and was happy to be out with you. You and Rose were taking turns to look after Poe. Finn was still keeping out of the way due to his work, so the two of you were working around one another and your work schedules to check on how Poe was feeling. After a few days he started to feel worse, his throat was sore and he had no energy. You made him soup and checked in to make sure he was looking after himself.

“Sweetheart, you're going to get sick” he protested as you moved his pillows around to help him get comfortable.

“I'm not worried about me, I'm worried about you!” you replied “And I'm going to continue to worry about you and take care of you until you're back to your normal self!”

You fussed around him some more, making sure he had everything he needed before you had to head back to your desk for a zoom meeting.

“So, when are we going to talk about it?” Finn asked, a few nights later as you sat down to dinner with him and Rose.

“Talk about what?” you asked

“This sexual tension between you and Poe”

“Excuse me?”

“Oh come on! You can't pretend, it's so obvious that you like him and it's obvious that he likes you so once he's better you should do something about it!”

“Wait, did he say something?” Rose asked “Because you didn't tell me he liked her back!”

“Hold on!” you butted in “You told Finn?”

“I'm sorry! I know I should've kept my mouth shut but it's Finn and he promised me he wouldn't tell Poe!”

“And I didn't!” Finn replied “But I just think you two deserve to be happy and being together would obviously make both of you happy!”

“You guys need to stop getting involved. Poe doesn't like me in that way and that's totally fine. He's my friend and I don't want to lose that if you guys make this awkward so please stop!”

“We won't make it awkward” Rose replied “We won't say another thing”

You couldn't sleep that night, everything Finn had said was going round on loop in your head. BeeBee slept soundly at the foot of the bed, he'd taken to sleeping in your room most nights. You climbed out of bed and looked out the window. The rain was falling onto the peaceful street. It had been raining for a few hours and puddles had already formed everywhere. You decided to head downstairs to get a glass of water, the lack of sleep was beginning to annoy you. When you walked into the living room, you were startled to see a figure sat on the couch.

“Poe? What are you doing up?”

“Couldn't sleep” he replied “I'm feeling a lot better so I figured there was no harm in having a little wander round the house since everyone was in bed!”

“As long as you’re alright” you replied

“I am, wanna sit with me for a while? You’ve been taking care of me so you’ve probably passed any risk of catching this”

“Yeah, may as well since I’m wide awake”

You could feel him staring at you, he hadn't put the lights on in the living room. Only the small lamp in the dining room was giving any light.

“Tell me honestly, are you doing okay? You had all the stress with your dad being ill, then you looked after Rose and now you’re looking after me. Who’s looking after you sweetheart”

“Honestly Poe, I’m fine. Keeping busy keeps my mind off of not being able to see my family. I like looking after you guys. I enjoy walking Bee, I like making the soups you’ve taught me and when I’m not working I like cooking dinner for us all”

“You’re too good to us. Even just letting Finn and I move in and completely throw your life into even more chaos by taking over your home”

You glanced at him and smiled.

“I like having you here” you replied “It’s good to have a group to hang out with. Rose and I would bicker about stupid stuff when we just spent weekends together. We would’ve been a nightmare alone for all these weeks. I like being able to spend time with her but then have the option to walk away from her and hang out with you. I’m not going to lie and say these past few weeks have been easy and amazing because they haven’t, they’ve sucked. Not knowing if my dad was going to be alright or not whilst not being able to see my mum was torture. Then Rose getting ill and now you, I feel like I’ve constantly been worried and my anxiety has been terrible but I really am alright”

“Can we make a deal then?” Poe asked

“What kind of deal?”

“Well I’m worried about you and how much you’ve taken on, so how about once a week you have an evening to yourself? Run a bath, or just have a lie down. Whatever you want. It would just make me feel better to know that you were taking a break!”

“Alright, deal” you replied “Now tell me what else is on that mind of yours?”

“What do you mean?”

“Well Poe Dameron, I can basically see the cogs turning under that beautiful hair of yours. So tell me what's on your mind”

He sighed “My work is struggling. The pandemic has hit us hard and they don't know if we'll be able to keep going. I might lose my job”

“Oh Poe, I'm so sorry. Is that why they stopped you guys working from home?”

“Yeah, there wasn't enough work for us so they told us not to bother. We're still going to get paid for now but I really don't know how long that's going to last for”

“I'm sure something else will come up” you replied “And if not, you know we're all here for you. You'll never find yourself out on the street”

“Thank you sweetheart, that really means the world to me!”

A few days later, you were getting ready to take BeeBee his walk. You’d been working that morning, once you’d finished you had time to make a pot of soup for lunch, re-organise the living room and dust every surface in the room. BeeBee was very set in his ways and always knew when it was walk time. He wouldn’t let anyone forget it either, his usual tactic was slowly wandering over to where you were and nudging your ankle with his nose. You were just putting your coat on when Poe walked into the room.

“I’m feeling much better and I’m going stir crazy in this house. Fancy some company?”

“I dunno, what do you think BeeBee, should we let your dad tag along? He might cramp our style!”

The Corgi wagged his tail with excitement when he saw his best friend was ready to take him out for the first time in over a week. BeeBee had always enjoyed the attention you gave him whenever you went to see Poe and Finn, or if they’d brought him over, but living together had meant you and the little dog had bonded a lot more, especially when you had to walk him. He was spending a lot of time with you rather than Poe.

“I think he’s alright with it” you chuckled

“I think he’s replacing me” Poe pouted “You’re now his favourite person in the world”

“I mean, can you blame him? I’m awesome!”

“That’s true! But don’t let your head get too big or you won’t fit out the front door!”

Rose wandered into the room, she smiled when she saw Poe putting his coat on.

“You’re feeling better! That’s great”

“Much better. And I absolutely cannot wait to go outside”

“Enjoy the fresh air! But remember if it’s too much, you need to rest”

“I will Rose, thanks. I’m sure Y/N will take care of me and make sure I’m not over doing it”

“Damn right I will”

The walk was nice, you took it at a slow pace so Poe wouldn’t get tired too quickly. BeeBee seemed to have an extra spring in his step now that his dad was back walking him. You did a lap round the park before Poe said he was tired. You found a bench and let him sit down whilst you threw a ball for BeeBee. When the dog got bored of the game you sat down next to Poe.

“You doing okay?”

“I’m fine sweetheart, thanks”

“Do you fancy a coffee or anything?”

“Nah, just your company is enough for me”

You ducked your head, hoping he wouldn’t see your embarassment. You smiled as BeeBee ran around chasing after a bird that just wanted to sit on the grass. May had been an extremely difficult month with Rose and Poe both being ill, Poe’s job being at risk and not being able to go and help your mum look after your dad. 6 weeks of being in lockdown had been hard, your anxiety was flaring worse than ever and some days felt more of a struggle than others. You were glad to be with your friends and BeeBee. Facetime had been a lifeline to keep in touch with your parents, your brother and sister in law and your two nephews. You just hoped it wouldn’t be too long until you could see them in person.

So thats us for this week. I hope if you read it you enjoy it and as always your comments and suggestions would mean the world to me. I’m kinda lagging behind with where I wanted to be with this series in terms of how many chapters ahead I had written so if you guys have any suggestions of things you’d like me to write in this then please do let me know <3

#poe dameron x reader #Poe Dameron x Solo!Reader #Poe Dameron x F!Reader #tw: covid19 #tw: covid #tw: anxiety

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tarysande · 4 years

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It’s the Dose that Makes the Poison: Lucifer Thoughts and Speculation

I’m going to throw the entirety of this under a cut because spoilers. I’ve been rearranging the pieces on the table and I have some meta and a plausible(?) theory about how things might shake out.

...this is almost four thousand words long, and frankly? I feel I’ve barely grazed the surface.

Also, I put it on AO3 for ease of reading and/or in case anyone wants to have, idk, threaded conversations ;D

Okay. Here are a bunch of the pieces. (Or the piece is here, as it were.)

First: The show has always been about redemption; the showrunners throw that word around all the time. Second: I don’t think we’re going to see an endgame or a narrative where God is evil. So, how to make the concept of literal Hell work, then? How to explain or justify the idea of a father who a) kicked his kid out of the house and sent him to Hell for-literal-ever and b) created children for specific “of God” purposes.

Hell

In 5x01, Lee says, “Whose Hell is this, anyway?” and ... I think that’s the crux of the matter. In S3, Lucifer realizes he gave himself the face of a monster because he felt monstrous. But the truth is, he didn’t just give himself the face.

He gave himself the place, too. 5x01 is littered with clues that indicate this. Lucifer says “you to your torture and me to mine.” Lee’s entire speech—the one that pushes all Lucifer’s buttons because of course Lucifer’s projecting all over Lee’s “worst memory”—might as well be Lucifer talking to himself (not unlike Uriel in Lucifer’s hell loop). You know, the part of Lucifer that’s starting to understand all the psychological stuff Linda’s been yammering on about.

Lucifer created Hell. To torture himself for what he believes he did. He created the mechanism that you can walk out any time you like—but no one ever does. None of the doors are locked, right?

On some level, Lucifer, who is all about fairness and justice, looked at what he did and decided the Hell as we’ve seen it was the appropriate punishment. And with Lee, Lucifer almost figures out that the goal of “Hell” isn’t to eternally loop through guilt-fueled self-torture but to forgive yourself and apologize or make amends or not repeat the mistakes. Most of all, learn that nothing changes if you stay in the loop and the only way to break the loop is to take risk that you might fuck up and do something that you feel guilty for again.

Names/Family

Something that’s always jumped out at me is that no matter how many millennia have passed, Lucifer—to whom nicknames and names are canonically really goddamned important—always refers to his family by their familial connection to him “brother, sister, Mum, Dad.” When he banished himself from Heaven—and I’m starting to think he did—he didn’t stop feeling like he was a part of his family. Even when he wanted to eat Amenadiel’s heart someday, he still called him “brother.” Even when Uriel was threatening Chloe (and Mum), he was still “brother.”

For that matter, isn’t it interesting that all Lucifer’s estranged siblings refer to him by the name he chose for himself—not the one he was given? Except, of course, when they want to hurt him. We’ve known since what, S1? That Lucifer cannot abide the name Samael. Even Uriel calls him Lucifer. Or Luci. Mum calls him Lucifer. Lucifer was given Poison of God and he chose Bringer of Light. And everyone who loved (and loves) him said, “All right. Lucifer it is.” And though Lucifer is originally a little eye-rolly with nicknames—Luce, Luci—it’s fond, not the “I’m going to rip out your spine and beat you to death with it” response Samael elicits. Essentially, Samael is Lucifer’s deadname. And people who use intentionally are dismissing and rejecting the identity Lucifer chose, which is vile.

When I was researching/writing Taking the Fall and I knew I wanted to talk about the name thing, I came across this quotation ascribed to Paracelsus, and it really resonated: “All things are poison, and nothing is without poison, the dosage alone makes it so a thing is not a poison.” The dosage, in fact, is the difference between whether something is a poison or a cure. And if that doesn’t align with the themes of the show, I don’t know what does.

Lucifer has spent all this time thinking he is a poison; he has never imagined that he might be a cure. (To angels embracing their free will; to ending the sharp black and white segregation between Heaven and Hell; to darkness, to fear. Yet the more Lucifer learns and the healthier he gets, the more we see cures in what he does: i.e., Brody and also, you know, solving crimes.)

Michael, on the other hand, means “Who is like God?” It’s meant to be a rhetorical question, but in the universe of the show, I think Michael’s twisted version is that he used the question “Who is like God?” to plant the seed of Lucifer’s rebellion ... and is now answering the question “Who is like God?” with the reply, “I am."

Maze

But just in case we head too far down the Lucifer is Great line of thinking, we’ve got a big old example of how he’s still a poison, too.

Contrast this discussion of family with the lesson Lucifer still needs to learn about Maze—he’s managed to absorb that she’s not his servant anymore, but he’s still clinging to that soulless demon/just a demon dismissiveness. And despite self-worth coming from within, bitches, Maze still hasn’t truly absorbed that. She still looks outside for validation—and resents or backslides when she doesn’t get it. Especially from Lucifer. Because Lucifer was the first being to treat her like she mattered. She admires him. Looks up to him. Loves him. In many ways, Maze is the shadow of Chloe—drawn to Lucifer but never, from his perspective, his equal or his partner.

And he, for all the strides he’s made, still default to “demon” as derogatory and dismissive. Something she can’t transcend, even though all the evidence suggests the contrary. As long as Lucifer sees Maze as just a demon, she can’t truly escape from that identity.

Why does Maze keep “betraying” Lucifer? It’s tempting to think it’s because she’s a demon. Because she doesn’t have “a soul.” But that’s not true. She can learn; she learns from “betraying” Chloe and doesn’t do it a second time. She learns from “betraying” Linda and Trixie. Even she and Amenadiel seem to have reached a real (and much more healthy) understanding of who they are to each other.

She keeps betraying Lucifer because he keeps deserving it.

Servants

The thing is, I think there’s something important in Lucifer’s “You’re not my servant anymore” to Maze. Because I think angels believe they are God’s servants. And I suspect the reason God’s been so AFK is because he really wanted them to ... break free of that. On their own. Without him telling them to—because if he told them, it wouldn’t be choice anymore. It wouldn’t be free will. It would be Following The Will of DadGod.

Here’s another relevant Paracelsus quotation: “No one who can stand alone by himself should be the servant of another.”

Angels self-actualize. They have powers. Sometimes those powers change (as with Amenadiel). I don’t think angels ever lacked free will.

What is self-actualization but literal free will? You become what you believe you are; you do what you think you’re supposed to. You literally change based on your choices and feelings about those choices. Angels basically have human free will on a kind of EXTREME SCALE that they’ve remained mostly ignorant of throughout time. But how do you get your kids to figure something out without telling them how to figure it out when they’ve all got this WILL OF DAD complex? He gave them the tool of self-actualization. When they didn’t ... do that, he created humanity. He tinkered with the model. Took away the names and the powers that were such a stumbling block for his angels and such a shining example of how he failed them. If someone hangs on your every word, if you are not just their father but their master, how can they ever know love? Trust? How can they ever be free? Be themselves? I think God wanted his angel children to learn from his human children and was disappointed when they pretty much decided to just be remote and Angelically Superior All The Time, instead. Of course, that's mostly on him, too.

Except Lucifer. Because Lucifer’s curiosity (yes, from the beginning of time) kept bringing him so close to figuring things out. (Better to reign in Hell than serve in Heaven, amirite, Paradise Lost?) And as close as he was to figuring things out, Lucifer was still prideful and selfish and superior. The result was what happened with (and in) Hell. Things got twisted down there; he was in a God role over the demons and he was not hands-off. Cue endless loops of pain and torture and despair and self-recrimination and poison. Lilith may have started their pain, but Lucifer, however unintentionally or ignorantly, continued it.

At least Lucifer could escape it sometimes. Those poor demons. Those poor abandoned children. They had two rocks.

Pretty sure there’s going to be an echo of Dad abandonment with his angel kids and Lilith of her demon kids, by the by. Because abandonment is a theme. And good intentions or not, well, you know what they say about the road to Hell.

Humanity The more Lucifer interacted with humanity, the more he learned from humanity. And, of course, the entire journey of the series has been about Lucifer learning, growing, adapting, changing because of this. And not in a Superior Angelic Way, but in a person-to-person real way. Not just with Chloe. With everyone. But yeah, Chloe is the catalyst—precisely because (as Amenadiel says) she’s the only mortal who sees Lucifer for who he really is, without her reflected desires getting in the way. No one, no one else can truly reflect back to him his worthiness or lack thereof.

Does Chloe have a power? It’s not laser-beam hands. But I’ve always thought Chloe has the power of seeing things and, in seeing, encouraging others to see, too. And this is most obvious with Lucifer, whose power has never let him be seen. Because of his power, he can never know if the reactions of others are about him or about their own desires.

What agony for someone whose chosen path is bringing light: to be forever hidden in the shadow of the light others see.

Until Chloe.

Michael tells Lucifer his greatest fear is that of being unworthy. We know Lucifer has always feared he’s not worthy of Chloe. But now that she’s told him, shown him, his worthiness? You’d better believe that he will never, ever abandon her—will never, ever let her suffer from her worst fear. Gosh, and by suddenly being invulnerable again, it’s almost like he’s assured that, isn’t it? “You make me vulnerable” was about his walls. “My invulnerability ensures I will never, ever abandon you,” is all about hers.

So, back to learning from humanity. We’ve seen Lucifer and Amenadiel do it. It’s been hinted that Azrael has done it, at least a little. Then we have Michael’s frustrated tale of how the other angel siblings are taking note of Lucifer’s actions—with the implication being that maybe they’re learning, too. Maybe they’re starting to understand that they can be more than they think they have been made to be. More than just a “Something” of God.

Control

Meanwhile, of course, Michael’s concocted some kind of Make Heaven Great Again plot—ironically, it appears, by doing exactly what he accused Lucifer of doing: believing he can run things better than Dad. And, I suspect, by trying to set himself as Master and his siblings (and other assorted peons) as his servants. Only, he’s not doing it in Lucifer’s ultimately forthright (and even honest) way of “This sucks and I’m rebelling” but in a conniving, secretive, Machiavellian way that probably sounds a lot like “Dad says” or “Dad’s not here” or “Who is closer to God than I?” ...

Who is like God, indeed. He even throws down the word archangel when he speaks to Dan: an angel above even other angels. I’m 99% sure that word’s never been used before on the show. Because that’s what Michael desires. To be more. To be everything. To control.

He’s what Lucifer was as the Lord of Hell. He’s everything Lucifer has made such progress toward overcoming.

Incidentally, and also essay-worthy: This is why the progression of the scene where Lucifer and Chloe make love is so incredibly (heh) important: Lucifer of the perfect appearance, perfect pocket square, perfect car, perfectly clean apartment; Lucifer of control control control control ... surrenders. He offers. She accepts. And in these first moments—“Incredible,” he breathes before they’ve done anything more than kiss—she is above him, in control ... and nothing bad happens. Nothing hurts him even though she makes him hurt-able. She doesn’t take advantage of him. She loves him; she treasures him; she protects him. It’s beautiful. It’s everything he’s been so afraid he could never have.

And for the first time (very possibly) ever, he sees himself as worthy. He sees himself as belonging. He believes he is not alone; he is not lonely.

Power

Amenadiel “lost” his power to stop time when he decided he didn’t want to stand apart from humanity anymore. Essentially, just as he lost his wings when he was so horrified and disgusted by what he’d done (to Lucifer, with Malcolm, etc.) he caused himself to Fall. He regained his wings when he made it his purpose to bring Charlotte to Heaven. He stopped time again in S5 when the question of humanity—of his own child being human, and thus ‘not like him’ or ... not that ‘special’—reared its head. With the nuns, he reflects their love of God, right? And in part, that’s because he’s in this father (or Father) role now.

Angel powers, like all power really, are double-edged. In the wrong hands or twisted the wrong way, a good power can bring about evil. Look at the almost throwaway line with Brody in 5x02: Lucifer’s “desire” power—so often spun as about sin or hedonism—brought Brody peace and forgiveness. That Lucifer doesn’t lie or take without giving in return indicates that, on some level, the level that values true justice—and even a bit of mercy—he was never able to use that power against others (the way we see Michael do with his); he didn’t want to use as he felt he’d been used; he also didn’t want to feel used by those whose desires he provided (this is why the parade of one-night stands and “it was just sex—great sex, but just sex” partners upset him so much back in S2). Favors—and even the give and take of sex—were a way to balance that scale. Again, this could be a whole essay all its own.

This makes me suspect that the dark side of Lucifer’s powers played some part in his Rebellion. That he abused desire the way we’ve seen Michael abuse fear.

So, about that power of fear, then. I mean, it just sounds negative. How can FEAR be positive, right? But if Michael were using his powers to draw out fears so they’re named and dealt with (LIKE PEOPLE DO IN THERAPY???) instead of manipulated for personal gain—it could be a very healing power (LIKE THERAPY???).

Greatest Strength/Greatest Weakness

The absolute thematic and narrative brilliance of twin brothers having the powers of fear and desire whilst also being held back BY the “power” of their twin is so amazing it really needs its own essay. But I do want to mention this relative to the overall arc heading forward. Much of Lucifer’s work with Linda has been about addressing his fears; he’s made a ton of progress with this. As I mentioned earlier, with Linda’s guidance, Lucifer has been drawing out his fears in a safe(r) space and learning to deal with them and heal. And, in doing so, his own power of reflecting desire has increasingly been less and less about artisanal honey and car batteries and more about drawing out desires that help others heal, grow, become their best selves, release their inner demons.

Michael is (both literally and figuratively) twisted by his desires (to be powerful, to be stronger/better/more admired than his brother). I’ll bet some cold hard cash that if Lucifer’s the source of the original injury to his shoulder/wing, Michael has self-actualized into keeping that injury—perhaps even magnifying it—to a) manipulate others into feeling sorry for him, b) to remind everyone who looks at him how awful Lucifer is, and c) to trick people into believing he’s weaker than he is.

At the end of the day, fear and desire are two of the strongest motivating forces in the world (universe); the show is showing us all the messy ways those forces come into play. And it’s also showing how connection and love and trust are the forces that both fight the worse facets of these powers and that let these forces be useful in helpful and ultimately healing ways.

Because THERAPY.

Home

So, we know we’re rolling toward what was meant to be a series finale; it’s time to start tying loose ends together, right? Again and again, the question of home comes up. Lucifer only ever refers to Los Angeles as his home. Maze, on the other hand, still defaults to Hell as home.

Hell as we know it is over. But Hell as a place where Maze tries to impart the lessons she’s learned on Earth to her abandoned, twisted-by-hate-and-loneliness-and-Lilith siblings? Perhaps even with Eve “mother of all humanity” at her side to help clean up some of the mess Lilith made when she decided to abandon connection in favor of more selfish desire? I think that’s plausible, while also managing a significant nod at where Mazikeen ends up in the comics and a heavy dash of “the things we learn from therapy and/or being best friends with a therapist.”

Now, I know the question of how things will end for Chloe and Lucifer is contentious in fandom. So, you know, grain of salt. I don’t think Lucifer’s home is Los Angeles; the Los Angeles in Hell wasn��t enough because it didn’t have her in it. In a literal embodiment of “Home is where the heart is,” Lucifer’s home is with Chloe. And since Chloe’s worst fear is abandonment, Lucifer will do what it takes to stay with her—because that’s what’s most important to him. The utterly unselfish choice. I think there’s some pretty reasonable foreshadowing (Lilith’s choice—if that choice was even real, of course—for example) that Lucifer may choose to renounce his immortality. Or to give it to someone else. Or that immortality won’t matter at all anymore.

From his reactions in 5x07/08, we know that Lucifer’s identity and ideas of usefulness/self-worth/worthiness of love are still connected to his identity as an immortal with powers; I think, though, he’s beginning to piece together the complications therein, especially regarding questions of partnership and vulnerability and equality.

Personally, Human!Lucifer has never been my preferred outcome, but I can see how it might work/might be what they’re heading for. Even if I’d still prefer the “you can use me as a bullet shield” partnership with supernatural elements—because those have always been at the heart of their partnership. The strengths of one make up for the weaknesses in the other (and vice versa).

Hell (Redux)

Finally, I’m still pretty sure we’re going to see a complete overhaul of the Heaven/Hell dichotomy. One with a lot less THIS IS THE WAY IT IS BECAUSE CONTROL and a lot more CHOICES MATTER (maybe Linda can have a turn as a salamander after all). And a major catalyst, of course, is Lucifer and his love for the chosen family on earth (and through them, a renewed love for the estranged family he’s never actually stopped loving; 5x01 basically makes canon that it's not that Lucifer hates his family—it's that he's terrified of disappointing them again, of causing problems again).

So why does Hell have to change?

Because right now, every human he loves is sure they’re going to Hell. And after all the time and all these friendships, can you really see Lucifer being okay with that? Okay with Ella or Linda or Dan or Trixie tormenting themselves for all eternity? When he wasn’t even okay with Mr. Said Out Bitch doing so? When he gave this guy who he barely knows every opportunity to change his fate in ways he’s never done for any other tortured soul? Because they had a tenuous connection on earth?

Can you see him being okay with Chloe choosing Hell to be with him?

When it boils right down to it, Lucifer has learned to love others. And I think, especially given his revelations about self-loathing last season, that love isn’t going to let him be okay with or encourage the self-loathing in others. Love—selfless love, real love—is, in fact, the cure to the very concept of Hell.

And it’s also the cure to the very concept of Heaven, too.

How could Heaven ever be perfect if the people you love aren’t in it?

It can’t. It might be more silver and have fewer demons, but I don’t think it’s any less an eternal torture. Eve basically tells us as much.

So, on that note, I’ll leave you with another fine quotation from Paracelsus:

“When a man undertakes to create something, he establishes a new heaven, as it were, and from it the work that he desires to create flows into him... For such is the immensity of man that he is greater than heaven and earth.”

And that, I think, is going to be the takeaway. We create what we are; we choose what we create. And in the act of that creation, we choose whether we are the poison or the remedy. And if we make mistakes, slip up, hurt people, hurt ourselves—it’s not a Hell-sentence. It’s the dose that makes the poison. We learn, we grow, we apologize, we strive to make things better, we love and love and love and love, and we never stop striving to be the cure.

#lucifer morningstar #chloe decker #deckerstar #lucifer on netflix #lucifer meta #lucifer speculation #lucifer season 5 #lucifer s5 spoilers #who asked for 3K+ of meta speculation?#no one #but here it is #long text post #very very long text post #lucifer thoughts

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sellyoursoulforagoodfic · 3 years

Text

Shelbys at Somme: Chapter 5

Thomas X Reader

2389

Summary: Police interrogation turns to torture.

By: @adventuresintooblivion

While it was still late summer, hints of fall had begun appearing during the earliest hours of the morning. A crispness in the air that didn’t belong to any other time of year sent thrills through Y/N as she set out to find more work for herself.

If she was to become self sufficient she’d need a continuous flow of requests, which usually came from reputation. The only reason she’d gotten to play the other night was because the host there owed her a favor for getting rid of a clingy lover. Now with that under her belt she wouldn’t have to start at the bottom, but it wasn’t much of a head start.

She hopped from dance hall to dance hall. Without references or a traditional music background Y/N wasn’t having much luck. It wasn’t until the fifth stop that someone recognized her.

“Hey, aren’t you the girl who played the violin yesterday? You know, down at the Garrison?” a tall man asked as he sloshed his beer.

The barkeep raised his eyebrow as Y/N replied, “Yes, that was me.”

The man hiccuped, “Best music I ever heard. And I’ve heard lots of music. My mum used to play clarinet for one of those orchestras. You were better than any of those stiff necks.”

Y/N felt her face go hot but she thanked the man regardless. The barkeep on the other hand eyed the two of them.

“Is this some ploy to garner my sympathies?” he growled, scratching his beard.

“No, sir.” Y/N replied. She had considered it but if she wanted to earn a legal wage she’d have to do it on her own.

He grumbled, “Come by tomorrow. If the customers like you then, I’ll book you again. I can’t afford every night, but you’re lucky enough getting this out of me.”

“Understood. Any requests?”

“Yeah, wear something saucy.” He winked at her like the lecher he was.

Y/N replied with a tight smile, her hand closing around the brass knuckles in her pockets. With great effort, she wrangled in her anger and left.

She made it down a couple blocks before her internal alarm went off. Something was wrong. The street that had been packed with people a couple moments before was now empty except for a handful of men.

She froze, head whipping around as she looked for an exit. Residual pain from yesterday made her stiff and she didn’t know the town well enough to slip away unseen, but she had to try. Just as she was about to beeline for a nearby alleyway, filled with crates for cover, the click of a gun stopped her.

“Move one more inch, Ms. Y/L/N, and Thomas Shelby will be tossing pieces of you in the river.”

Y/N lifted her hands in the air, “Well I knew Thomas had friends here, but I don’t believe we’ve met.”

A soft growl answered her, “Cuff her, men!”

The remaining people on the street began to converge on her. It was a practiced formation meant for the thinner streets of Birmingham. Y/N silently cursed as she rolled, bracing herself for the pain.

Her body hit the ground, but the momentum carried her away. The man with the gun hadn’t expected her to run for it and shot off a round a foot above her head. She kicked at his ankle, using her heel to get the most force she could on that one spot. As he yelped in pain she got on all fours and launched herself towards the alleyway.

Two men stood between her and escape, but she didn’t stop. Instead of leaning down and tackling them, she leapt onto a crate. The wood had enough give that she was able to propel herself into the air above their heads onto another stack of crates. She gripped the brass knuckles in her pockets and used her height to her advantage.

She swung, keeping her balance as low as possible. Y/N didn’t aim for the jaw like most people did. She aimed for the nearest man’s temple. Bone collapsed beneath her fist. Another shot fired ricocheting off the brick walls. With one man down she descended. The others were closing in, there was nothing left to do but run. So run she did.

Each step was a knife in her back. It nearly stole her breath away but she needed every ounce of oxygen she could squeeze out of her lungs. Footsteps pounded on the stone behind her. The walls closed in as the alley twisted and curved. Soon her shoulders were brushing the brick but the end was in sight. Crowds hustled by oblivious to the chase they were the key to ending.

A great shout came from behind and something hit her from behind. She fell hard, her hands scraping against the sharp stone. Her head cracked against the hard surface causing bright spots to appear in her vision. Her legs were jelly beneath her. Move. Move Goddamn you!

One of her pursuers had hucked his billy club at her in desperation. It had caught her in the knee forcing her to collapse in on herself. Only one man at a time could fit through the alley way at a time. Rough hands closed around her shoulders and hauled her to her feet. Or tried to. She couldn’t stand if she wanted. Y/N’s head lolled back fighting for consciousness. A groan escaped her as they dragged her back into darkness away from the crowd.

〜

She awoke to the sound of a cane clacking against tile. A black hood had been draped over her head to keep her from guessing the location in transit, but since they weren’t moving she assumed they had arrived. Rough rope tied her hands behind her back. It splintered and dug into her skin all at once making any movement uncomfortable. The chair she sat in had no back and wobbled even as she turned her head.

“Ms. Y/L/N, you know I could charge you with assaulting an officer at this point. Throw you in jail and let you rot. But you’ve faced the jury before haven’t you?”

Her hood was ripped off. A bright light was shining down at her causing her eyes to water. She didn’t need to see him to know the guy talking was the same one who’d pulled a gun on her. She gave a soft smile when she heard the cane make contact with the tile once again.

“No, sir.” Y/N’s voice broke. It felt like hours since she’d last spoken a word. Or had anything to drink.

“Sir? That’s such a respectful word from someone who tried to break my ankle.”

She shrugged, wincing as the rope bit into her wrists. “Well you did pull a gun on me. So I figured fair is fair, Mister…?”

He bent down, his silhouette suddenly a dark mass against the light, “It’s Inspector actually. Inspector Chester Campbell. Matthew on the other hand didn’t have a gun.”

Y/N glanced up, “Matthew?”

“That man whose head you caved in. His name was Matthew,” he growled shoving aside the light.

Now she could get a proper look at him. Y/N felt her stomach drop out from underneath her. This was the man Grace had met at the Opera. Bile rose in Y/N’s throat; now she couldn’t play fast and loose tossing her life to the wind. Now she had to make it out of her and warn Thomas.

Inspector Campbell leaned in close enough Y/N could smell his breath. “Is that shame I see? Or fear? What a pity. I was hoping you were the cold blooded killer your files said you were.”

Y/N tried to clear her throat, “My file?”

“Your military file. Once I realized what your name was, I had every bit of information I could dug up on you. And believe me I almost had to pay an arm and a leg to do it. Nothing creates red tape like military shame.” he slowly paced the room turning his back to her.

He sure likes to hear himself talk. “Find anything fun?” she goaded.

He raised his eyebrow, “Oh, I bet you’re used to people just being stunned that you were able to join. It was a fun story I’ll admit, but that’s not what caught my eye.”

She heard the noise before she felt it. A billy club made contact with her flesh just to the left of her spine. A thunderous crack resounded throughout the room. The sound that ripped out of her mouth wasn’t human.

It felt as if someone had slipped a red-hot hook inside her and ripped her insides to shreds. The world went white. She couldn’t stop screaming long enough to breathe. Y/N’s skin was instantly covered in sweat as she shook.

The men around her recoiled. Some even turned green. Yet Inspector Campbell’s face remained smooth as glass as he watched the aftermath of what his men had done.

When she collapsed, doubled over and panting, he reached down and yanked her head back by her hair. Y/N could barely focus on him in the weird lighting. And quite frankly she couldn’t give two shits about how close he was.

“Look up. Look at me. You killed an officer of the law today, so I can’t just let you go. But don’t worry; you’ll make it out of here alive. I mean sure we’ll have to strike a deal first-”

Y/N spat in his face.

He sneered, letting go long enough to wipe away her saliva. Then he backhanded her with a resounding thud. Her head snapped to the side almost causing her chair to wobble dangerously. Inspector Campbell’s voice was soothing as he spoke, “Now disrespect me again and there will have to be real consequences. I want you to tell me everything you know about Thomas Shelby. Judging by the fact that you put all this work to hunt him down three years after your service ended, I’d wager to say you and he have something special.”

Y/N mulled over her options. She was in a room full of people who would face no repercussions for what they did to her. The only thing that stopped them was whatever passed for morals in a torture session. If war had taught her anything it was that good men gave way to monsters when push came to shove.

“What’s left of my platoon lives here, Inspector. The military let them think I was dead, all because of shame. I came here to tell them I was alive.”

“And now that that’s done I suppose you’ll be on your way?”

She shook her head. “Put a down payment on a place. Gotta job lined up that starts soon. I’m here to stay, my good sir, and I’ll say this is one hell of a welcome party.”

Inspector Campbell tapped his cane on the tile, “Did Thomas bring you in to deal with the guns?”

“I would’ve loved to see that seance.”

The Inspector nodded towards whomever stood behind her. His men recoiled before the blow even landed. CRACK. Pain. Blackness.

Y/N started awake sputtering as water as thrown in her face. She was somewhat aware of a clicking noise. It was the Inspector.

“Tsk, tsk, tsk. I thought you were a British soldier, the best of the best. Now why is it that you black out from a couple of switches to the back?” His grin caused nausea to twist in Y/N’s gut.

She didn’t answer, only took slow deep breaths. That wasn’t going to be the last time he hit her. They all knew it.

He circled around her, using his cane to lift her shirt. “You were shot in the abdomen correct?”

When she stayed silent he cracked his cane on the tile floor. She flinched before nodding.

“Then why is there no exit wound? Did they remove the bullet through your stomach?” he continued.

“No.”

His eyes flashed in the dim light, a triumphant smile on his face, “So it’s still there. Tell me, Ms. Y/L/N, do you think old age will get you first or lead poisoning?”

She rolled her eyes. “My own pride is what’ll get me.”

Inspector Campbell opened a small pocket book. “And why do you say that?”

“Well for starters if this is what you call torture you’re fucking awful at it.” She slowly sat up refusing to huddle in on herself any longer. She could see a man who stood opposite her shake his head. He didn’t want to watch what was about to happen. At least someone here is smart.

“Do enlighten us Miss.”

Y/N cackled. “No. This is a beat down. You have limited time before Thomas notices I’m missing. You need to get me in and out with little to no markings as fast as possible otherwise he’ll know I got nabbed.”

He interrupted. “It’s just information we want.”

“Oh, that ‘information you want’, why haven’t you gone to his other war buddies? The town is thick with them. Oh that’s right, cause they won’t tell you jack shit. Think I’ll just spill the beans because I’m a woman? Fuck you.”

His eyes turned dark, “We can do more to you than beat you, Ms. Y/L/N.”

Then he saw it, the wild look he’d only seen in Thomas Shelby until now. A grin split her face as she snarled at him. Her gaze was that of a starving predator that had finally caught sight of food after a long winter.

Her voice was filled with venom as she spat, “Give me a reason to hang your flesh from the good ‘Ol Tower of London.”

“Yes, Ma’am.”

Inspector Campbell raised his cane and brought it down across her back so hard it knocked over her chair. Her rage filled scream resounded off the walls as the rest of the men closed in on her. Most of them looked sick even as they beat her with their fists, their clubs, whatever they had that would bring maximum pain. Eventually, they stopped to check and make sure she was still breathing.

#tommy shelby x reader #thomas shelby x reader #thomas shelby imagine #tommy shelby imagine #tommy #peaky blinders imagine #shelbys at somme #adventuresintooblivion

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futurewriter2000 · 4 years

Text

If we are not this, than what are we? - pt. 2

A/N: Hehe. Hehehehe.

James hasn't been in the castle that whole night. He was sitting at the edge of the lake, just as you were before, and watched his reflection.

' "The first one gets hit! It' s out!" you shouted running in the circle.

"Duuh, (y/n)" James stuck out his tongue, laughing. "We've been playing this game since forever." he threw the ball at you but you dodged.

"Somebody has to say it!" you laughed, light on your feet and watching another friend aim at you. You dodged.

James caught the ball, smiling mischievously. "I always say that!" he aimed at right at your left arm.

The two of you switched position, both with a smirk on your lips as you passed by. You bounced the ball on the ground a few times and looked up. "Attention seeker." you smiled and aimed at another friend.

"Too difficult?" he raised an eyebrow.

"Too easy." you nodded, throwing the ball at your friend.

"I don't think you-" the ball hit his face and he lost his balance, tripping over the branch and falling on the ground.

You gasped as you watched him roll on the ground but as you ran up to him, he was smiling up and laughing.

"You okay?" you tried to act casually, offering him an arm.

"Yeah, I'm fine." he grabbed your hand and you pulled him up. "It's not like I have a whole seven years of Hogwarts to plot my revenge."

"If we're in the same house..." you felt a tightness in your stomach and you couldn't figure out if it was because of the butterflies or the nervousness of your future.

"Of course. GRYFFINDOR!" he wrapped his arm around you and threw his fist in the air. "And even if we won't, it's not like we'll stop being friends..." '

James stopped smiling at his reflection, repeating the last sentence in his head. He did stop being friends with you, all because you were sorted in the Slytherin house.

Sirius hated them as much as he did. It was easy hating on all of them, even if it meant hating on you too but now as he thinks back, you had changed. You weren't the little girl who played Fliers with him. The girl he convinced to cut her bangs just because he wanted to. The girl who he pulled into the mud. The girl with whom he used to prank other neighbors, especially old McCarthy. The girl with whom he had sleepovers and used to cause so much trouble with.

And all the credit for never being caught goes to her- to you because you were witty and smart to get out of any situation he pulled you into. You were a Slytherin back then..."-but in a good way." he heard himself mumble. --- He wrote you a note a few days later in Sinatra's class. It was short and clear. 'I'm sorry. I'll leave you alone. - J. '

You turned around to lift an eyebrow at him. His expression was soft and sincere. You hated your gut telling you that he was being honest with you but it was your brain that caused so much distrust in this person. You simpered and nodded lightly.

"I'll believe it when I'll see it." you spoke under your breath. --- He did leave you alone. He hasn't done anything to you since that night and for some odd reason, other bullies left you alone as well. More people approached you and you started opening up.

You just parted with one of your classmates, who you have grown quite close with. She told you she will meet you later in the library as you went to your next class. She was a Hufflepuff, open, and fun to be around.

You turned around the corner and bumped into someone. Your bag fell off your shoulder and pencils flew out of it. You looked up at the person who you bumped into, feeling your heart squeeze. "James." your eyes were wide- wide and afraid. Here it comes. It was too good to be true. He even has his posse with him.

He kept looking at you, Sirius beside him watching in anticipation. He was waiting for James to start but all James did was bent down to pick up your bag and the two pencils and hand it to you.

"Here." he said, not knowing whether to smile or not.

You kept looking at him in surprise, taking the bag from his hand and slinging it over your shoulder. "Thank you."

"Of course." he said and moved out of the way for you to pass.

As you left, he started walking forward again. "Bloody hell, mate?" Sirius punched his shoulder. "Nothing."

"Yeah, so Pads? " he looked at Sirius.

"I thought you hate her? I thought we hate her?"

"I'm not really in the mood to- to..." he got stuck in his own words. "To make fun of her." he cleared his throat.

"Yeah, I've noticed. Why not? She's a snake."

"I don't care. We have an exam in an hour, I'd rather focus on that."

--- It was changing. Everything was changing so quickly and you haven’t really thought how James influenced everything wrong in your life. The fact was... he didn’t.

You sat at the edge of the lake, nightfall, and you sobbed in your hands. You sobbed and cried, not really knowing what to wish for- to pray for. You were so furious at everything that you just cried.

You heard a branch snap behind you and you quickly turned around to see a figure approaching. It stopped and stared at you for a while. “Sorry. I didn’t know anybody was here- I’ll just... I’ll just leave.” he scratched the back of his head and turned to leave.

“James?” you asked and it painted a smile on his face to hear you say his name. Lately, all you’ve been doing was being surprised to see him. The tone of your voice whenever you questioned his presence around. Usually, it would be so much anger and fury when you called his name but now it sounded innocent and surprised.

“I’m not here to hurt you, I swear- I just came to-”

“I know.” you wiped the tears away and sat on the rocky surface.

He took a good look at you. You were crying.

But how? He hasn’t done anything. He was avoiding you. He was leaving you alone.

“Are you crying?” he asked perplexed.

“I was, yeah.” you wiped the tears away and forced a smile. “You distracted me.” “Did I do something?” he asked immediately. and you laughed.

“No. Not this time.” you paused and looked up at him as he stood there, frozen. “Though not everything is about you.”

He smiled as well. You joked. You joked with him, at him- he was missing that. He was missing you and it let his heart grow wings, knowing he missed you and accepting that. “Can I come- uhm- forward?” he asked awkwardly, swinging his long legs across.

“Yes, you can.” you answered and watched him sit beside you, keeping the distance safe. “You know you don’t have to pretend that I am this fragile girl, who is afraid of everything.”

“I know you’re not. I remember you in Fliers.” he smiled and you laughed. “You remember that?!” you asked in surprise.

“Of course, I do. It was the only game you beat me.”

“It was a good game.”

“It was, yeah.” he smiled, watching you with his eyes and watching your hair. “Did you cut your hair?” he asked bluntly.

You furrowed your eyebrows at him and watched for a while. He noticed? “You noticed?”

James realized what he had said and felt his cheeks burn fire. “Uhm- yeah- I mean I know... I... you see I know you used to have long hair and all because... uhm... I mean you used to keep it in a braid most of the time and it’s just weird seeing it- yeah I’m just gonna..” he turned his head away and into the stars, trying to avoid the silence that followed his attempt of explanation.

You watched the usual pride and ego deflate into shyness and awkwardness, so like a reflex you have never gotten over, you pushed his shoulder with your fist and laughed.

He looked at you with wide eyes, glancing from his shoulder to the laughing girl in front of him.

He remembers this feeling. He remembers it like there was not a six-year gap since he last felt it.

He missed it.

“You’re such a dork.” you laughed and just like him feeling, after such a long time, for the first time, that nothing has ever happened between the two of you in the last six years.

But as it got erased, such fast it came back. It hit back like a storm after a sunny day.

He bullied you.

He realized the change in your expression and he felt guilt rise above. “I’m sorry.” he said almost immediately and without a thought.

You nodded, not even bothering to look at him.

It still hurt. It still felt fresh.

“I know what I did, (y/n). I know I hurt you more than I ever intended to. I know that what I have done has left permanent scars. I know, I know, I know and every time I try to find an excuse, I come here instead.” he kept his eyes on the miniature rocks beneath him. “And I don’t know why I come here to be exact but every time I do, I think of you.” he looked at you and you were already looking back at him. “And what you said about me hating you because of my family. That was never true.”

“Then why did you leave? Why did you stop being my friend?”

“Because you got sorted into Slytherin,” he answered, honestly, gritting his teeth as he did. “And I know it sounds so childish and illogical but I was an 11-year-old kid who was promised everything and always got everything. I thought you and me will be in Gryffindor together and we would be causing trouble together and I also-” he stopped, looking away and smiling. “No. Nevermind.”

“You also thought what?”

“I thought we would be together and we would piss our parents- I don’t know.” he kept avoiding your eye-contact. “Back then when I got into a fight with my mum because of you, I was so furious that the same night I thought of this plan of how in Hogwarts we would both be sorted into Gryffindor and then we would start dating- just to piss off my mum but then secretly fall in love- I guess. It’s dumb. I don’t even know why I’m telling you this.” he started running his hand through his hair and fell on his back.

You were speechless.

He thought the two of you would be together. He liked you since you were eleven but then why?

“And I destroyed that plan by being sorted in Slytherin?” you asked, laying on your back as well and turning your head to him.

He looked at you as well, watching your eyes, watching your nose, your hair, your whole face that has changed so much since the two of you were kids. You grew up beautifully.

“No.” he said, smiling at you. “You haven’t destroyed my plan. I destroyed it.” he rolled on the side and lifted himself on the elbow. “At first I thought you destroyed everything by being sorted into Slytherin. I was so mad at you back then. So mad that I grew petty. From all the houses, you just had to be in Slytherin.”

“So the first part of the plan crumbles.” you smiled and he laughed.

He kept looking at you.

It was something inside of him. He couldn’t describe it but the way your eyes shone and the way your energy spoke to him, made him feel so happy. It was the past that was bringing him down. It was the guilt, the shame.

You were still you. You were still kind and real. You were so real. You were always real and he was so fake. He put this mask on and he hated it but you? You didn’t put any masks on. You were honest with yourself and it drove him mad to see you have something he didn’t. You still had yourself.

“I know I probably don’t deserve this but can I ask you for a favor?” he asked nervously.

“A favor?” you looked at him, completely confused. Why would he want a favor from you?

“Can I kiss you?” he asked and you immediately sat up.

He- he wants to what? You can’t believe you fell for it.

“You want to kiss me?” you started to get furious. “The hell, James?!” you stood up on your feet.

“What? What did I do?”

“I thought you were over with your childish pranks. I thought you grew up!”

“I DID!” he stood up as well, shouting.

“Yeah, clearly. Come on! Where’s Sirius hiding?”

“What?! Sirius isn’t here!”

“Come on, Black!” you shouted through the forest.

“What’s your deal? I asked if I could kiss you.”

“Yeah, like you think I am that dense to not see a prank and an asshole in front of my face!”

“THIS ISN’T A PRANK! I SWEAR!”

“I don’t know what you expected to happen!”

“You’re not listening to me!”

“You thinking I’m going to fall for you- you leaving me alone, just to crawl back in my life, trying to what exactly? Fuck me and embarrass me!”

“I’D NEVER DO THAT!” he shouted on top of his lungs. “You’re being crazy right now!!”

“oH, I’m being crazy?!”

“YES!”

“Well, maybe I do deserve to be crazy, dealing with your arse for six years.” you pushed his chest. “I almost believed you.”

“BELIEVE ME STILL!” he kept trying to convince you but you couldn’t trust him.

“HOW?! WHY NOW JAMES?! WHY DO YOU WANT ME TO BELIEVE YOU ARE GOOD?!” you shouted, letting your arms lift and fall against your body. “So you can feel good? So you don’t feel guilty anymore? So if I forgive you that you haven’t done anything wrong?!”

“I DON’T KNOW, (Y/N)! MAYBE! MAYBE I WANT TO DO THE RIGHT THING AND FEEL WHAT’S IT LIKE AND IF IT MEANS WASHING AWAY MY GUILT THAN BE IT!”

“I bloody knew it, you fucking coward!”

“WHAT?! WHY ARE YOU SO CONFUSING!”

“Well, let me clear it out then. You leave. You don’t talk to me. You don’t speak to me. You don’t even breather around me. You leave me alone!”

“FINE! MY PLEASURE!”

“FINE!”

“FINE!” you finished, walking away from him.

“FINE!” he shouted behind you. “SUPER FINE!”

“FINE!”

#james potter #james potter x reader #james potter imagine #marauders #maruaders x reader #marauders imagine #maruaders imagines #marauder x reader #sirius black #siriuc black imagine #remus lupin #remus lupin imagine

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queencestqueen · 4 years

Text

Silence: Ficlet

Inspired by October Spooky Writing Challenge’s prompt, “Silent.”

Summary: [In a non-specific AU timeline] It’s the day of Oliver & Felicity’s wedding and Thea can no longer stay silent.

Warnings: Implied romantic feelings between half-siblings (obviously,) NOT for fans of Felicity Smoak.

Thea Queen was a master of silence, or to be more accurate, she was a master at staying silent. Not always and certainly not when she might be best served by remaining mum. (Though heaven knows that there were times where if she had stayed quiet, she would have saved herself a great deal of grief.) No, Thea saved her silence for when she truly needed it: not interfering in her brother’s love life.

When he had started to date Laurel Lance, Thea stayed silent. She could see right from the introduction of the then brunette Lance that Laurel wasn’t a good match for her brother. Oh sure, Laurel was beautiful, brilliant, and witty. She even made Oliver want to be a better man; that much was obvious when, at her urging, he registered for college classes even though he’d never been particularly studious. On the surface Laurel and Oliver had seemed like a couple that was in for the long haul. Laurel had even gotten the metaphorical Moira Queen stamp of approval, a feat which none of Oliver’s other romantic conquests could boast.

Thea, on the other hand, held her tongue as the rest of her family welcomed Laurel with open arms. It wasn’t that Thea didn’t like Laurel, because she did, Laurel was driven and wickedly smart. Had they met in any other manner, Thea might have even felt a sisterly-like bond with the woman… but they had met as result of her relationship with Oliver and there was no getting around that. The fact of the matter was that Laurel and Oliver would never last.

Laurel was independent as well as ambitious and, while those are fantastic qualities, they made her a poor match for Oliver. Though he had not yet recognized it at the time, Oliver belonged with someone who needed him. Not a clingy mess or anything, just someone with moments of vulnerability. Someone who could stand on their two feet and yet was unafraid to turn to him, when the need arose. Laurel needed no one, but herself.

Despite seeing the end of that relationship coming from a mile away, Thea stayed silent. Her older brother wouldn’t have taken dating advice from her anyway.

She was silent when Oliver started seeing Sara too, and yeah, Thea had known about that long before anyone else had. They hadn’t been super stealthy... or maybe Thea had just been paying too much attention. (She had been going through a Harriet-the-Spy phase back then.) Either way she could have told both Oliver and Sara that it wasn’t going to work out. A relationship that starts with deception cannot end well. Thea stayed silent though. Oliver didn’t need her input on his romantic endeavors; he was a grown man and if he wanted to cheat on his girlfriend with her own sister, Thea telling him that neither Lance sister was his forever after would have only complicated things.

When Helena had shown up at the Queen family mansion and claimed to be dating Oliver, Thea didn’t doubt it. The woman was every bit Oliver’s type. So, Thea had done the well-mannered thing, invited the older woman inside, and held a polite conversation with her, but even as Helena informed her as to how she and Oliver met, the youngest Queen had to bite her tongue to hold back pitiful chuckles. The other heiress was just setting herself up for a heartbreak. Much like Laurel before her, Helena was a ferocious woman, but she would never need the eldest Queen.

Then came McKenna Hall. The vice detective probably Oliver’s most stable paramour. She knew who she was and who she wanted to be. Neither she nor Oliver seemed to realize that meant doom for their relationship. As great as she was, she’d never be happy with a domestic life as Oliver’s partner.

Thea had remained silent in the face of all those romantic failures. Why? Because she trusted that the parties involved would realize the truths that Thea had.

Watching from the doorway as Oliver struggled to get his bowtie just right in the standalone mirror, she had to say something. Silence was no longer an option.

“Ollie,” she said, his steel-blue eyes meeting hers in the looking glass.

“Woah, Speedy,” Oliver said, laughter tinting his words, “you look…”

Thea wasn’t surprised that he had no end to that sentence. When she’d received the e-mail with the link to purchase her gown, she had had much the same problem. What could one say about a florescent green, mermaid silhouette gown with a square neckline? She looked like a radioactive cucumber! If all of that weren’t enough bad enough to see the gown tossed in a garbage bin, then the weird ruffle that started below her knees and a single eye-catching flower accoutrement on the right side of the bodice sure were. Oliver couldn’t come up with a compliment because, well, there were no compliments to give. Not in this garbage.

“Hey, don’t blame me. I didn’t pick it.” Thea said, taking a few steps into the room and closing the door behind her. The charmeuse fabric of her dress made an atrocious noise as she moved. Gah. She was done with this damn dress already, and she’d only been wearing it for half an hour!

“Felicity had a very specific vision for today,” he shrugged, his tone seemingly happy, but Thea could hear the slight wavering in his voice. “Happy wife, happy life, right?”

Bridging the distance until she was standing behind him in the looking glass, Thea was struck by the dichotomy between them, He looked every bit the suave, charming billionaire. No doubt there were countless women out there in the world bemoaning the loss of an eligible bachelor as the clock ticked down on this wedding. Watching as his eyes met hers, Thea was knocked breathless at the soft smile that turned his lips upward; the stark black of the tuxedo really made his steel-blue eye stand out even more.

It was time for her to break her silence.

“You can’t marry her, Ollie.”

Time seemed to stop. The little side room went silent. Thea couldn’t breathe, mentally preparing for the fallout of such a statement.

Then he chuckled and Thea was thrown. That certainly wasn’t the reaction that she was expecting.

“Did John put you up to this? One last joke before I get hitched or something?” He turned on his heel to look at her, as opposed to the mirror.

“What? No.” Thea was a little insulted that when she finally gave voice to her thoughts, Oliver believed they belonged to someone else. “It’s no joke either, I’m serious. You cannot marry her, Ollie. She’s not your forever.”

“Not ‘my forever?’ What does that even mean?” Oliver asked, tone turning slightly defensive.

God! What wasn’t he getting about this? She’d said he shouldn’t marry her. What was unclear about that?

Knowing that time was running out and they’d both be summoned to the altar before too long, Thea didn’t have the luxury of being gentle in imparting this truth. “You deserve a love that’s deep and unending. A love that’s real. A love that’s about who you are and who you will be in the future. Felicity can’t give you those things, Ollie. She loves who she wants you to be, not who you are. Please, please tell me you can see that.”

The look on his face was so betrayed that Thea felt utterly gutted. But no matter how bad she felt in the moment, Thea knew she had to persevere. If she backed down, let him go off and marry the blonde, he would suffer the consequences for years to come and she couldn’t allow that. If the price of saving him from himself was his anger or hatred, well then Thea would just have to bear that. She was his sister, his supporter, and she had to stand strong. She had to make sure he knew he deserved better, so much better …even if he hated her for it.

“Now, Speedy, really? I’m getting ready to walk down the aisle in just a few minutes and you’re throwing this at me?”

“I thought you’d come to your senses on your own!” Thea answered in frustration, “It’s not my fault that she’s pulled the wool over your eyes so tightly. For heaven’s sake, Ollie, you were in a compromised emotional state when you two first ‘hooked up!’”

A look of confusion flitted over his features, “How do you-”

Thea waved her hand dismissively, “I was out of it, yeah, but Malcolm sees everything.”

“Malcolm,” He echoed, his words carrying a tinge of darkness, “of course. I don’t know what he told you, or why he thought it was appropriate to talk to my little sister about it-”

“Because I asked,” Thea supplied with a slight eyeroll. “When Felicity made a point of mentioning your,” she put the air quotes around the word with her index and middle fingers, “’relationship,’ to me upon our first conversation after returning to the city, I was thrown. Last I knew you two hadn’t even been on a date and then suddenly she was tossing around the ‘relationship’ word. I figured the only person I’d get matter-of-fact information was from, without any bias, Malcolm and I did.”

“Oh,” his righteous indignation faded quickly.

Reaching down to take ahold of his hand loosely, Thea pulled him over to the small sitting sofa in the far corner. She sat herself down on the very edge of the couch, cautious of wrinkling her gown even though she hated it. Lacing her fingers with his, she looked over at him seriously, “Do me a favor, Ollie, remember that day, remember how you felt after you took me all the way to Nanda Parbat? Remember what you were feeling that night, okay?”

He nodded.

“Now, let me ask you a hypothetical question. If our situations had been reversed, if it had been you in the Lazarus Pit and I had been feeling what you were, what would you have said to me if someone had come onto me in that vulnerable state? If I’d then started a relationship with that person?”

He didn’t answer right away, giving some serious thought to the hypothetical that she’d put forth. When he did finally speak, it was halting and hesitating. “…I’d have rung his neck.”

Seeing that her point was finally starting to penetrate the spell that Felicity had cast upon her brother, Thea pushed the issue cautiously, “Would you have let me marry someone who manipulated me like that?”

This time his answer was immediate. “No.”

“I’ve spent countless hours watching you and Felicity play ‘relationship,’ Ollie, and it feels like every time you two hit a bump in the road, she makes it your fault somehow. With her, you are always to blame. God forbid she take responsibility for anything. She’s constantly trying to change you. That’s not right.” She flexed her fingers against his, holding tighter to his hand, “You shouldn’t need to change, not if she’s meant to be the one. You deserve someone who loves you, truly, madly, deeply.”

“Now you’re just quoting Savage Garden lyrics.” Oliver pointed out, the corners of his lips twitching.

“I’m being serious here!” Thea said with an aborted laugh.

“I know,” he assured gently, squeezing her fingers in return. “Speedy, I love you and I appreciate where you’re coming from, but it’s… not that simple.”

“Why not? It’s not like you two have kids together or anything…” A beat then, “she’s not pregnant, is she?”

“No, no,” he assured quickly, calming her racing heart with those two simple words, “nothing like that.”

“Thank god.”

When he shot her a surprised, slightly hurt look, she quickly sought to justify her immediate response to the possibility, “Not like that. You know if she were, I’d love that child like my own, same as I do with William.”

His look faded, momentary defensiveness abandoned completely, “I know you would, Speedy.”

“Then why isn’t it simple?”

“Any minute now, John’s going to come in that door to fetch me for my wedding. Felicity’s already in her dress, all the guests are here. It’s too late.”

“It’s not over ‘til someone says, ‘I do.’”

“Speedy…”

“No, Ollie, I’m sorry but you can’t marry someone simply because not doing so might inconvenience some people. You should get married because you’re in love, because you want to spend your life being committed to one person.”

Oliver asked, “Who says I’m not in love with Felicity?”

Thea snorted, “Me!”

“I know you’re just trying to look out for me, but… this is my choice.” He reached out and gently tucked one of her carefully styled strands of hair behind her ear. “I’m not getting younger, Speedy. I’m a single parent who leads a dangerous life and keeps so many secrets. I’m not exactly a hot commodity anymore.”

A slightly hysterical laugh tumbled from her lips in shock. “That’s bullshit, Ollie, and you know it! You’re a handsome billionaire with a heart of gold who saves lives every day. And yeah, you have a kid, but William’s strong and he can endear anyone to himself without even trying. You are just settling for Felicity because it is easy, because she already knows everything. You can’t get married because you’re scared to put yourself out there. It isn’t like you, Ollie, to shy away from anything, but that’s exactly what you are doing right now.”

“I’m being rational, Speedy. My life’s not easy, but Felicity’s still here. She’s seen me at my worst, she knows what it takes to be with me.”

“So have I!” Thea snapped, frustration reaching a boiling point.

Listening to Oliver lament how great Felicity was just because she stuck around made Thea sick. He saw that as a positive. What a fucking joke.

Personally, Thea thought Felicity was a lamprey. Oliver was just the bigger fish that she’d glommed onto. Of course, she stuck around, she’d found someone to feed off of; she’d be a fool to walk away from that. That was not worthy of admiration and she was so done, hearing her brother sing the blonde’s praises. Why couldn’t he see her for what she was? Boy she must have a magic pussy, she thought uncharitably.

“Yeah, but I can’t be with you,” Oliver said with a weak smile.

Thea answered thoughtlessly, “Says who?”

The room fell deathly silent. Her words hanging heavy in the air. Oh god. Why had she said that aloud? Fuck.

She’d come in here to protect him from himself, not dump her emotional baggage on him. This wasn’t about her. It was about him and now, he looked like he’d seen a ghost. Thea had to act quick to get the conversation back on track. “Ollie, please, don’t marry her. You don’t have to settle for easy. You deserve a marriage of true love, deep love, not just comfortable.”

“Thea-”

Two heavy knocks sounded on the door before John entered the room, “Ready, Oliver?”

Oliver looked between his closest friend and his younger sister. It was time to make a choice.

#queencest #oliver x thea #arrow fanfiction #nolicity #oswc2020 #ficlets

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quirks-of-a-fangirl · 4 years

Text

Another Quick Blurb

Here’s some more of Piper and Harry time! Please give me all the feedback! What else would you want to see?

Word Count: 3221

As the finishing bars of The Christmas Song floated through the air, Piper closed her eyes and took a deep breath. She hates this time of year. The whole world won’t let her forget that this month was supposed to be filled with happiness and family and cheer and love. Piper’s December was not filled with any of that. It was a time filled with triggers and anxiety and fights and loneliness.

She rarely went home to visit her family. All that ever happened was hurt. They hurt her. She’d sometimes hurt them back. No one was happy when she was home so she cut down the visits to once a year- at Christmas.

Harry has tried to convince her to just spend Christmas with his family. He would do the cleaning. His mom would do the cooking. His sister would do the presents. Piper could just do the drinking. But Piper knew she would never hear the end of it from her mom and sister if she didn’t go home for a bit.

So home she went. She drove the few hours to see her family and it was fine for about 24 hours. Piper was shocked at who broke the peace this time, though. Her younger sister was playing her Christmas music at full volume and the song was one that brought all of the shit of Christmases past right to the surface. Piper could feel the anxiety attack coming.

“Can we just turn down the music? Or turn it off?” Piper turned away from her sister. Piper reached toward the volume control on the stereo.

“God, why did you even come home if you were going to be such a killjoy?”

Piper’s head snapped around to look at what she expected to be her mom, but no. It was her sister saying those things to her.

“Everything has to be just like you want it, doesn’t Piper? You’re just like mom.”

Piper couldn’t talk as her sister just turned the music up, making it heard throughout the house. The tears welled up in Piper’s eyes and she turned the knob down. Her sister pushed her and turned the knob back up.

“God, just go home.”

So Piper did. She hadn’t wanted to come in the first place- she was guilted into it, just like every other year. She silently grabbed her bag and started walking out the door.

“You can’t even spend Christmas with us? You hate us that much?” Her mom’s voice hit her ears. Piper didn’t even bother stopping. She was too upset to be effective like her therapist taught her. Whatever Piper said would be twisted and turned around. She was starting to wish she had taken Harry’s offer.

She closed the door behind her and got in her car. She pulled away from the driveway before she let the tears fall. She refused to let them see her crying again because of their words. They didn’t need more ammunition. She cried the rest of the way back to her apartment.

Persephone, her little tortoiseshell kitten, came bounding over to her, the little bell on her collar tinkling. She made little squeaks to show her confusion. Mom had set out food for a few days and took her bag, which usually meant a few days of ruling the house for the small cat.

“Hi, little miss. I know I’m home early but I just missed you too much to stay away, Sweet Girl,” Piper scratched the cat’s belly as she flopped over at her mom’s feet.

Piper set her bag down and picked up the cat to really give her some love. When she started wriggling in Piper’s arms, she put her down and went to change.

Harry had left his forest green pullover at her place before they both left to visit family. She picked it up. It still smelled like him. She took off the nice outfit she had put on for the Christmas Eve festivities and pulled the oversized sweatshirt over her head. Pulling the sleeves over her hands and putting them up to her face, she inhaled deeply. Even from miles away, Harry was bringing her some comfort on this awful night.

She grabbed her blanket off the bed and wrapped it around her as she walked back to the couch. Persephone cuddled up right next to her as she turned on the shitty reality tv show she had been watching on Netflix. Piper just wanted to forget what happened and drown her sorrows in drag queen drama.

About 20 minutes into the episode, her phone began buzzing. At first, she ignored it. It was most likely her mom wanting to chew her out for leaving. It finally stilled. Then the phone buzzed again. It was Harry trying to FaceTime her. She slid the grey circle to the right, not even bothering to unwrap her head from the blankets she burrowed into earlier.

“Lovey! I proper miss ya, don’t I? Been chatting me mum’s ear off about it so I figured I better call ya instead!” Harry kept going, “She and Gem are making cookies and I snuck away to call. I can’t wait for you to try- wait. Are you on your couch?”

Harry’s mom and sister had come over from the UK to visit Harry. They were staying at a hotel near his tiny one-bedroom apartment near campus. That’s why he had wanted her over so badly, to just stay home this year.

“Yeah.”

“But I thought- shit.”

“Harry watch your language while your mother is here!” Anne called from the next room.

Harry rolled his eyes. Piper just stayed quiet. Harry knew Piper didn’t get along with her family, knew that she only went home once a year for a reason. It didn’t take much for him to connect the dots.

“I’m coming over.”

“Harry, no. Your family is there to see you. I’m fine. Just go help with the cookies.” There was no way she was letting him come over and ruin his family time.

“We don’t need him messing up our cookies. Please let him over, just for our sakes!” Gemma’s face appeared on the screen. Harry looked at his sister horrified, then back at Piper.

“Even though that was mean, it doesn’t change the fact that I am still coming over.” And with that, the call ended.

Chuckling, Piper shook her head. Anne was not going to let Harry out of her sight on Christmas Eve. They had come in from across the ocean. No way.

So when the door starting opening 10 minutes later, she was confused. Her head popped up over the back of her couch to look at the door and Harry busted out laughing. She was all wrapped and bundled in her blankets, much like a burrito, and just her eyes and nose were visible over the couch.

“Anne wasn’t supposed to let you leave.”

“You’re practically her second daughter. No way in hell she wasn’t going to let me come see you.” He smirked at her, “Plus I’m an adult so I can do whatever I want.”

“You trying to tell me or yourself?”

“Heeeeeyyy!” Harry whined as he walked over to her nest on the couch. He picked up her legs so he could sit down, putting them over his lap when he settled.

“What did your mom do this time?”

“It was my sister, actually. Told me I was just like mom,” Piper said quietly, looking at her twisting fingers.

“What the fuck,” Harry sat up from his lounged position, “That’s literally what you’ve been working on in therapy for years. You are the furthest thing from being your mom. She’s the one being like your mom!” His voice started to rise. Piper started to shrink. Harry checked himself when he saw this. “Sorry, lovey. I just can’t believe she would say that to you. No matter what happened.”

Piper smiled the beginning of a smile, her right cheek lifting with the corner of her mouth. Harry was so protective of her therapy work, of her.

“Harry, it’s ok. I’m ok. I left before it got worse.”

“Allison is gonna be so proud. I’m proud.”

Piper’s cheeks got warm. They were definitely reddening. She’d never get used to the pride that her therapist and her best friend offered her consistently. So Piper just snuggled into Harry’s side as Harry’s tattooed arm pulled her closer.

“Have you seen the space challenge in this season yet? The challenge twist was insane!”

And with that, they watched the drag queens as they battled it out. After an episode and a half, Piper turned the television off.

“Hey! The next episode is the best one in the season,” Harry whined.

“Harry, you need to go spend time with your family. So get your cute ass up and leave.”

Harry just frowned at her as she got up from the couch. The blankets fell in a pile around her feet. His eyes widened as he took in her pant-less state. Her, Harry’s, sweatshirt rode up her thighs as she stretched. Harry looked away. Piper pulled the sweatshirt back down.

“Sorry,” she murmured. Harry stayed quiet, still not looking at her. She figured he was annoyed with her wearing his sweatshirt so she hurried to change. “I’ll get this off so you can take it with you when you leave.”

Piper rushed to her room, spooking the sleepy kitten on her bed. She found some jeans and a comfy shirt to throw on as Persephone got up and stretched her little legs and then resettled.

Piper went back out, pullover in hand. Harry was still sitting on her couch, head in his hands. He looked up when she stopped in the doorway.

“You’re gonna freeze, love. Put the pullover back on so we can go,” Harry told her as he stood.

“Go?”

“Yeah. Go. Back to my place.”

“Harry I’m not intruding on Christmas with your family.”

“Not intruding, babe. Never intruding,” he said softly, wrapping his arms around her and looking down at her with those green eyes. And that’s how somehow she ended up with the sweatshirt on and back at Harry’s apartment, his mom and sister twittering around her.

“Oh, you’re even prettier than Harry said!”

“Your necklace is just the cutest!”

“We have been dying to meet ya!”

“Come get some cookies!”

“Did ya eat yet? Harry get her a plate.”

Piper didn’t even have time to be overwhelmed with the women. They gave her food and drinks and hugs. They asked her how her masters was going, all about her work in the schools, how her tiny cat was doing. It was like catching up with her oldest friends.

Harry had planted himself right next to her and refused to move all night. He constantly had a hand on her: an arm around her shoulder, a hand on her leg, fingers twisted with her own. Piper was used to the affection- Harry was always so clingy. But tonight it was more than the usual. She figured he was just happy his family was here and tipsy on his red wine.

Around 11, Anne and Gemma started saying their goodnights and gave hugs all around.

“I’m making a full English tomorrow for breakfast so you better be here hungry,” Anne squeezed Piper tightly.

“Mum’s gonna proper spoil ya tomorrow,” Gemma giggled in Piper’s ear.

Anne whispered in Harry’s ear and his cheeks turned a dark pink before he kissed her cheek and ushered the women out the door.

“What’d she say?” Piper asked him.

“Nothing,” Harry shook his head and chuckled. “Let’s get ready for bed.”

“Ok, let me grab my phone and we can leave.”

“What? No. You’re staying over.”

“I’m not staying over when you’re family is getting here early. Especially on Christmas Eve.”

“It being Christmas Eve is all the more reason to stay.” He replied quickly, the smirk he wore turning it into a game.

“Your couch is covered in presents from your mom.”

“You’re taking the bed so that’s not an issue.” He smirked, thinking he was winning

“What about you?” This was Piper’s winning move. There was not enough room in this apartment for both of them.

“Well, I was taking the bed, too, actually.”

Oh.

The butterflies erupted in her belly. He wanted to share a bed. With her. They had spent the night at each other’s places before, but always on the couch or the floor in front of the Netflix marathon they were in the middle of watching. This was so different. They would be so close, bodies almost touching, all night. There was no way Piper would get any sleep if he were that close. She stood there, guppying her mouth open and closed. The glint in Harry’s eye told her that this was the reaction he was going for.

“Only if you’re ok with it, that is.”

“Yeah. No. Why wouldn’t I be fine with it? I’m totally fine with it.” She was rambling now. It was just making her butterflies worse.

Harry nodded his head once and started to lock up the front door. Piper took a deep breath. It was too shaky to bring her any comfort as Harry called over to tell her he was going back to his room to change. This did nothing to steady the shaky breaths Piper pulled into her lungs. She took one final breath and started back to the bedroom. With a small knock, Piper checked to see if Harry was decent.

“Come in, lovey,” she heard through the door. So she opened the door to find Harry ready for bed. Her eyes scanned from his slightly messy curls down the inked skin of his toned torso all the way to the grey joggers resting low on his hips. He was so beautiful that Piper almost let out a sigh.

“Looks like you’re overdressed. I thought you might want this so I pulled it out for you.” Harry pointed to the worn Rolling Stones t-shirt that Piper stole every time she could her hands on it. She smiled to herself as she picked up the shirt and held it gently in her hands.

“I’ll- um, well, I’ll let you change real quick.” He hesitated and then walked out of the room, closing the door behind him. Piper quickly switched clothing. Looking in the mirror hanging on Harry’s closet door, she tugged the bottom of the t-shirt down just a little more. It skimmed her thighs and the bottom of her panties were just peeking out. There was a small knock on the door before Harry stuck his head in and stopped. His eyes widened as he took in the girl standing in front of his mirror. He cleared his throat and Piper turned around, still tugging at the bottom of the borrowed shirt.

“It’s a little short,” she said quietly.

“Mmm,” was all he did to acknowledge her statement. He just looked at Piper.

“Well I’m getting kind of tired, so…”

This seemed to shake him awake, “Yeah, of course. I’ll get the lights.” Piper climbed into the right side of the bed while Harry switched off the overhead lights and plugged in the strand of fairy lights above the bed. He climbed in beside Piper and didn’t hesitate to wrap his arms around her. At first touch, Piper stiffened. Her skin tingled. But she relaxed into Harry’s touch when he placed a gentle kiss to her hair.

And that’s how they slept the whole night. With Harry’s arms around Piper and her cuddled into his chest.

Piper woke up to the sound of soft laughter and the smell of breakfast cooking. Piper quickly pulled on a pair of boxers she found in Harry’s drawers and walked out to the kitchen to Anne cooking at the stove, Gemma rummaging in the fridge, and Harry standing by the toaster.

Anne was the first to notice her, “Oh! Piper! Harry told me you’re a vegetarian. Gem is, too, so there are tons of things for you two to eat.” Piper smiled as she said her thanks. Harry looked over at her, face lighting up. He walked over to her and wrapped her in a hug. His tall frame towered over her as he whispered, “Ya look so cute in my clothes, lovey.”

Piper’s cheeks burned as she pulled away. She asked Anne for something to help with. She was tasked with cutting the bread for the toast that Harry was buttering. After their full English, the four started the present opening. Piper took over the job of photographer for the crew, capturing the reactions to each present and each sweet moment between the family members. She was shocked when the last two presents had her name on them. Harry handed them to her. One had her name printed in beautiful handwriting and the other had her name scrawled on it in Harry’s messy handwriting. Piper looked at the three people surrounding her, mouth agape.

“We hoped we would get to see you while we were out here so we got you a gift. I hope you don’t mind,” Anne told her gently. Piper opened the gift from the women with shaking hands. The paper opened up to a deep red leather-bound journal with her name pressed into the bottom right corner in a swirling script. A long satin ribbon was sticking out of the book, marking the first page. Piper spent way too much of her free time journaling, already filling up 3 journals this year. This was a perfect addition to her collection. She thanked the women with tears in her eyes.

“Of course, sweet girl! You’ve brought so much happiness to Harry’s life, it’s the least we could do. Harry told us you always have a journal with you and go through them so quickly.”

“My turn now,” Harry nudged the next gift toward her.

“I don’t have yours here,” Piper replied as she picked up the gift.

“Doesn’t matter, love.” Piper pulled the paper away and she was met with a box to open. She looked over to Harry with a confused look and he just nodded at her to keep going. She took the top off and gasped. Sitting inside were tickets. Tickets to her favorite artist. Tickets in the front row. The tickets she had tried so hard to get when they went on sale but sold out before she could get any. She had saved up for months to get these tickets. Piper looked up at Harry. He was just smiling, dimples popping. She couldn’t stop the tears from rolling down her cheeks.

“Did I mess up, lovey? These are the ones you wanted, right? I got two so I could go with you, if that’s ok,” Harry worried.

Piper just nodded, trying to calm down her breathing. She threw her arms around his neck. He returned her hug, pulling her close and kissing her hair again. She drew away, wiping at her eyes.

“Thank you all so much.”

The rest of the afternoon was filled with giggles as they all cleaned up the aftermath of the gift exchange. Piper couldn’t remember a Christmas that she felt this loved and this cared for.

#Harry Styles #hary styles fanfiction #harry styles imagine #harry styles au #harry styles x ofc

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ollyarchive · 5 years

Photo

My son the global pop star? Olly Alexander's mum Vicki Thornton talks about growing up gay in Gloucestershire, Gogglebox and Glastonbury

Olly Alexander's mum speaks candidly about being mother of the flamboyant Years and Years frontman

Watching Vicki Thornton on the Celebrity Gogglebox sofa it would be easy to imagine that having a famous child is an easy passport to the good life.

Every Friday night for weeks the Forest of Dean mum-of-two has been on TV sipping Prosecco while commenting on TV programmes with son Olly Alexander, the flamboyant frontman with the chart-topping band Years & Years.

On the face of it it’s been a charmed motherhood. First she watched the talented young man leave college to succeed as an actor, treading the boards as Peter Pan in a play with Judi Dench and appearing in movies such as Gulliver’s Travels, The Riot Club and Great Expectations.

Within a few years he appeared to seamlessly achieve global musical success with a chart-topping band and which led to a much applauded appearance on the Pyramid stage at Glastonbury Festival 2019. This weekend he is appearing on the same stage as Ariana Grande at Manchester Pride.

Yet anybody who follows Olly knows it’s not all been red carpet premieres, backstage passes and Gogglebox for Vicky, it’s also been about hearing uncomfortable truths about a son who has used his growing success as a platform to publicly campaign for LGBT rights.

Growing Up Gay

Not only has she had to listen to how he secretly self-harmed and developed bulimia as a closet gay teenager growing up in the Forest of Dean, but in 2017 she also bravely agreed to appear in an an emotional BBC Three documentary about how it can lead to mental health issues.

In Growing Up Gay Olly admitted that just driving home back to sleepy Coleford with the film crew stirred up such painful memories that it made him feel physically sick.

If that wasn’t difficult enough to hear, Vicki learned that Olly, who attended St John’s Cof E Primary School in Coleford and Monmouth Comprehensive, had been unable to tell anyone that he was being bullied from a young age because he had long hair and seemed gay.

“When he asked if I would do the documentary, it was a bit of a decision to make because I knew it would mean digging up the past and going further into the reasons for the problem,” said community artist Vicki.

“ I knew that having to face up to issues I was not aware of at the time was going to be a very difficult process, but if it was going to help Olly and other people in similar situations I had to do it.

“I had to be open and honest about everything which meant confronting my own feelings of guilt. You have to openly accept that you may have made some bad choices and decisions but you are human. It’s not about making excuses, it’s about learning from your mistakes.”

The documentary was so painful that the producers had Vicki assessed psychologically to make sure she could deal with the deeply personal issues it raised and arranged for her to have counselling beforehand.

Still a much watched video on iPlayer, it shows them sifting through photographs and videos of what his mum thought was a happy, innocent childhood on a beautiful part of the world.

“Going through the family history you see all these little happy, innocent little faces” said Vicky who also has an older son who has aspergers syndrome. “It’s terrible to think somebody could be hurting them.

“I think the bullying was mostly mental but when someone is full of joy and happiness and somebody else comes along and closes that down, it is the saddest thing.

“As parents you think you know what’s going on, you think that they are safe, they are happy, they are fed, all the boxes are ticked. But you don’t know the half of it.

“The little things I heard about what happened to Olly that he and his brother have talked about, are awful.”

Everyone thinks their child is amazing but I knew Olly was special

Community artist Vicki said she knew “in her bones” even before Olly, 29, was born that he would go on do great things.

“Every mother thinks that, and every child is amazing, but I knew that this child was different, there was something there,” she said.

“Olly was always a bright, funny, happy child, full of life. He was such a bouncy, lovely little cherub that I could never get cross with him, ever.

“On the rare occasion that he would throw a tantrum I would find it funny and just laugh at him. He would just stand and scream blue murder and it was just hilarious.”

Life in the Forest of Dean

Their early days were spent living near theme parks that his father promoted but in 1997 the family moved to the Forest of Dean where his parents set about creating a model village tourist attraction.

It was a musical, creative, left leaning household and although he loves Rihanna, and famously met the singer on the Graham Norton show, Olly, credits much of his influences to listening to his mother’s tapes of Nina Simone, Joni Mitchell and Stevie Wonder. She was one of the founders of the local music festival where Olly cut his teeth.

“I used to be a puppeteer actor in an education travelling theatre company in the late 1980s," said Vicky when asked about her bohemian background.

“When I was younger I was also a backing singer in a band called Innamanna. We played the Marquee in London and did some recording but when we had to decide ‘do we stick with this or carry on with our careers?’ it folded.

"But I couldn’t stand on a stage in front of thousands of people like Olly does. I would die.”

Olly as a boy

It was clear that Olly had inherited her artistic streak and although a talented gymnast and able academic, he concentrated on music and drama, later saying it was because he felt at home with the weird kids.

Vicki remembers him being very driven, open minded and very focussed.

“Olly taught himself to play the piano and to sing and there was always a healthy competition with his best friend Joe to get the best parts in the school plays,” recalled Vicki

“He was always singing all over the house. He loved Disney and he would get old song books full of the classics and teach himself on the piano.

“He did not want to be in musicals but loved the singing and performance side of it.”

I did not realise there was so much pain going on inside.

In the documentary the talented singer songwriter says that he did not have the vocabulary to put how he was feeling into words and felt too ashamed to admit it anybody he was gay. Even his mother. He desperately wanted to be straight so he never admitted it.

“On the surface he was a real high achiever so I had no idea there was so much starting to bubble up as a young teenager,” said Vicki.

“I thought the sky was the limit for him. I thought he could do anything he could put his mind to but I did not realise there was so much pain going on inside.”

“Because he was always fun happy, smiley, lovely child achieving lots of things at school, I thought things were fine.

“Probably my eye was off the ball because I was going through a lot of life changes at the time and maybe I was in denial that there was something going wrong.”

Marriage split

In an interview last year with the former Labour spin doctor Alastair Campbell, Olly says his diaries show a clear link between his father leaving and creating a “family implosion” and his mental health health issues developing around he age of 13.

They are estranged but met up when his father contacted Olly through Twitter and in subsequent interviews it’s clear the singer was less than impressed with the reality as opposed to the imagined version of an aspiring musician father who he had always wanted to impress.

“Splitting up with their dad made life a lot harder, definitely financially, and so life was a big struggle,” said Vicki.

“That’s probably part of the reason why I had my eye off the ball. I was distracted doing other things, so we were a bit dysfunctional or a while, which I feel guilty about.

“But I don’t feel guilty about that relationship ending at all, both for the boys and myself.”

Coming out

She says although from the outside it looked like Olly was enjoying a glittering lifestyle after leaving sixth form college to travel abroad filming the movie Summerhill, he was often penniless and had to take jobs such as selling hot dogs on the South Bank in between the contracts. She wasn’t in a position to help pay the rent either.

He was 18 or 19 and involved in the gay party scene in London when he plucked up the courage to pick up the phone and tell her outright that he was gay.

Vicki said: “He had said to me once ‘I don’t think you are going to have any grandchildren’. Not taking the hint, I said ‘well never say never’.

“He obviously got to the point where he thought ‘I’d better actually say it to mum because she doesn’t get it’.

“He phoned me up and said ‘you do know I am gay don’t you?’ . I said ‘Are you? OK’ and that was it really. I suppose I had a feeling he might be but maybe I didn’t want to confirm that because of fear about what his life might become because of all the homophobia out there.”

Vicky told told her elderly mother, who sang on Broadway with the D’ Oyly opera company before cutting her career short to get married and have a family.

“Her immediate reaction was ‘but he will not be able to go to Africa, it’s illegal in Africa’, laughed Vicky about her 89-year-old mother who follows her grandson avidly on social media and has even seen Years & Years in concert.

“Like me, she doesn’t want to see him marginalised because marginalised sections of society can attract a lot of negative behaviour. Nobody wants to see their nearest and dearest suffer from that.”

I just hope kids today aren’t going through the same thing

From that moment on Vicky has worried about her son being the victim of homophobia and although she is intensely proud, she still fears that being a figurehead for equality could make him a target.

“I wish he felt he could have talked to me and maybe I could have prevented all of that, but I understand that is very difficult for young people,” she said.

“I remember that feeling of not being able to talk to my parents and I just hope kids today aren’t going through the same thing. They get more support at school than they did 15 years ago but bullying and social media trolling still happens.

“I do worry about him being exposed to bigotry and homophobia. it’s not nice to think about your child living in fear.”

In an interview last year Olly was asked if he ever wanted to confront the bullies who made his life miserable growing up but he said he doesn’t think about it much any more because his life had changed so much.

He said he still takes anti-depressants, has weekly therapy sessions and works out a lot to keep his mental and physical health on track.

While campaigning for more to be done to prevent male suicide after being named as GQ Man of the Year, he admitted he still has occasional days when he doesn’t want to get out of bed because his life does not feel worth living and can be too frightened to go on stage, or cries when he comes off. He hides behind outlandish costumes and make up.

The fun side of having a famous son

It's clear that there is a close bond between mother and son and Olly likes her to share in his successes.

For instance in the early days the pop star arranged for her to wear an expensive diamond necklace to the red carpet premiere of Great Expectations in which he played Herbert Pocket.

“It was insane,” said Vicki. “ We had taxi from where he lived to the red carpet and there was all these people at the barriers.

“I thought they are going to be so disappointed when I get out because I’m no-one. Somebody took me to one side while Olly went off to meet the paparazzi and because it was raining they put a brolly over my head.

“Then we went in and watched the film which was mind-blowing because I was sat next to some of the actor’s. When it was finished we went to the after-party which was all very very glam.”

Naturally shy, Vicky was overawed to meet the likes of Jeremy Irvine, who starred in War Horse.

“I was quite overwhelmed by it all at first but I have got more relaxed about being in that kind of environment,” she said.

“The whole thing is a bit surreal really. It’s a bit like a film in itself. Once I was this close to Helen Bonham Carter who I think is fantastic, but you don’t want to go up to people saying ‘I love you’.

“Olly told me once, that when they started filming he actually said to her ‘I love you Helen Bonham Carter’ and and she said ‘I would love you too if I knew who you were’, but she later came to the stage door to congratulate him after Alice and Peter.”

More recently Vicky was overwhelmed when she was introduced the men from one of her favourite TV programmes, the Netflix series Queer Eye, at Radio One’s Big Weekend in Swansea.

“I love watching them but when Olly introduced me I didn’t know what to say and was stuck for words because I get so tongue tied,” she admitted.

Gogglebox

The star is protective of Vickyi who does not even like speaking on the stage at Coleford Music Festival but told her it was time for her to come out of her shell for Gogglebox.

“It’s different because there isn’t anybody else in the room and it’s all about Olly because that’s who they are interested in,” she said of the TV show.

“It feels really nice sitting there together eating snacks, drinking Prosecco and enjoying each other’s company, but I don’t think I have anything really interesting to say.

“You are thinking ‘should I be on my best behaviour because I’m on tele or should I be like I am at home?’. There is a little conflict going on in your head but it’s really good fun.

“It’s weird watching yourself back, seeing what you do, what you sound like and the faces you pull. I didn’t realise I pulled so many weird faces.”

Every week she has to decide on a comfortable top for sitting on the sofa and says they did initially consider getting matching onesies and really mad slippers but decided against it.

She shares TV tastes with her son who loves programmes such as Killing Eve and Stranger Things and Fleabag. They also love Gogglebox, especially Rylan Clark Neal and his mother and Chris Eubank and his son. She was delighted when Rylan sent a lovely message to Olly about her.

“If Olly likes something I will give it a go because I know I will probably like it,” she says. “I would never have watched Love Island if Olly hadn’t watched it. “

Staying true to yourself

Before the Years and Years single Communion catapulted the band into into the charts, Vicky had another important phone call from the Shine singer.

“He said they didn’t want him to say he was gay and he was really cross about it because didn’t want to pretend to be something he wasn’t” she said.

“I told him to stick to his guns, that you have to be true to yourself for anything to be real. I have taught them that if they are kind, truthful and respectful to other people, everything else will follow.”

Olly took her advice and when she first went to Glastonbury to see him burst onto the John Peel stage in 2015 wearing a rainbow, Pride suit he was involved in a very public relationship with Neil Milan from Clean Bandit who were playing the Pyramid stage.

Although in pop star mode he is happy to speak openly about his own sexuality and ongoing struggles with anxiety, Olly also admits that the fairytale of fame and fortune has not proved the antidote to depression and he remains a leading advocate for mental health issues.

In fact Gay Times described him as one of the most influential gay pop stars of this generation and added: "All hail the King!”

Glastonbury 2019

Vicky was astounded by how big it has become since the days she used to go and got lost for hours on the first night after deciding to camp for the weekend.

On Sunday Olly arranged for Vicky, her partner Kev and Coleford Mayor Nick Penny to go backstage and then watch from the Pyramid Stage balcony as he gave a widely-applauded, eloquent moving speech marking the 50th anniversary of the Stonewall riots.

Many say the speech appealing for compassion and a society that does not leave anybody behind was the highlight of the festival.

“It’s not the best view because you cannot see what’s happening from the front, but just to be there looking out from the stage and seeing all those thousands and thousands of people who are all there to see Years and Years and Olly, well it was just mesmerising,” she said.

“That whole feeling of emotion, the pride, It’s like when you see your child in a nativity play but a million times over.

“I knew he was going to make a speech and I knew that knowing Olly it was going to be special, but I did not did not know the content or when he was going to say it.

“I was just so proud and when I got home I had to watch it over and over again.”

“I cannot believe how brave and strong Olly is about what he believes in. I admire that in him so much and have so much respect for him to be able to do that.”

The feeling is mutual and Olly has repeatedly spoken about how proud he was of his mum to speak so openly about his childhood in the documentary even though she is not to blame for his troubles.

Olly takes care of his family

Although he spends long periods touring with the band, when he is in London Olly has a small set of friends from home who he has known since primary school which Vickis believes it is good for his sanity.

He recently spoke about how good it has been going from being too skint to go out to be able to help his family out financially and pay for the drinks on a night out.

Thanks to Olly buying her a new house Vicky has moved from the small cottage in the centre of Coleford where she would get the odd knock on the door from Years and Years fans pretending to be looking for a non existent neighbour.

Speaking to her it’s clear that have a famous child is not too much different than having any other. You always feel guilty, you are very proud of their achievements, you want them to happy, you worry about them being safe and you lose your name. At one festival she spotted a flag saying “Olly’s Mum”, something parents all over the world can identify with.

“As a parent I think you always feel guilty, but I’m proud that Olly has grown into this amazing human being,” says Vicki who has been on a journey alongside her famous son.

“It’s such an amazing thing to have happened that to try and get your head around it all is impossible, so you don’t bother.

“Lots of people ask about him and say things like – ‘your boy’s doing well’ and I think ‘just a bit’. On the whole though, life just carries on as normal.”

#ollyalexander #years & years #yearsandyears #2019 #palo santo #photo #vicki #olly'smum #olly's mum #mum #articles #interviews

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singledarkshade · 4 years

Text

What Happened To Amelia Pond

Chapter Three – Taking Chances Author’s Note: Next chapter for What Happened To Amelia Pond, after Searching. ********************************************* “Rory?” Patricia offered him the mug of tea, he took it silently, sadness covering his face. Crouching at his side she gently stroked his arm, “I know this is hard but she’s alive, that’s a good thing.”

Taking a drink of his tea, Rory shrugged.

The Doctor, who had been standing in silence in one corner of the hall since they’d returned to the house, suddenly walked into the kitchen. He then turned and walked upstairs to what had been Amelia’s bedroom before he ran back down to the garden.

“What are you doing?” Rory demanded when the other man finally stopped.

“Working through events,” the Doctor replied before turning to Rory again. Reaching out to cup the younger man’s cheek, he said, “I’m going to fix this. We’re going to get her back.”

Pulling back Rory demanded, “How?”

Hesitating, the Doctor finally admitted, “I’m not sure right now but,” he caught Rory’s arms again so the younger man would look up at him, “I will.”

“Did they tell you what they wanted you for?” Josh asked thoughtfully.

Rory grimaced, “The woman said all they needed was for me to do one thing.”

“That’s concerning,” Patricia mused, “Any ideas what she meant by that?”

Rory shook his head, “I need some time alone.” As he started to walk away from them all three yelled his name. He paused and turned back, “I am going to my room in the TARDIS.”

Patricia moved to his side, “We’re just worried after what happened earlier.”

“I know,” he said softly, “But I need some time alone.”

Without another word he walked to the blue box sitting beside the house and disappeared inside.

Patricia watched Rory leave before she turned to the man standing beside her, “Doctor, I know you’ve promised Rory that you’ll find Amelia, but you have to protect him. Rory is blind when it comes to Amelia. She means the world to him and now he knows she’s alive…” she sighed, “You need to protect him.”

The Doctor gently nodded, “Always.”

Josh grimaced, “If he lets you.” At his fiancée’s stern look, Josh shrugged, “You know Rory.”

“Why don’t you both head back inside,” the Doctor suggested, “Be here to keep Rory from going off on his own. I need to look around the village for any clues where these people have gone.”

“Doctor,” Patricia called, “What if they come back?”

He shook his head, “They’re after Rory. He’s safe inside the TARDIS. If they come back, join him. She’ll let you in.”

The Doctor rested his hands on each of their arms, “I am going to protect you all, I promise. But I have to try to save Amelia.”

With a nod he stalked away with determination. Patricia and Josh watched him leave, Josh wrapped his arm around her.

“Come on,” he ushered her back inside, both hoping the Doctor was able to protect their friend.

Rory sat on his bed with his knees pulled up to his chest as he went through every second that he’d spent with Amelia…Amy. Trying to look for clues in their interaction, in case she’d given him any information that he could use to find her again.

Pushing himself off the bed he began to pace, hoping to clear his head because all he could think of was the look on her face when they pulled her away. He began to walk the corridors of the TARDIS, needing to get rid of the energy filling his body and found himself in the control room. Where a mobile phone sat on the console in front of him.

Rory began to wonder if she still had his phone, he didn’t remember her putting it down after taking it from him. Picking up the phone he typed a quick message before tapping in his number and sending it.

Taking a seat on the stairs he waited, hoping she’d answer.

Amy dropped onto her bed in relief. Madam Kovarian had punished her for not obeying orders and talking to Rory instead of calling them.

But she’d seen him and couldn’t resist talking to him. Then Amy started to remember how much she missed him.

Rory had been her best friend; he would almost always do whatever she wanted, and he was always there to listen when Aunt Sharon annoyed her. She remembered when Aunt Sharon had told her that he had been in a car accident with his mum and dad, how the cold fear that she would never see him again filled her. She’d cried learning that his mum had died, because Mrs Williams always been so nice.

Amy had hugged him tightly when she saw him a few days later, sitting in his room with him and talked for him because he didn’t want to talk to anyone but her at that time.

She hadn’t meant to leave him for so long, but in order for the plan Madam Kovarian developed to save the universe they had to be adults when they saw one another again.

And Amy had believed in it.

Seeing her jacket on the floor, Amy picked it up knowing she’d be punished for leaving it there, surprised at the weight. Searching the pockets, she found Rory’s phone. Pushing the button, the screen lit up and she saw there was a message waiting for him. Wondering who was contacting him curiosity got the better of her.

Amy, it said, Code is the day and month we first met.

Smiling to herself, Amy entered in 0507, the 5th July. The first full day she’d been in Leadworth. To her joy, it unlocked the phone and Amy smiled.

Part of her knew she should tell Madam Kovarian that she had this, but she wanted to make sure he was alright first. Amy couldn’t get the look on his face out of her mind, the pleading in his eyes for her to stay this time.

Opening the emails and messages, Amy frowned to see there were very few personnel ones. She didn’t understand why he didn’t have more friends because Rory was the best friend anyone could ever have.

Opening the pictures on the phone, she frowned. There some with the Doctor as well as the man and woman who had been with the Time Lord. Reaching the end, Amy smiled when she found one of her. It looked as though it was a picture of a photograph, but he kept a picture of her with him and warmth blossomed in Amy.

She bit her lip in thought. He’d wanted her to be able to unlock the phone meaning he wanted her to contact him.

Taking a breath, she typed:

I remember.

Sending the two words, she sat and watched the screen. Waiting. Hoping he’d contact her again. When the phone buzzed, she grabbed it.

Are you alright? Have they hurt you after today?

Amy smiled at his concern.

I’m fine. Did the Doctor hurt you?

Of course not. He’s my friend. We’ve been trying to find you.

Rory sat on the stairs of the TARDIS relieved Amy still had his phone and had answered him. He was concerned that she thought the Doctor was not the good man he was and worried what the people who had taken her had done to make her believe this.

Where are you?

He knew it was a long shot she’d tell him, but he needed to try.

I think about you every day, Amy’s next message said ignoring his question, I didn’t want to leave you, but they told me it was for protection.

Protection from what?

Rory watched the screen and waited for her to reply.

Do you forgive me for leaving?

He sighed that she wouldn’t answer his questions but if these people had programmed her to believe that the Doctor was bad then he had to be very careful.

Of course I do, he paused for a moment before asking, Do you forgive me for not recognising you earlier?

A few seconds later she replied, Yes. I shouldn’t have surprised you like that, but I was so excited to see you again.

I’ve been trying to find you, Rory typed back, With the Doctor’s help. I never forgot you and thought of you every day.

No answer came through for several minutes and Rory began to worry. Finally a message came through

Will you meet me? Just us, I promise.

Rory stared at her message. He wanted to tell her yes, he desperately wanted to, but he couldn’t trust her. Could he?

Rory, please come and meet me.

Wrapping his arms around his knees, Rory debated with himself. He wanted to see her, to make sure she was alright and hopefully talk her into coming home. But after what happened he knew he had to be careful.

Meet me at the spot we would count clouds.

It was a bit obscure but only Amy and Rory would know where that was. Plus it meant he knew he could see if anyone followed her.

I’ll see you in an hour.

*********************************************

Rory had never been that good at climbing trees as a kid. He’d fallen out one at the age of six, after Amelia had goaded him into climbing it, and broken his arm. Which led to him sitting in a hospital with Amelia holding his other hand, tears filling her eyes that he was hurt. However, since meeting the Doctor his climbing skills, along with running and computer abilities had grown exponentially. Which was why he’d chosen this spot to meet Amy.

Since they had been children the trees in the area had grown and there were several that he was able to hide in so he could watch to make sure there was no one following her.

Sneaking away hadn’t been easy but Rory knew how to be move quietly so people didn’t see him. Although he had brought the phone and had it set up ready to call for help if needed.

He spotted her easily, her long red hair streaming behind her as she ran through the field. Rory smiled to see that the little girl he had known was still in there somewhere.

Amy found their old spot at the big rock and took a seat, she leaned back on the flat surface and smiled as she lay in the sun.

Rory waited for about ten more minutes, watching Amy and ensuring that no one was waiting in the wings to try to grab him again.

Finally, feeling assured she’d come alone Rory climbed down and moved slowly to her.

“Amy,” he said softly.

Her head came up and a bright smile covered her face, “Rory!!!”

Amy jumped up and ran to him, throwing her arms around him tightly to his surprise.

“You’re okay?” Amy pulled back and started to check that he wasn’t injured after what happened that morning.

“I told you I was,” Rory smiled, he brushed her hair back and asked, “Are you?”

Amy nodded before she hugged him again. Rory closed his eyes and held her to him, sighing happy that he’d found her.

“I can’t stay long,” Amy spoke up after a few minutes, not moving from their embrace, “Madam Kovarian will be looking for me soon.”

“You know you don’t have to go back,” Rory said, “You can stay with me,” he winced when she pulled away, “Amy…”

“I can’t,” she whispered.

Rory took her face in his hands, “Yes, you can. You might not remember but I do. Amelia Pond who did nothing that anyone told her. Who took orders as suggestions,” he smiled sweetly at her, “Who persuaded me to break rules.”

A smile touched her lips, “You were always so nervy whenever we did something we weren’t supposed to.”

He nodded, “And then you were gone.”

Sadly she looked away, stepping back to take a seat again.

“My best friend,” Rory continued, sitting at her side, “Who promised she’d never leave me like my mum and dad did.”

“Rory,” she grabbed his hand, “I didn’t want to leave you but…”

“But?” he demanded when she trailed off.

Amy sighed, leaning against his shoulder, “It used to be so clear. Until I saw you again. It doesn’t make sense anymore.”

Rory rests his head against hers whispering, “Then stay. Come back with me and forget whatever they told you. It’s nonsense.”

“I…”

“Trust me,” Rory breathed turning her to look at him.

Amy nodded, wrapping her arms around him in a tight hug.

Holding her Rory knew he had his best friend back and, at that moment, nothing else mattered.

#fic #doctor who #rory williams #amy pond #eleventh doctor #au - canon divergence

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myotishia · 5 years

Text

Masquerade part one

Fandom: Torchwood. Trigger warnings: None as far as I know but feel free to suggest. Characters: Owen Harper, Toshiko Sato, Jack Harkness, Ianto Jones, Gwen Cooper, Elise Carter (oc) Rating: Teen and up

Blurb: The police and Torchwoods relationship had calmed in recent months but one officer just can’t seem to let it go. Meanwhile the team get a second chance to defeat an old foe.

Sergeant Farrell grumbled as he found another redacted file pertaining to a case linked to this mysterious Torchwood. The most he’d gotten from his research was that Gwen Cooper used to be a police officer and she moved on to being a police liaison, but even her current residential address had been struck from the record. And as for this Elise Carter there was even less. The only thing he could find for her was that she had a current drivers licence. It was ridiculous. All he knew was wherever the name Torchwood appeared people died and he was certain these people were not special branch. To him it felt more like organised crime. No legitimate law enforcement branch would have two women in from what he guessed were their twenties sent to a murder scene. Just because the rest of his department were frightened of this group didn’t mean he was.

Ianto flinched as Owen examined the healing bite on his neck. The bruising had gone down a lot but it was still there. It just didn’t need painkillers anymore.

“Looks fine. I’m happy to clear you to go back to general duties if you’re ready.” Owen said, all business.

“I am… I’ve started to remember more of what happened.”

“Yea?”

“Mm… I was going to die, wasn’t I?”

Owen paused. “You were close to it. How’d you guess?”

“You called me by my name. You only do that when someone’s dying or practically dead.”

“You lost about 38%. I wasn’t sure if we were going to get you stabilized in time. Elise risked space jumping with you to get you here faster. We’re lucky it worked.”

“Shit… I don’t even know how long I was down there.”

“Neither do we, that’s the problem when you disappear all day.”

Ianto pulled his shirt back on and buttoned it up. “I’ll have to check in more often.”

“Yea, I don’t plan on starting to make my own coffee now. Got that tea boy?”

“Definitely not dying anymore then.” He rolled his eyes.

Gwen sat next to a tearful woman, trying to console her.

“I just don’t understand. Was it something I did?”

“No, no of course not.” She soothed, , knowing the woman would never get the answers she wanted. Her husband had found a device while metal detecting which was essentially a teleporter. Sadly it was a one way device and there was no way to reverse it. Gwen was having to tell the woman that though they didn’t know where he was he had bought tickets to fly to Egypt one way. Sometimes lying to someone's face was part of the job. Jack was waiting in the SUV having secured the device. Years ago he would have just left the whole thing as a missing persons case but Gwen insisted on giving the family closure. He understood why but it meant a lot of waiting around. As if feeling his boredom on the air he got a call from Tosh.

“Calling me in secret? That’s pretty scandalous.” He smiled to himself.

“We just intercepted a party invitation.”

“I think we could throw our own parties if we wanted to.”

“No, a very specific party, complete with an auction.”

“I suppose they didn’t learn their lesson from the last time we crashed their little get together. Where is it being held this time?”

“I’m not sure yet. It looks like they’re being more careful this time.”

“Keep at it. I’m kind of interested what this years theme’s going to be.”

“I’m sure it’ll be over the top.”

“You liked the designer dress you got to wear last time.”

“Yes and it cost more than my car, that’s insane. Owen’s not going to be happy.”

“One day of wearing a suit won’t kill him. I’ll tell everyone when I get back.”

“You just want to see the look on his face.”

“Just like last time.”

The party had been more than lavish last time they attended. It had been a black market auction of alien technology, attended by a huge group of wealthy collectors. The man running the event had escaped the last time but this time Jack was sure he was going to catch him. He couldn’t let it continue and those working for the host had become bolder and more aggressive over the years. Especially towards Torchwood. Just before the last event he’d been essentially mugged for an item, and he never liked reviving in a damp aliway. There was always a chance of waking up to a rat gnawing on your fingers.

Elise picked up a small box that had fallen from one of the storage cases she’d been helping to move, blowing the dust away from the surface. Tarot cards. All the items she’d been moving were very old and completely safe, they’d just been there so long it would be a pain to sort them. Plus sometimes they came in handy.

“You’re already finished?” Ianto asked, arriving in the archive room.

“Oh, hi. Yea, all done.”

“What did you find?”

“Old tarot cards. Every played with these?”

“Not that deck but I had a friend who was into that kind of thing once. You?”

“I have no psychic skill whatsoever. I like the art though.”

“You can keep them if you want. None of this is particularly important so better you have them than leave them to collect more dust.”

“Thanks. Hey, I was wondering. I know when an agent passes they don’t usually get buried, but what happens to their things?”

“Storage usually. General items get sold or disposed of, anything that was important to them gets put into storage and clothing gets stored for a time just in case anything was left in the pockets. Apparently around fifty years ago an agent left an object in his coat. The coat got sold off and the next owner ended up with their brain trapped in a feedback loop.”

“Lovely. No wonder this place can get so cluttered. No offence.”

“None taken. Any part of this place I’ve had control of is in perfect order. I can’t say the same for my predecessors.”

“Are there any interesting pieces stored?”

“I wish there were. For now it’s pretty dull.”

“Aww, shame. If we’re all done here want to go play with these until we’re needed?”

Gwen slumped down into her chair.

“Rough morning?” Asked Tosh sympathetically.

“I didn’t even know what to say to her. Her husband’s gone and she’s a stay at home mum.”

“Poor thing.”

“How’s your morning going?”

“I found a couple of things but Jack wanted to look them over before we go ahead with anything else.”

“Fun. How’s the house search going?”

“We found a place we like. We’ve just got to get the lock modifications approved. It should take too long.”

“Just ask if you need a hand moving boxes or anything.”

“Thanks.” She looked over at Elise and Ianto, sitting playing with the tarot cards. “It’s funny, I don’t think I’ve ever seen Ianto that relaxed or happy.”

“I suppose they’ve spent a lot of time together. I wonder what it was like here is her timeline.”

“From what she’s told me it was depressing… And gone by now.”

“Gone?”

“Only you and Jack left. Even then with the hub gone things weren’t as they should have been.”

“What does it take to give up your entire life for people you’ve never met.”

“Isn’t that what we do every day?”

“I honestly hadn’t looked at it that way.”

“It looks like our gracious host has returned and plans to throw another auction and we all know what that means.” Announced Jack, a little more enthusiastically than he probably should have. Owen sighed, looking exasperated.

Elise and Gwen looked over at each other, confused. Gwen was the first to speak up. “This feels like something I missed.”

“It’s some jumped up rich arsehole that collects alien junk and auctions it off at a posh do for other rich nobs.” Owen grumbled.

“So we stop it before it happens?”

“Not exactly. They’re careful and have the cash to keep themselves off our radar so we have to infiltrate the party. That means…”

Tosh giggled. “Owen in a suit.”

“Oh fuck off.” He groaned. “It was bad enough last time. And now we have to make sure none of us go out alone because they get stabby when you tell them no.”

“What are they, the mob?” Elise asked.

Jack shrugged. “Close enough. Last time we managed to confiscate everything from the back of the auction room before they could sell them all off. I’m thinking of spiking the wine this year. They all do the opening toast, everyone claps, everyone passes out. The host won’t escape this time.”

Owen smirked, coming out of his strop. “Taking it personally Harkness?”

“He was in my grasp and one of his servants tazed me. It won’t happen again.”

Elise paused. “And they let you just walk in?”

“It’s a masquerade ball, no one knows who anyone is.”

“Won’t they be expecting us?”

“They always do. While I’m thinking about it. Ianto, I need you to send out a warning message to all of our refugee status citizens. Last time we had some of our hosts workers scoping them out.”

Ianto nodded.

“Refugee status?” Elise asked.

“If there’s no way for a being to get back to their planet or if they don’t have a planet to go back to they can sometimes be granted refugee status on Earth. They’re relocated into a Torchwood safehouse and essentially have to stay out of sight unless they can pass for human. It’s very rare but it does happen.” Ianto explained, noting down what he needed to do and finding the address list.

“How did I not know about this? That’s brilliant.”

“You should have seen my face when I found out. It would have helped my first impressions of the job if I had.” Gwen smiled nostalgically.

Owen crossed his arms. “You don’t get to know the good stuff until you deal with the shit the rest of us had to first.”

Sergeant Farrell stood at the scene of a burglary. The stately home had been ransacked. The owner had died only a week before of complications involved with his heart, leaving the place with no owner. The house had sat still full while the late gentlemens lawyers were sorting out who his estate would go to. It was a huge scene and though the sergeant didn’t need to be there he suspected it was just the type of scene this Torchwood institute would be involved with. Sadly they had not made an appearance yet but it didn’t change the fact that he was there so he just went back to doing his job. Something at the far side of the room caught his attention. It seemed to be some kind of gemstone, perfectly spherical, with a liquid suspended inside. The light shining through it looked blue at first but the closer he got the more purple it seemed to be. He shouldn’t touch it, he knew that, but it didn’t stop him wrapping his fingers around it. He couldn’t help it. It felt like it belonged with him. As if it had been waiting for him. No. He put it back on its small pedestal and turned to walk away but found his feet didn’t want to move. No, he couldn’t leave it for just anyone to manhandle. He gently picked it up and slid it into his pocket, feeling warm and safe. Yes, it was his. It had always been his. For a moment he couldn’t remember what he had been doing there but seeing the police car from the window seemed to clear his thoughts. A burglary, that’s what he was attending. He didn’t need to be there and couldn’t quite remember why he’d come along. It didn’t matter. He needed to get home where it was safe.

Elise patted Janets head gently and handed her a chunk of raw beef as a treat. The weevil took it and retreated to the corner to chew on it. Owen had sent Elise to give the implant to Janet as she was the only one who could just walk in there and do it without sedating or pinning down the creature. It had gone smoothly. Most weevils cowered in Elises presence but Janet had reached a point where she could be content with just bowing. Still, no one knew exactly why they did that but for now it was at least helpful.

“If only everything was as easy as this, eh? Maybe I can teach you to fetch things some time.”

She looked back to see Janet holding out a glove Elise had dropped.

“Did… Did you understand me?”

The weevil tilted her head. Elise took the other glove and gently tossed it to the corner.

“Can you fetch that for me?”

Janet looked back at the glove before retrieving it.

“Good girl.”

Janet let out a trill like noise and slowly blinked.

“Huh… Sit down.”

Janet sat on the floor and trilled again awaiting another request.

“Is it just you that listens to me or will the others listen too? What am I doing, it’s not like you can answer me even if you understand.”

She nodded then bowed, her head almost to the floor.

“All of them?”

She nodded again.

“Ok. Let me go and test it ok? You did really well. Here.” Elise handed Janet the other cube of meat she’d been keeping hold of for when she left. She left and closed the door behind her before heading back up.

“Hey, guys? Does Janet ever listen to you or do what you say?” She asked.

There was a low murmur as everyone shook their heads.

Jack decided to get more information. “Why?”

“I was just down there giving her the implant to test and she was listening. Like I was practically playing fetch with her. I thought it was a fluke but I told her to sit and she did. Then I asked her if the other weevils would listen too and she nodded. There was actual recognition there. Look on the camera for yourself. It was surreal.”

Owen wandered over and pressed the back of his hand to her forehead. “No fever, so you’re not delirious.”

Elise brushed his hand away. “I’m serious.”

“Owen she’s not joking, look at this.” Tosh said, waving him over to see what was on her screen. Jack marched over to join them and see, even turning up the sound so everyone could hear. It seemed to confirm exactly what Elise said. There was recognition of her words. Not just a vague link between a word and an action like telling a dog to fetch a stick, actual sentient recognition. They’d never seen that in a weevil before. They were base creatures, vicious and relatively untamable.

“Do we have any other captive weevils right now?” Jack asked.

“Not since Elise has been shooing them off.” Owen shrugged. “Not sure where the nearest nest is anymore. We cleared the last one out completely.”

“I don’t think I’ve ever actually wanted a weevil to turn up before but here we are.”

Sergeant Farrell locked his front door and closed the curtains, taking the gem from his pocket. The light it gave out was a lavender colour that shimmered and shone, illuminating the room. He sat in the living room, ignoring the phone ringing. It was most likely his wife who still lived in their old home. She called every night after work and he always looked forward to hearing her voice but he couldn’t drag himself away from the light. It was too beautiful. Too warm. He had to eat. Yes. The grumbling in his stomach distracted him momentarily. It could wait, he had to keep looking at the light. What if it changed? He couldn’t miss that. The light from under the curtain seemed to dull the stone to almost nothing. What time was it? Six? It was morning already? He couldn’t remember if he’d slept or not but he had to go to work. He walked unsteadily on legs that had gone quite numb past the phone, seeing a red number four flashing on the tiny screen. He’d check his missed calls later.

Jack was not impressed that he’d heard of the burglary so late. Due to there being barely anything left the police hadn’t flagged it as strange. Not only that but the death had been registered extremely late. It was a perfect storm and now almost everything was gone. Thankfully there was a safe that the burglars hadn’t gotten into and Jack had one thing that the burglars had not. Tosh. She had plugged her laptop into the digital lock for the safe and only taken five minutes to get it open. Inside the safe sat a full casing from a dalek that had made Jack jump and rattled him more than he’d like to admit. He made the excuse of seeing what was taking Gwen so long with the officers outside just to pull himself together. When he reached the door he saw one of the officers that had been posted at the entrance almost shrinking next to their superior. Said superior looked like he hadn’t slept in some time and it was hard to tell if he was glaring or just trying to keep his eyes open. Gwen looked like she was definitely glaring.

“Is there a problem officers?” He asked as he strode out towards them.

Gwen turned and smiled softly at the offer of backup. “Jack, this is Sergeant Farrell.”

“Ah yes, I’ve been told a few things about you from my staff.”

“You’re the one in charge of this outfit are you? Well you can tell all of your minions to vacate the premises. I will not have my scene contaminated by people who think they’re above the law.”

“Not above, outside the law. I thought you were informed of our status last time you tried to hinder our investigation.” Jack pulled himself to his full height, his stance as solid as possible.

“I don’t care how you put it, no one is outside of the law. You might have paid off or blackmailed everyone else but I won’t be corrupted.”

The captain laughed. “If I tried to intimidate or pay off every lawmaker in the country I’d never have time to do my job. Anyway, I prefer charm to intimidation. I can see you don’t follow the same ideology. Now, why don’t you stop wasting both my time and yours and go.”

“This isn’t over.”

“I think you’ll find it is. Unless you want me to make a few calls.”

“Was that a threat?”

“I don’t make threats, I make promises.”

“Holy fuck!” Gasped Ianto, clipboard in hand to note down the inventory from the house. He’d snapped the pencil he’d been holding in half when he’d seen the dalek casing.

“It’s dead and hollowed out. It’s even been decontaminated at some point.” Said Tosh, pointing to a tag hanging from its eye stalk. “Are you alright?”

“You’ve clearly never faced one of these things.”

“Thankfully no. I thought it looked like an upside down bin.”

“Maybe when they’re dead. They’re a nightmare alive… I’m going to have to archive this thing. Maybe I can convince Jack to have it deconstructed.”

“I don’t think that would be too difficult. He looked rather spooked when he saw it too. You can bond over shared trauma.”

“I don’t think that’s necessary somehow. I hope the other items in here aren’t as terrifying.”

“I’m sure they’re all horrific in their own unique ways.”

“Owen’s sense of humor is rubbing off on you.”

“Sorry, I think it’s contagious. Did you see the skull?”

“Skull?”

“Middle shelf, on your left.”

Ianto turned his head and looked into the hollow sockets of a weevils skull. “At least it isn’t a whole weevil. Why’s it in the safe?”

“No idea. Maybe he was trying to get hold of the other parts of the skeleton and didn’t want to display it until he did.”

“This is starting to feel more like a tomb than a safe. Nice chunk of moldavite in here at least. I’m sure someone’s going to want that.”

“I always prefered a quartz.”

“A good Earth woman. None of this meteor glass nonsense.”

Tosh chuckled. “Well, you have to support your home planet.”

“Well, he was charming.” Jack said dryly as he closed the front door behind him.

Gwen sighed.“Oh yea. Absolutely lovely.”

“It could be worse. You could be working with him.”

“Just don’t. I think I would have quit. Did Tosh get the safe open?”

“Yea. You’ll have to take a look in there for yourself. The contents were a shock I didn’t need this morning.” He stopped to look at one of the empty displays. The small gold plaque said it was a ‘deaths scythe’ that had been found in Afghanistan in the thirties, killing twelve of the archeologists that had been part of the dig that unearthed it. Next to it was a very small display that had once held a ‘sleeping stone’ that had to be kept a certain distance from any living being to prevent it latching onto them, lulling them into an almost comatose state and eventually killing them as they stop eating and drinking just to stay with the stone. The final display was more than large enough to hold a suit of armor. The plaque said it had contained a ‘complete cyberman’. Jack shuddered at the idea.

“Do you think this was linked to the auction?”

“I’m pretty certain it was. The funds you’d need just to move all of this in one night point right to our host.”

“Does this host have a name?”

“Not that we know of. His whole family have spent decades carefully defending their anonymity.”

Owen rolled his eyes thinking there was no chance this weevil whispering thing would work. The building he stood in had been bought and squatters had been evicted but the owner had not counted on weevils moving in. He wasn’t sure what way they were getting in but it was hard to mistake that smell for anything else. Janet was pretty calm for a weevil and he’d managed to at least get her not to instantly try and attack him so he didn’t expect a wild weevil to be nearly as calm.

“Looks like they’ve gone.” He said, watching Elise look around.

“Shhhh. I can hear one.”

“Well then just call it out like a dog if you think it’ll work.”

“Fine.” She turned down the hallway where she’d heard the movement. “Excuse me.”

“Do they react better to you being polite?”

“Oh hush… If you can hear me I want you to come out and show yourself.”

For a moment there was nothing, but then a young male weevil loped out, it’s head down. It wasn’t one they’d caught before as it wasn’t dressed in the usual blue overalls that the captured ones were given.

Owen studied it. “He’s definitely scared of you.”

“It’s ok little guy. Can you understand me?”

It nodded slowly.

“Can you understand him?” She pointed at Owen as the weevil looked up. It tilted its head and huffed then turned its attention back to Elise. “I guess not. Ok… What do I call you… Urm… Steeve. Ok Steeve. You tell all of your friends, family, whatever that they can’t stay in the city. No attacking people. Understand?”

Steeve the nodded slowly.

“Ok, off you go then.”

It plodded off again, disappearing down into what was likely a basement.

“You called it Steeve?” Asked Owen.

“What would you have called him?”

“That’s the difference, I wouldn’t have named it.”

“Like hell you wouldn’t have… So, being as we’re done here you can tell me what the last party was like.”

“Party?”

“The masquerade auction thing.”

“I’ll tell you about it on the drive back, this place stinks.”

“Dogon fourth and fifth eyes. Two sonic screwdrivers because why have only one. Six pages of psychic paper. One Sycorax helmet. One Vashta nerada farm. One Hath respirator. Two Judoon horns. One pair of Menoptra wings. Two Ogron stun guns. Six gemstones of unknown origin. One feline skull of unknown species. Three unidentified items of alien design. Four unidentified items made from materials found on Earth. One decommissioned Dalek. One weevil skull. One six by six inch piece of moldavite. Three bags of mixed currency of unknown origin. Have I missed anything?” Ianto asked, double checking his list.

“I think that’s everything in here. Where’s your PDA?” Tosh folded her laptop and wrapped one of the cables over her arm.

“It won’t work inside the safe. It won’t take me a minute to write it up afterwards. Have you seen Jack?”

“He popped by but he’s doing a final sweep of the house in case anything was missed. Apparently he had to deal with the police outside.”

“The officer Gwen told us about?”

“Yep.”

“I looked him up but he’s as squeaky clean as someone can be. Not even a parking ticket to his name.”

“That’s to be expected with his position. It’s not as if we can simply retcon him like we used to.”

“Well, we could but it wouldn’t have too much of an effect. I’ll see what I can do about contacting his superiors later.”

“Shouldn’t you hand that off to Gwen?”

“Gwen’s the good cop.”

“And you’re the bad cop? You?”

“On paper I’m terrifying.” Ianto smiled.

With all of the items collected and stored safely away the team were free to try and get ahead of this group. Even with all the money in the world there had to be a paper trail. Especially when organising a large event. The more expensive an order the more details a company will want just in case they aren’t paid and that was good news for Toshiko. The last time she had tried to track them they were mostly still using cash but this time he seemed to have joined the twenty first century and started using multiple offshore accounts. They were all under different names but that wasn’t going to be an issue. It never was.

“Got him.” Tosh smiled to herself. Steven Oliver Fayfall the third, the current head of a very old and prestigious family. He owned many buildings around the country so it wasn’t clear where his usual residence was. It was a start. She found a few photos from throughout time and could recognise the family but there was always another figure. A pale female, around her teens with long curled hair. Her face was blemish free, like she was wearing a mask. Her face wasn’t flagged on the system to be any being they’d met before. She sent the images over to Jack, wondering if he’d met her in his long life. In the meantime she could start thinking about the theme. Tarot. Each guest had to be dressed as one of the major arcana.

Elise leaned on the back of Toshiko’s chair.

“What you up to?” She asked.

“I found the theme for the party, plus the full dress code.”

“Nice. Who’s going?”

“Last time it was all of us. It’s a huge operation and we never really know what we’re walking in to.”

“Think they’ll let me wear a suit?”

Tosh laughed softly. “Sorry. The dress code is gender specific. It’s a floor length dress and heels for you.”

“Heels? Um… I can’t walk in heels.” Elise stood back.

“You’ll be fine. We probably won’t be doing any running.”

“No. I don’t mean I can’t run in heels I can’t walk in heels. I can barely stand in them.”

Tosh turned to her. “Really?”

“Seriously. I look like a baby giraffe. Also, if there’s dancing I can’t dance.”

“Of course you can. You just need a couple of lessons.”

“For the heels or the dancing?”

“Both. I can teach you to walk in heels. You might be lucky, me and Owen usually hold up the wall at these things. And if all else fails we could ask Ianto to teach you.”

“I’m going to fall on my face I just know it.”

“Let’s see how awful you are.” She took Elises hand. “Jack, I’ve send you a few things to look over including the theme of the party. High heels are mandatory for the ladies so I’m going to teach Elise how to not fall over in them.”

“I’ve been informed I’m not allowed to wear a suit.” Elise pouted.

Jack nodded in recognition. “They’re very old fashioned, a little over obsessed with gender norms. At least until everyone gets drunk.”

“I’m hoping we don’t have a repeat of that this time.” Tosh sighed.

“That? What happened?” Asked Elise, looking between them.

“We were doing a last sweep before we left and behind one of the doors there was an orgy going on.”

Jack crossed his arms. “And they didn’t even invite me.”

#Torchwood #jack harkness #ianto jones #gwen cooper #toshiko sato #owen harper

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vickypoochoices · 5 years

Text

Most Girls - The Never Been Kissed Girl.

This is it guys, the last full chapter to Most Girls. Got an epilogue coming up soon to wrap it all up. Thanks so much for reading!

[MASTERLIST.]

Previous.

"That's it Violet, I can't take it anymore! I'm sick of seeing that sorry little face of your's, you're slowly dragging me down into this depressing little pit you've been in for weeks and I'm officially done."

Violet found herself shrinking back at the tone in Zack's voice, nervous about what was to come. If she knew Zack at all, then he had a plan to get her out of this bedroom and it wouldn't be long before he put the plan into action.

Looking around at her surroundings, she felt a jolt of shame strike her. She'd barely left this little sanctuary of her's recently, apart from classes and caffeine boosts, and that was clear for all to see. Her laundry basket stood in the corner, overflowing with dirty clothes. A stack of empty coffee cups littered her dressing table. And the curtains hadn't been touched in days, leaving the room looking dark and gloomy.

"You know I think I'm going a little bit crazy Zack." She muttered, staring off into space as her lips moved.

Pulling the curtains back, a weak beam of sunlight bounced off the walls, dwindling quickly as evening had begun to sink in.

"Yeah well I'm not really surprised when you've been holed up in here for days."

"No, no. I mean actually insane. Four times this week I thought I saw Chris. I even chased after him the last time but we all know anyone can run circles around me. And it was a waste of time and energy anyway, it's not like Chris is even here. I hope he's not going to be in trouble for this, missing classes and stuff."

A look of panic flashed across Zack's face, but Violet was none the wiser, too consumed by her own thoughts to notice.

"That sure is crazy talk there Violet. Anywho, I'm fed up with the pity party. How about we have an actual party?"

And there it was. Zack's plan, about to play out!

Her attention snapped back, looking at Zack incredulously.

"You really think I'm in the mood to party? I see what you're trying to do and I appreciate the thought, but I just don't feel like it."

Placing a hand on either shoulder, Zack shook her lightly.

"Well tough Violet. Our first guest has already arrived, and he's specifically asked to see you."

"Is it Chris? He's back?"

Zack shrugged, pointing at her ajar bedroom door, silently willing her to go.

She bounded down the hallway, finding a little spring to her steps. She hated herself as she felt her face slip for a second once she found Zig in the spot she'd hoped to find Chris.

"You always keep me guessing with the greetings. First it's a snort for a hello, today it's a look of disappointment, I'm hoping next time we might even make it as far as a hello." He smirked, walking over and drawing her into his arms for a hug.

As Zig enveloped her in his arms, Violet felt the tension start to melt away. She knew things had been strained between them recently. One minute she forgot the world and all it's problems and just relaxed in the moment with him, the next she caught herself, clamming up and retreating back into her shell. But Zig never gave up on her, and if he was growing tired of her ways he never let it show. He'd been so kind, so patient. If Violet hadn't been so terrified of rejection she would have found some way to show him how much she appreciated all of this.

As they pulled apart Zig took her hand, raising it to his lips and tenderly kissing each knuckle individually. Violet's cheeks scorched as his eyes gazed into hers intensely.

"I should probably get out of these clothes if i'm sticking around for the party." She gulped, watching the room slowly fill up with people.

"If anyone can pull off the homeless look it's you Violet."

Zig couldn't help but laugh as she gave him a feeble attempt at a shove.

"I'm quaking in my boots over here." He teased, as she flounced off back to her bedroom.

Zig took in the scenery, smiling as he caught sight of a framed photo on the sideboard. Tracing the outline of Violet's face with his finger, his back straightened subconsciously as he felt someone sidle up next to him.

"Long time no see Chris." Zig commented, not bothering to look at who had joined him. He knew.

Chris didn't respond, but joined Zig in looking over the photo in his hands.

"You realise Violet's been miserable without you."

Chris scoffed. "I doubt that. She has you now."

Zig placed the photo frame back in it's place, head shaking angrily.

"Seems you've wasted your time away if this is the attitude you've come back with. Come on man, you don't need me to butter you up."

Chris's head dropped, letting silence ring out between them.

After a few minutes of uncomfortable silence Zig worked up the courage to ask the one question he was desperate to be answered.

"Do you love her?"

A fire ignited behind Chris's eyes, angered that there was even a doubt in Zig's mind.

"Of course I do."

"You know what I meant." Zig pressed on, undeterred.

"I thought maybe I did. Seeing you two together stirred up some emotions that I've never felt before. It's been me and Violet against the world together for so long. This all escalated so quickly and I just lost myself a little bit. I went home because of a silly argument, fully intending to come back and sweep it under the carpet. But then you two showed up and I couldn't help but question my feelings. I love Violet, but I genuinely feel like she's family."

"Well that's not hard when her Mum loves you like a son. She probably loves you more than her own daughter." Zig retorted.

Chris gave Zig a questioning look.

"You never thought that was odd? After meeting Violet's Mum it's obvious she never stood much of a chance with someone like that to look up to."

"What are you talking about?" Chris spat, feeling anger bubble to the surface.

"You know what I mean." Zig replied, maintaining eye contact.

"Clearly not."

"What are you saying? After all these years you never noticed Violet was a little off when it came to eating. You never thought to question her when she only ever ordered a salad? You didn't worry when she started dropping weight?"

Chris's mouth slackened, jaw gaping open as he tried to process what he was hearing.

"I...She...Fuck. I need to find her."

Heading straight for Violet's room, he ploughed straight in, not thinking to knock. Something he immediately regretted as she stumbled back in shock, awkwardly using her arms in an attempt to shield her body from view.

"CHRIS!" She shrieked loudly, turning her back to him and throwing on a dress hastily.

"Shit! Sorry sorry sorry! I didn't see anything I swear!" He gabbled.

As she struggled with her dress, he pressed forward, gently gliding the zip upwards, fingers lingering a second longer as he gathered his nerve.

"You're here." She breathed.

"I'm here."

"Is the dress okay? Oh God, it feels so clingy! Do I look like a blob? Should I change?" Violet nervously babbled, her voice shrill.

Taking a step back, his eyes travelled the length of her body. Skimming over her curves, dress clinging to every inch in all the right ways, Chris shook his head despairingly, unable to comprehend how he'd somehow missed all the now painfully obvious signs. She was stunning, truly, and his heart ached at the realisation that she couldn't see herself as others did.

Closing the distance between them, he propped her chin up to look at him, needing her full attention.

"Violet, the dress is gorgeous. You're gorgeous. Don't change."

Her eyes seemed to search his for an eternity. As she found whatever she'd been looking for in them she gave a quick nod in acceptance.

"Listen I..."

"Violet wait. I need to apologise. For a lot of things. I've been a jerk."

"I didn't like to say but..." She laughed.

"I'm meant to be your best friend and here I am running away from you and hurting you. Violet you've always been there for me, no questions asked, and i threw it back in your face. I haven't been the best friend that you deserve, I've been awful recently if I'm honest. I..." He paused mid way through his speech as Violet threw her arms around him, knocking him backwards. Catching himself, he wrapped his arms around her tightly, anchoring them to the ground.

"Just shut up Chris! You're here. That's all I care about right now. All that other stuff? We'll talk about it another day if we have to. For now, I'm just glad to have my best friend back."

"Okay, alright. But there is one thing I need to say. That Zig guy that's waiting out there for you? He's a good guy. In my expert best friend opinion, you should give him a chance."

Violet waited a beat.

"I'm just waiting for the sarcastic comment to drop."

"I mean it, I promise. Don't think that means I won't be beating his ass if he ever so much as looks at another girl. But for now, I'm in his corner."

After giving Chris a final squeeze, they parted ways, both relieved to have their best friend back.

"I've never told you just how adorable those dimples of yours are." A husky whisper caught her off guard as a strong pair or arms snaked around her waist firmly. Recognising Zig's voice, she leaned in to him, pressing her body against his lightly.

"Adorable huh? Like a five year old?"

"Hm, you're right. Not adorable then. How about sexy?"

"You sure you don't want someone like that?" She worried out loud, pointing out a leggy blonde across the room.

Zig's nose crinkled as though in disgust.

"I've been with girls like her before. Pretty to look at, but dull as hell. I wish you could see what I do when I look at you. You may not think you're perfect, but you are perfect for me. All those little things you get hung up on and think of as flaws? They are what set you apart from everyone else in the best possible way."

Spinning herself around in his arms, she looped her hands around the back of his neck, confidence at an all time high after getting back on track with Chris.

"I knew the moment I laid eyes on you that you were a smooth talker, but that was something else Zig." Violet gave a half laugh, mouth suddenly feeling dry.

He smirked back in response, and Violet swallowed hard. The air around them had grown thick, her breathing a little heavier. She longed to close the distance between them, but she wasn't sure she could handle the rejection that was sure to come her way. They'd maintained a flirty relationship, but Zig had never pressed for things to go further, and Violet was starting to question why.

"Talk to me." One of his hands gave her a gentle squeeze at the waist, his touch burning hot.

"I'm...scared."

"Of me?"

"Of...well pretty much everything. Rejection, lack of experience, knowing I'm not good enough for you...I'm feeling all the emotions right now." The temptation to run was high, and she attempted to wiggle out of his hold.

Tightening his grip, Zig pushed their bodies even closer together, gently pushing his forehead to rest against her's.

"It makes no difference if you've been with no guys, twenty guys, a thousand guys, I still want you. Not good enough for me, huh, that's funny. Because I think it's actually the other way around. Violet you do realise you have two guys here tonight who would ride to the edge of the world for you right? No questions asked. And this whole party tonight? All for you, because your friends love you and worry about you. Because you are beautiful, inside and out, and that's something you don't see much anymore. I'm so lucky to have met you. Most girls would have tried it on or moved it on by now, but you've stayed. And in doing so you've given me the chance to get to know the real you. And as for your concerns over rejection..."

Zig tailed off, tilting his head to the side. One hand trailed tiny circles across the small of her back, the other reached up, thumb tenderly stroking over the small dimple in her cheek. He pressed his lips gently to Violet's, just for a second, before pulling back and holding her at arm's length.

Her mouth fell open, and a shiver ran through her as the warmth from his body left her.

"How was that?" Zig asked, lips pursed tightly as be tried to stop himself from laughing.

"That...was...Zig! Are you messing with me?"

His eyes lit up, struggling to contain the laughter as it seemed to spill out. Folding her arms firmly across her chest, she fixed him with a steely glance.

"First kiss, check. Did it suck? You bet!"

Zig's head jerked back, the laughing seizing immediately.

"We can't be having that. Maybe we'll have to try again. A few times. Until I get the hang of it." He suggested, entwining their hands together.

"Well if you think you're up to the challenge..." Her eyes glittered in the dull light, and she found herself subconsciously biting on her bottom lip.

In an instant Zig pushed his lips to hers, forcefully this time, past the point of messing with her. She felt his cheeks rise slightly in a smile as his tongue patiently waited for permission to enter, which she quickly gave. Their tongues danced together, slowly caressing, gently teasing, and Violet found herself lost in the moment. After a few moments, they eased apart, Zig's eyes full of wonder as he watched her attempt to regulate her breathing.

"Second kiss, check. Nailed it."

Tagging: @zigortega4life @emerald-bijou @syltti78

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#choices #play choices #zig ortega #chris powell #fanfic #zig x mc

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