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bookishofalder · 3 years

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Night Changes [Seven]

Summary: An unexpected attack cuts the final tethers of restraint for Poe and the reader.

Warnings: Language, violence, blood, mentions of attempted assault, choking, injury description (note RED cuts to skip past uncomfortable parts if preferred), Smut—PiV, fingering, squirting, oral. W— +14K.

A/N: If there was ever a chapter I would beg for feedback/thoughts, this is it. Please tell me you like it. Oh god, soothe my worried mind.

It was tempting, the urge to roll your eyes as the man before you moved to stand too close. You smirked, waiting to see if he was serious in his attempt to corner you or if he would scamper off the moment you pulled your knife from your thigh holster where it was hidden beneath your dress.

There was a darkness in his gaze that made your hand twitch at your side, and here you had thought Canto Bight would be relatively uneventful. But it appeared you caught his eye and your disguise as just another casino patron worked because he had followed you unexpectedly into the foyer off of the main ballroom, where you had gone to wait for Poe and Temmin to return.

The three of you were here for intel promised by a very wealthy ally, so dressing the part was important for blending in with the privileged crowds. You were sure the man before you thought you weak enough to bully, a rich girl he could take advantage of.

You were annoyed, wishing you’d gone with Poe instead of Temmin, that you hadn’t offered to keep watch for any signs of your enemies because you felt you were the least suspicious of the three of you. BB8 stayed with you, but when you’d seen the man following you over your shoulder you told the droid to hide and it had zipped behind a potted plant in the corner of the foyer, beeping coyly.

You had first assumed he was a guard, perhaps about to tell you that you were in the wrong place if you were looking for a fresher, but when he stepped around you and blocked your path you quickly realized he was something else entirely. His suit, you could tell now from close up, was immensely expensive and he reeked of cologne.

There were two hallways over his shoulder, one which Poe and Temmin had gone down to meet with the contact, and the other which branched off to various parts of the greater building. Both were quiet, and so you knew not to expect any sudden interruptions that might save you the trouble of having to incapacitate the man.

But, you could easily handle one lone wolf who bit off more than he could chew.

Which was why it came as a very great surprise to you when you felt another presence behind you, but before you could do more than stiffen you felt pressure against your spine; a second man had snuck in and was pressing a knife to you. Now you understood that the first man wasn’t blocking your path; he was distracting you.

So less of a lone wolf, more of a predator with a partner. Bile rose in your throat and you glared at the man in front of you. He smirked now, taking another step toward you so that both men were almost pressed up against you, sandwiching you between them. “You’re a pretty little number.” He hissed, one hand shooting out to grab your throat.

You wanted to fight, but the knife at your back was a heavy warning of what could happen and you knew you needed to play your cards right. No pun intended. You’d been cornered before, of course, but always by First Order officers. Rich men who wanted what they couldn’t have were not on your list of experiences before this, and you wondered how best to deal with them.

“Fuck you,” You seethed, and the hand at your neck tightened fractionally. More of a threat than anything else.

His words though were a clear threat. “No, we’ll fuck you, doll.”

The way they got you onto the floor, the ease and swiftness of it, told you they’d done this together before. It sickened you, made fury rise inside of you and you wanted nothing more than to pull the knife from your holster and drive it into the hand at your throat. You made a noise, a growl, and the man with the knife finally spoke up.

“She’s a wild one, probably best to knock her out.”

You were going to kill them. Whatever happened, their blood would be soaking into this plush carpet before the end of the night. The first man moved so that he was straddling your chest, his weight on his hunches, and grinned down at you.

“Don’t worry, we’ll have our fun and be on our way. We aren’t going to hurt you so long as you don’t struggle.” He immediately contradicted himself when the hand at your throat tightened, pressing at the sides in a way that cut off airflow without completely crushing your throat. They wanted you to pass out.

You went limp, conserving your energy as you scowled up at the man. The reality of your situation was now enough to cause panic to bubble up; Poe and Temmin hadn’t been gone long. The contact would invite them for a drink, chat with them briefly before passing along the intel. They would find you here, after.

No, that couldn’t happen. It would kill Poe, and he wouldn’t be able to leave until he found the men. You whimpered, black spots started to dance in your vision and you saw, from the corner of your eye, a blur of orange and white zoom down the hallway your squadmates had ventured not long ago.

The second man was already getting excited, his free hand brushing over your face, touching your lips. Even without any air coming in, you tried to bite him. He jerked his finger back, cursing, and the man holding your throat threw his head back to laugh loudly, the pressure releasing in his distraction. You think he started to tease the other man, but everything was confusing now and instincts overtook your body, pulling in air-too much air, too quickly.

Scream.

Yes, you needed to scream. One good, long one that someone would hear, or at least loud enough to scare them off of you in case someone did come looking for the source. You kept pulling in air and it was painful your vision blurring, and you think you were about to pass out. Faces appeared in your mind. Two very distinct, very familiar faces; Charlie and Poe. Your protectors, your family, your love.

Just like that, you had what you needed to find the strength to scream.

It came out in one long, very loud wail, the sound of it echoing off of the walls and back to you before you passed out.

“POOOOOEEEEEE!”

The Martell family moved off, having given their words of sorrow and sympathy, and Charlie tightened the arm he had secured around his mother’s shoulders. She was the strong, silent type like him; whereas you always took after dad. He was keeping close to mom today, providing her with the support she needed and knowing that you were being well taken care of by the one person who could provide the tender love you required.

Charlie glanced around the room as mom took a sip of water, seeking you in the crowd. His eyes landed on Dad's green armchair in the corner, where you were curled up in Poe’s lap, face pressed into his neck as you shook with sobs. He could see his best friend whispering to you, his hand rubbing up at down your back, no doubt repeating words of comfort. He must have felt Charlie’s gaze, his eyes flicking up suddenly before he smiled sadly.

In many ways, it was a beautiful thing to behold the love which you and Poe had for one another. Even as young as you all were, no one could doubt or question that you were both made for one another-except, of course, for yourselves.

Charlie could almost be jealous if he hadn’t spent years around you and seen how natural it seemed to come to you both. He couldn’t be angry that his best friend loved you so deeply, that he knew what to do to comfort you, to care for you, knew when it was needed without Charlie even needing to ask. Hell, even dad had noticed, mentioned it to Charlie during that last visit...

Dad was smiling at Charlie, who sat in the chair next to his bed in the medical facility. It was a nice private room, the kind that the staff made a little homier because it was where the terminal patients came to live out their last days. Mom had taken you and Poe with her to get tea in the nearby lounge, leaving Charlie alone with dad one last time. He sighed, admitting to dad now that they were alone that it didn’t feel fair to lose his father at sixteen. And you were barely fourteen!

Dad chuckled sadly, “I want to stay more than you know, son. I have to tell you, Charlie, that I’m already more than proud of who you are and I know you’ll continue to be a remarkable person. I told your sister the same, but she’s still young, she’ll need more reminders,” Dad paused to take a breath and Charlie waited patiently, taking hold of one of his hands. “I know you’ll always take care of her, put her before anything else. Even the fight, it comes second to her. Though I expect you’ll have help. Wish I could have been around to see those two get married one day.”

Charlie grinned, “You noticed them too?” His father nodded, eyes bright despite the sickness. “How could anyone not, I suppose. Except them.” Charlie added, rolling his eyes fondly.

Dad laughed again, “They’ll realize it when they’re ready. You’re all too young for love anyway,” He joked, giving Charlie a mock stern look. “Just make sure that whatever they do, you focus on your own happiness too, son.”

He squeezed Charlie’s hand weakly, he smiled at his father, “I promise I’ll take care of her, dad. And mom, she’ll need me more.” Dad nodded, his eyes a little wet but so filled with love that Charlie could only stare at him for a few minutes before continuing. “You want me to beat him up when they do finally kiss, though?”

Another weak laugh, followed by a wink, and then Charlie spent a few more minutes talking with his dad for the last time, before eventually mom, you and Poe filtered back in.

He felt a lot of love and joy despite the fucking misery of it, until Dad's eyes slipped shut the final time and you all kissed him before stepping out to leave mom alone with the nurse. You were wrapped around Charlie, who had carried you out of the room, and he passed you over to Poe, asking his friend to take you home while he took care of mom. Poe pressed his forehead to Charlie’s before doing just that, his own eyes leaking tears.

Now, Charlie wondered if Poe had stopped touching you since that day. Perhaps he simply switched between carrying you and keeping his arm around your shoulders, anchoring you down in safety and love, letting you grieve while keeping you from falling too far into the darkness.

Poe met his eyes across the room, wordlessly asking ‘do you need me?’ And Charlie smiled back, shaking his head. Because Poe was already doing exactly what he needed him to, cooing softly in your ear as you trembled and cried quietly, protecting you while Charlie held up his mother and in turn, she held him up, thanking him for being strong, for loving so hard.

Charlie thought he could love as much as he wanted, it would still never compare to the love between Poe and you. It made him smile.

Poe was walking with Temmin at his side, the contact leading them through the extravagant hallways to the room where their source would pass over the intel promised to the Resistance. Intel that could help track down a man that had something the General needed. He was an ally to the Resistance, not a neutral or ‘for profit’ type but a true ally who pushed through funds for them as much as intel. Coming in person to the casino he owned, dressed to the nines in finery that felt foreign, sitting over a glass of champagne-it was the least they could do.

And Poe had to admit, the moment you’d stepped out of the fresher on the small ship Black squad had taken to come to Canto Bight, he’d become gleeful over the necessity to dress up. Because you were gorgeous, dazzlingly so in a golden, glittering dress, your legs bare, hair styled loose, a touch of make-up on your face. He thought you were so beautiful, and he wanted to tell you but didn’t trust himself to say it right, so he’d grinned before turning away and letting out a low whistle. Calling ‘looking good, sweetheart’ over his shoulder.

They were approaching a large, ornate door that the man leading them gestured toward, indicating their contact was on the other side. Poe thanked him for his help, but before he could move the final steps to the door a familiar sound suddenly entered the hall; BB8 was zooming towards him, beeping frantically.

Exchanging a curious look with Temmin, Poe dropped down to one knee as the droid rolled to a stop before him. Despite Poe’s fluency in binary, he was only catching words due to the panicked, too-fast rate at which the droid communicated. He gathered ‘attack’ and ‘knife’ and wondered if BB8 was telling him you had stabbed someone.

It wouldn’t have been the first time on a mission you’d done so.

“Buddy, slow down, I can’t understand you,” Poe hushed the droid, “Say it again, slower.”

The droid repeated itself, slowly.

Poe was moving before he finished. “Captain, go in without me. BB8, stay with him.” He ordered over his shoulder. He heard Temmin’s worried affirmative reply. And then he was running, faster than he had in his entire existence, blood roaring in his ears. Poe ran because the message was clear.

You were being attacked.

And he didn’t like how BB8 had phrased it, saying you ‘couldn’t breathe'. He didn’t know if he was about to find you with Storm Troopers or undercover First Order fighters, but regardless being unable to breathe didn’t sound like their usual treatment of suspected Rebels. It only drove him to run faster through the twisting hallway, forgetting his expensive clothing or even the importance of remaining undercover, his focus solely on you now.

You had offered to stay behind. Because it was the best option, and Canto Bight was an easy enough place to blend in. So who had made you?

Poe half expected to round the final corner up ahead and find you waiting for him with your enemy incapacitated, or otherwise in a standoff he would have to join in on the fight with.

He never expected anything like what was about to happen.

Before he reached the end of the hall, an ear-splitting shriek filled the air and Poe’s veins turned to ice, his breath catching.

“POOOOOEEEEEE!”

You had never made a sound like that before in your life, and blind, all-consuming rage overtook every facet of Poe’s being-whoever, whatever, made you scream like that was about to fucking die. He came tearing around the corner and his eyes fell on the most gut-wrenching, heart-stopping sight-you, laying still on the floor as a man straddled your chest, one hand wrapped around your throat. A second man stood next to you; both men had their backs to Poe and appeared to be watching you...

Were you dying? Dead?

They didn’t hear Poe coming, neither of them even turned around when he pulled the knife from the inner pocket of his jacket and leapt at the standing man. He slit his throat without thought, already looking toward the man still straddling you, who had released his hold on your neck to peer around curiously. He looked just in time to see his friend collapse to the floor, had enough time to jump back in fear, mouth opening in horror.

It didn’t matter, though. His futile attempt to block Poe only served to aid his aim, so that the knife he slashed out could be thrust down and into the soft flesh between his collarbone and throat. Poe snarled, slamming him back into the wall to ensure he didn’t fall onto you, before yanking the knife out and finishing him off with a firm swipe of the blade over his throat, cutting through the tendons and blinking when a spray of blood landed on him.

Stashing the knife back into his pocket and glancing up at the closed door, Poe stumbled forward and dropped to his knees next to you, adrenaline coursing through his body and keeping his hand steady as he sought out your pulse point. He could already see bruising bleeding over the soft skin of your throat, darkening it, and he felt his rage ebb away into a panic so severe that he almost missed the steady beat of your heart.

“Oh fuck,” He gasped out, a modicum of relief seeping through the panic. He scooped you up quickly, spinning around and making his way toward the hallway opposite the one he’d just come from. He groaned when he realized he wasn’t sure where to go, which door led to an exit-you had the entire place memorized. But you were breathing steadily in his arms, still passed out, and Poe needed to follow his gut on this because you’re life depended on him getting you to the safety of the ship.

He couldn’t cut through the casino, so he opted to simply try each door in the hall ahead until one of them lead to a room with a window he could climb out of. Kare was waiting on the ship, he could send her in as backup once he was out. It was the second door that he shouldered through that lead to him gasp in relief-it led onto a patio, on the ground floor. He glanced around, confirming no one was in sight before tearing off at a run, holding you tight in his arms. Everything was happening in such a blur.

He tapped on his comm, “Kare! Please tell me we have bacta shots on the ship.”

Her voice crackled through in alarm, “What’s happened? We only have spray-“

“Shit!” He growled, “I’m coming back with the Major-she was attacked, get out the medkit and prepare to head to the casino and wait outside for Temmin, he needs to have a backup-“

“You got it, Commander!” She replied swiftly before the line went dead and he knew she’d have switched over to Temmin’s channel to give him the update.

When Poe boarded the ship a few minutes later, Kare was waiting at the top of the ramp and gasped at the sight of you in his arm, passed out. She paused, eyes on Poe “Whose blood is that, Commander?”

“It’s not hers,” Poe replied, setting you down on the only bed the tiny ship had and picking up the medical kit Kare had left out for him, “I killed two men. Make sure Temmin and BB8 get back here with the intel, I’ll have the ship ready to depart.” She confirmed she heard him before running down the ramp and out of sight.

Poe set to work quickly, first tugging a rolled blanket from the end of the bed and covering you with it, then seeking out your pulse to confirm it was still beating steadily. He then uncapped the bacta spray and gently tilted your head back; exposing your heavily bruised throat, and carefully opening your mouth.

“Oh my sweet girl,” He sobbed out, first spraying into your open mouth so that the spray would drip down into your throat and reduce the swelling, then again to the outside skin. It would help, he comforted himself, “My sweet, sweet girl, I’m here. I’ve got you, please, please be okay.” He pleaded, his voice a strained whisper as he stroked your hair gently off of your face, waiting for the spray to do its work. He thinks he kept talking, while his eyes watched your face, every second torture until he saw movement behind your eyelids.

“Mmm,” You moaned out a strangled sound, your face tightening as you registered the pain. Your eyes suddenly snapped open and he saw panic flash there, a fear he’d never seen on your face before that shattered his heart right in his chest.

“Baby,” He whispered, bringing his face over yours so you could see him clearly, “It’s me, I’ve got you, sweet girl. We’re on the ship, we’re safe.” He promised you, dropping his hand to hold yours under the blanket. You gazed at him for a second, then dropped your eyes to search over him and he glanced down, realizing he was...still covered in blood.

“Ah-okay?” You wheezed, your voice was scratchy, but your brows pinched together in an expression that cleared up your meaning.

“I’m fine,” He assured you, leaning down at pressing a kiss to your forehead, “Don’t try to speak until we get you looked at, okay? Does anything else hurt?”

He drew back to watch your face, but you shook your head slightly to indicate you were okay. He cupped your cheeks then, needing to touch you, to feel you alive and warm under his now trembling fingers. You noticed his shaky hands, one of your own coming out from beneath the blanket to reach up and stroke his jaw.

A shuddering, retched sob tore out of him as you did this familiar comforting gesture, attempting to ease his pain when you were the one that had been harmed. Tears no longer threatened, but spilled from his eyes as he leaned over you, his face inches from yours, “My sweet girl, y-you scared me, there, thought I-I-“ He broke off, unable to even say the words. You kept caressing his jaw, the motion soothing to you as well, he gathered from the expression on your face. “I killed them. Both.” He admitted. You responded by merely widening your eyes slightly, then shutting them in understanding.

He watched you for a few moments, then let his own eyes shut as he lowered his head and pressed his forehead to yours, trying to reign in his emotions so that he could get the ship ready to go home. He pulled back when you attempted to speak again, your voice a little clearer thanks to the spray.

“L-love you.”

Poe ran his thumbs under your eyes to wipe away the tears that spilled, “I love you,” He replied, turning his head and pressing his lips to your hand, “So, so much, my lovely girl.”

When Tahla had first walked onto the ship after Temmin and Kare had successfully landed back on base at D’Qar, his expression was so fraught with concern you’d squeaked a little from your spot on the bed, wanting to tell him you were fine despite your voice box rejecting the attempt. Poe had disappeared into the cockpit with Temmin and Kare when they finally boarded the ship on Canto Bight, BB8 in tow, and you think he must have overstated your injury when he’d called into base.

“Well, that sounded extraordinarily wretched, let me take a look,” Tahla joked, his features relaxing, and he sat at your side on the bed. Poe was behind you now, his body acting as your pillow, a comforting position he’d taken up the moment the ship landed and the rest of Black team had departed to get the intel to the General. “This is going to be uncomfortable, but try not to make noise, okay?” His eyes were on Poe when he spoke at first, dropping to you when he posed the question. You nodded your understanding and decided to lose yourself in thought as he gently started feeling along your throat.

When you first came to, the only thing you had been aware of was the pain in your throat. You’d felt movement at your side and panicked, thinking you were still under attack, only when you opened your eyes you instead met the most heart-wrenching sight of your life; Poe covered in blood, looking down at you pale and panicked, his eyes wide with fear. Seeing him like that hurt worse than the pain in your throat, though that was certainly in a strong second place.

When he admitted he killed the men, you regretted only that you hadn’t been able to fight them off yourself, or at least been able to help him take them down. You didn’t want all of that to sit on his shoulders. You comforted yourself at the moment by telling him you loved him, testing the words on your tongue, despite knowing he would take them at their usual meaning and not how you truly meant them now.

But you could wait a little longer to tell him properly.

“Alright, Major. The good news is that you’re going to be okay and the spray will combat any long-term damage to your vocal cords,” Tahla was looking into your mouth now, a light shining in his hand as he inspected your throat. “Bad news is that I can’t administer a Bacta shot this far into the injury, so you’ll have to allow it to heal on its own over the next couple of days.”

“F-fuck.” You stammered, and Poe’s hands, which were clasping your shoulders, tightened fractionally in response. A silent, loving, admonishment. Tahla laughed, stowing away his light before giving you a final once over.

His eyes moved up, meeting Poe’s instead, “That’s not your blood, right?”

“No,” Poe replied, his voice quiet, “No. I killed them. BB8 found me, told me (y/n) was being attacked. They were...I didn’t hesitate.”

Fuck, he sounded so dark and haunted, you wanted to take away his worry, take away whatever memories he had now from the attack. You were tired though, your eyes beginning to droop now that you were home and safe and in the clear of any permanent damage. Tahla gave Poe a nod that suggested his approval over Poe’s handling of the men who attacked you, his eyes darkening for a moment, and then your eyes closed completely.

Poe’s hands immediately moved, adjusting you in his arms. How he was able to tell you were ready to sleep you’d never know. He was lifting you before you could even consider offering to just walk since your legs worked just fine. But you let yourself curl into his hold instead, your face pressing into his neck. He began to walk and you let the gentle motions soothe you further, lulling you towards sleep.

Tahla spoke from somewhere behind your head, where he walked next to Poe, “I’m going to give her a few days off, pull her from the field for a week minimum-I’ll check on her in five days, see if her voice is good enough for the field.”

“Listen, man, thank you for coming. I know it’s overstepping to demand a specific Healer-“

“Don’t worry about it,” Tahla interrupted, “I’m glad you did ask for me. Scared the hell out of me though, Poe.”

Poe sighed, “Sorry about that.” He didn’t elaborate even though you wanted him to explain why he’d caused Tahla to panic, what he’d said to have your friend run into the ship like he thought your head was about to fall off.

You also wanted to thank Tahla for coming, but you were too sleepy. Instead, you let the way Poe carried you to ease you closer and closer to the blissful release of sleep, not realizing until you heard a door whoosh open that the Healer was gone. Poe lowered you onto something soft and you peeked out beneath your eyelashes to find you were in his room.

“Sorry, I didn’t want to wake you,” He murmured, pulling his blanket from where it was folded at the base of his bed to cover you, his hands still shaky. You reached for him then, grabbing hold of his hand, and Poe stilled, gazing down at you. “What is it, sweetheart?”

You cleared your throat carefully and kept your voice as low as possible when you spoke. “Sta-y with me.” You saw the words hit him, his tension releasing so quickly that you think he nearly collapsed as he joined you on the bed, laying cautiously next to you. The only part of him that touched you was where your hand had grabbed him; now, you tugged him closer and shuffled, burrowing into his side and tucking your head into his neck.

You didn’t care that he was bloody or you were both still dressed in the fancy clothing-you just wanted him close. Needed him, not only for yourself but also for him, so that he knew you weren’t upset with him in any way, so that he couldn’t lick his wounds alone and convince himself that he messed up.

You needed him to know that you still trusted him. Always would.

He shifted so that he could circle his arms around you, holding you tight against him and breathing steadily, hard enough that you knew he was fighting off tears again. Your poor, kind-hearted Poe. He took things so hard, loved so fiercely. You didn’t understand how you deserved him when you were young or now. You just felt so fucking safe now, he was all-encompassing safety and love and you wondered again how you could have thought badly of him, to ever have run away.

“Sweet girl,” He started murmuring again, whispers as he stroked one hand over your hair soothingly. You weren’t sure if he knew you were still awake, it had been so long. You remained still, hoping he would never stop speaking so sweetly to you, letting his words lull you. “My brave, beautiful girl. So strong. I’ll never let anyone hurt you ever again. I love you, maker I love you...”

You wanted to say it back, but you fell asleep to the soothing rumble of his chest as he caressed you in the night, rocking away your nightmares and keeping you every bit as safe as he promised.

Poe woke early, light only just filtering in his thin window because he was too warm. At first, he was confused as to why he felt so restricted, so heavy until he looked down.

Stars.

You were tangled around him as he lay on his back, your arm hugged around his waist, head resting just below his sternum, legs entwined with his own. And he was still wearing his suit, the fabric not as breathable as his flight suit, and tighter too. As he gazed down at you, still peacefully asleep, further warmth pooled in his chest and belly.

‘Stay with me.’

Maker, three words and you knocked him clean over and he was ready right then to tell you he would never leave your side again if you asked him not to. But he’d managed to reign himself in slightly before curling around you protectively, unable to keep himself from touching you in gentle, soothing motions. He’d fallen asleep faster than he’d thought he would.

Now, he realized that if you woke up you would find him still covered in the blood of the men he’d killed. He needed to get himself into his fresher and clean up. With slow movements, he was able to extract himself from your grip and climb from the bed. He covered you in the blanket so the temperature change wouldn’t go as noticed and wake you up. He watched you for a minute as you slept, then quietly grabbed a pen and piece of paper, jotting a note down in case you woke up.

‘In the shower. Don’t leave, please.’

He set it next to you on his bed, then grabbed some clean clothing and stepped into his fresher, the door closing behind him silently. He bypassed his mirror, not interested in seeing how he looked, and went straight into the shower, turning on the water and flinching at the brief burst of cold before the temperature evened out. He scrubbed himself clean and avoided looking at the floor, at the swirling blood and grime disappearing into the drain. He had enough images in his head. It wasn’t that he hadn’t killed before, because he most certainly had-both from his x-wing and in ground combat. But he had never taken a life so viciously, so intimately. And it wasn’t how quickly he’d done it that scared him, it was how okay with it all he was.

They were hurting you, at the time he’d thought they’d killed you, he had no choice. No option but to end them.

He considered working in the field with you now, what that would look like. Would he start throwing himself in front of you and breaking protocol as he had in the woods of Takodana? Like he’d gotten angry at you for doing all that time ago when you’d first come back to D’Qar and had taken out that Stormtrooper with his gun levelled at Poe’s head? Was the fight...

Maker.

Was it worth losing you for?

The answer came fast; no, no it wasn’t. And that scared him because he’d always been ready to die for the cause, for the Resistance, to abolish the tyranny of the First Order. You and Charlie and he had all grown up with that single mindset, to get old enough to join and then fight until the war ended or you died.

And now all he could think was that he would rather lose the war a thousand times over than lose you.

When he stepped out of his shower and dried off, Poe was reeling. He was going through the motions-pulling on his socks, his shorts, his favourite tee. But internally he was reminding himself of everything he’d accomplished as a Resistance fighter. Of everything you had. Even after losing Charlie, you both kept fighting without question, for him, for yourselves, for the cause.

But...wasn’t the saying in your family that family came first, then the fight, and then everything else? When had he lost sight of that and forgotten that with great love came the equally great threat of losing it? But he couldn’t just leave, would never even consider it, no and he knew you wouldn’t, not for him or anything. There was nothing in the entire galaxy that would make you stop fighting. Which left Poe with the greatest question of all-what the hell was he going to do?

He didn’t have an answer, not even a vague idea, so he tabled the internal battle he was waging and stepped out of his fresher to check on you. His heart stuttered in his chest when he found you splayed across his bed, head hidden under his pillow, one leg kicked out from under the covers. You had always looked so peaceful when you slept, and memories surface of the countless times growing up, waking in your bed and watching you sleep. He’d usually wake up before you, sometimes he’d sneak out to hang out with Charlie, other times he’d enjoy the quiet and calm of your room.

The last thing he wanted to do right now was to wake you up, and so Poe made his way to his dresser to search through options for you to wear. Even the idea of you going alone into your room to shower and change made his heart drop, his need to keep you safe and close was so great. He picked out one of his shirts, a pair of athletic shorts you could tighten the waist of, and after much debate with himself, a pair of his briefs. He’d let you decide if you were going to wear them-he just wanted you to have the option.

He went into his fresher and set the clothing on the vanity, starting a little when he emerged and found you watching him with bleary eyes. He smiled tentatively, suddenly nervous under your gaze, but after a small pause your face lit up, eyes brightening and smile wide, melting his heart in his chest.

“Good morning,” Poe sat down on the bed next to you, brushing a hand over your face to wipe away stray hairs, “Try not to speak too much, sweetheart.” He gently reminded you, his eyes dropping to your darkened throat.

You made a face, scrunching your nose, and Poe chuckled softly. He watched you yawn before pushing yourself up, moving to sit next to him and raising your hand to tentatively touch your throat. You winced before flicking your gaze up to meet his, offering a small smile, “Hi,” It was raspy and quiet, dry enough that he realized you needed some water. He leaned over and grabbed a glass bottle from his mini-fridge, handing it over to your waiting hand.

He watched you gulp the water down in small bursts, happy to see swallowing didn’t appear to cause you too much discomfort. “How do you feel?”

“M’fine,”

“You up for a shower?” Poe asked, and your eyes widened slightly in response and he started sputtering immediately, heat flushing his cheeks, “I mean-you can shower, I uh, that is, I put some clothes in there for you-and I will wait here. I showered already.”

Stars, he felt about fifteen all of the sudden, embarrassment flooding him over his unintentionally suggestive phrasing. He scrubbed a hand over the stubble on his jaw, glancing at you to find you holding in your laughter, amusement evident in your expression.

Poe rolled his eyes, recovering himself, “Very funny,” But he laughed, cheered by the smile on your face as you climbed out of his bed and made your way into his fresher. Your dress was crumpled and flat from sleeping in it, and your hair a tousled mess.

Even still, you were truly beautiful.

You looked over your shoulder at Poe before closing the door to the fresher, and he patted the bed, “I’ll be right here if you need anything.” He assured you, and a wave of relief flashed over your face as you shut the door.

Poe got out of bed, taking the time you were showering to tidy his room, including making the bed. He thought about everything that had happened and realized he wasn’t even remotely aware of whether the intel had proven as useful as the ally had claimed, having passed it off to Temmin and Kare to get into Leia’s hands. The fact that his droid hadn’t returned however told Poe that BB8 must be helping to decipher the intel, and Poe reasoned he could find out once he’d taken care of you.

When he heard the water shut off in the fresher, he started to fret over how to best do just that. He supposed it would be ideal for you to remain in the quiet space of his room, where you could avoid speaking too often or loudly. He wanted to keep you close...but then the doubt crept in and he began to question whether you would even want to stay with him, or if he was already being too overbearing. Maybe you were right now looking at the clothing he left out for you and shaking your head.

The fresher door opened a few minutes later, as Poe was tying on his boots, eager to get food from the dining hall and bring it back to the room for you both. “Anything you want from-uh...” He froze, eyes landing on you dressed in his clothing, his shirt much too large and-and you’d decided to only put on the briefs, the tighter fabric only just peeking out below the hem of his shirt.

Poe hadn’t thought of a chest band, not until this very moment when he could see your full breasts outlined against the light grey fabric. He swallowed, dropping his eyes to the floor as heat crawled up his neck.

If you noticed his reaction, you didn’t comment. You crawled back onto his bed, pulling a throw blanket over your legs before settling into the cushions happily, “Pancakes. Definitely pancakes, please.” You whispered, voice slightly improved now that you had some water.

It was entirely without thought that Poe leaned across his bed and placed a gentle kiss to your temple, before jumping up and promising to return with all the pancakes he could carry.

Poe sat with his drink held firm in his hand, his eyes flicking around the crowd before he sighed and settled back into his seat. The usual table, though this was the first time he’d been back to the Cantina since the funeral. Tommy and Rico had asked him a few times, of course, but he’d refused, never feeling quite ready to return.

Today though...he’d come because it was your birthday.

He’d have a drink for you. Even though he had no idea where in the fucking galaxy you’d gone.

And it wasn’t for lack of trying, but no matter who he went to, no one could or would give him your new assignment. You’d been clever and covered your tracks enough that you made sure anyone who would have helped Poe couldn’t see your assignment.

He’d never been more miserable in his life, never more angry with himself. He’d said awful shit to you and then disappeared for a few days to collect his head, thinking of how he’d apologize.

He’d wanted to tell you he loved you.

Instead, he broke your heart.

And you up and left before he could even begin to start making amends.

He was on his last possible source at this point, a person he hadn’t even wanted to go to. But Vanya had been kind to Poe, said she could try and see if anyone she was close with had the access needed. He told her he’d be here tonight, having a drink in your honour, if she wanted to stop by and let him know how she’d got along.

He just needed to find you, and then he would say everything he should have before, apologize to you and promise to make it up to you for the rest of his fucking life. He missed you so much it hurt, it hurt more than losing Charlie. You had disappeared in a way that almost made it feel like you had died as well.

He was starting to feel dead inside.

He glanced up, seeking Vanya out, and met the eyes of a woman at a nearby table, who shot him a friendly smile. He gave her what was probably more of a grimace in return, dropping his eyes to his drink. He wasn’t sure he was ready for...anything like that.

After a moment, he looked back up and saw Vanya walk in. She spotted him and waved, beginning to make her way over. As she grew closer, Poe could see the hard set to her jaw and felt his heart sink into his stomach-he could already tell she’d been unsuccessful.

When she sat down across from him, she heaved a great sigh, her eyes casting downward to look at her hands. “I’m sorry,” She looked up at him after a moment when he made no reply, “She’s smart, didn’t leave a lot to chance.”

Poe waved his hand, “It’s not your fault in the least, Vanya. I appreciate you trying.”

“I’m sure she’ll come back, once she’s grieved enough, had a chance to think things through.”

He wanted to laugh, but instead only grunted, “You didn’t get a chance to know her, but she’s more stubborn than...” He broke off and rubbed a hand over his face. Vanya’s face had fallen as the unspoken name sat between them, and he felt a surge of sadness for her-she had really loved Charlie. “I said...well, I don’t blame her for leaving. It’s already been a couple of months, she’s not coming back. I just wish one person in this fucking place could tell me more than ‘she’s alive.’.”

Vanya leaned forward, resting her elbows on the table as she bobbed her head in agreement, eyes kind, “Poe I saw you-both of you-that night when we first met here. I saw the way you looked at each other-“

Poe tried not to glare, frowning into his drink, “Yeah? And what do you think you know now?”

Vanya ignored his tone, unbothered, “I saw how in love you both were. That kind of love...it doesn’t go away. Not forever. She’ll come back.” And with that, Vanya dipped her head and let loose a wave of fresh tears as thoughts of how Charlie was never coming back sat in the air.

He reached across the table automatically and took her hand, squeezing. “I’m sorry, Vanya. Look, thank you for everything. If you ever need anything, you know where to find me, alright?”

She smiled then, her eyes misty, but remarkably already recovering from her emotional moment, just the kind of tough lady Charlie loved. With a farewell hug, Vanya departed and left Poe alone at the table again. He sat for a minute, his drink nearly finished, and thought of all the times he sat here and took for granted what he had. Silently, he wished you a happy birthday wherever you were in the universe and hoped you weren’t even half as lonely and miserable as he was.

When he finally looked up again, the pretty woman at the table not far from his caught his eye again, and this time he smiled more broadly at her, tilting his head in question. She gestured at the seat next to her and after only a brief pause, Poe decided it was time to give himself a break from the monotony of grief and pain and loneliness and just escape for a few hours.

He joined the woman, Smiling in a way that didn’t feel real at all.

“This is nice, me getting to talk and talk with absolutely no interruptions-“

Tahla flinched when you kicked him under the table, and you stifled a giggle. Stars, it wasn’t as painful as when you’d woken up last night, but your throat still hurt. It was stinging, scratchy sort of pain when you made too much noise, but you found you’d been able to hold a low conversation with your friend over the past hour with minimal issues. It was just the laughing that did you in.

Poe had reluctantly dropped you off to the dining hall for an early dinner after you’d spent a good ten minutes convincing him you could handle going to dinner. He’d then been called away by BB8 to see the General, and you’d watched him actually contemplate what to do. It had almost been funny, but it also made butterflies erupt in your stomach-not for the first time that day. You shooed him away with the promise that you’d seek out Tahla or Temmin so that you wouldn’t be alone.

He’d been so attentive since you woke up, setting out clothing, then by bringing you breakfast and lunch and confining you to lounge on his bed all day. Despite your injury, it had kind of been one of the best days you’d had in years. It had felt a lot like old times, curled up in bed with Poe. The silence was comfortable as you read and he typed up his mission report, though the emotions running through you were entirely new.

It was a lot, emotionally, the last twenty-four hours. As traumatizing as your attack was, you felt like you were being best-taken care of by Poe and felt a little overwhelmed at how good he made you feel. He sensed everything you needed, right down to catching you when you’d be stuck on a page for a little too long, your thoughts turning inward, and he’d press a soft kiss to your hair, run his hand over your jaw, whisper sweet words of comfort.

You wanted to comfort him, too, for having to do what he did. For having to suffer through the worry of how injured you were and if you would recover. You didn’t know how to make him feel better, exactly, but you sensed that the more he took care of you the better he felt in turn, so you allowed him to fret more than was necessary.

And every time he touched you? Well, that was the thing, now that you’d encountered darkness where, for just a few moments you thought you were going to die, you realized you needed to tell him how you felt, finally. You weren’t sure how to bring it up, though, and ended up going back and forth in your head all day trying to decide.

“Lost in your head again, kid.” Tahla’s hand came to rest over yours from across the table; you glanced up from staring into your soup to meet his gaze. He looked extraordinarily understanding considering this wasn’t the first time it had happened during this dinner.

“Sorry. I guess I-I’ve never been attacked like that before. I’ve had, you know, guys pinch my ass or whatever and had no problem kicking the shit out of them if Charlie or Poe didn’t get to them first, but this was...” You trailed off and ran a hand over your face, then sipped your water to help soothe your throat as you spoke. “This wasn’t enemy forces, this wasn’t some guy in a cantina too many drinks in with a shit moral compass. This was-“

“Attempted assault,” Tahla said bluntly, squeezing your hand again. You gulped, then nodded, unsure of what to say. “I’m sorry that you went through that, (y/n), I really am. I wish I could say something more insightful.”

You sighed heavily, waving off his concern, “The worst part is that I passed out before I could...and Poe didn’t say what he did, but I saw Temmin’s face when he was getting off the ship last night. I don’t care how he killed them, I just hate that I couldn’t help, that I couldn’t take away some of the responsibility from him.” You had another couple spoonfuls of your dinner, eyes on Tahla as he thought over your words.

“You know,” He began slowly, tapping his free hand on the table, “Poe basically said the same thing to me when he got me on comms last night. That he wished he’d prevented you from being hurt at all, that he failed in protecting you. He was so worked up, so upset, I thought you were close to death. He really loves you.”

Setting down your spoon with a clang, you sat up straighter before, quietly, replying. “Of course he does, and I love him. We’re a team, one of the best. We get the job done, always have. That’s why I’m freaking out, Tahla,” You flinched as your voice raised too high and your throat burned. You switched to a whisper, “He dropped everything mid-mission to save me, then brought me to the ship. He still...He sent in Kare, but it wasn’t exactly protocol.”

Tahla suddenly grinned at you in a bright, knowing sort of way that made you want to kick him again. Your scowl gave you away, “Don’t kick me, I’m just...I can’t believe you don’t see it. Don’t you realize-aren’t you in love with him?”

You blinked across the table; were you that obvious? If Tahla was calling you out, did that mean others, Poe, had figured you out? “Kriff, Tahla, why are you always so fucking blunt.”

“That’s not an answer.”

You glanced around wearily to ensure you wouldn’t be overheard, “I am, but I just got him back so I’m trying to time it-”

“Maker, I bet he tells himself the same thing and that’s why you’ve both been so fucking blind. You realize he cut down your attackers with his knife?” You stared at Tahla in surprise, “Then he carried you back to your ship and freaked the fuck out until he got you here, not to mention how he told the Healer on call to go to hell and only send me to look at you?”

“I-I, but-“ You gaped. You’d known some of the pieces, of course, but hadn’t realized the extent of Poe's panic.

Tahla laughed, not unkindly, “You want to know what we all used to say back home growing up?” He didn’t wait for your reply, seeming to understand from the expression on your face that words didn’t exist for you right now, “We said, ‘never mess with Poe’s girl’. Remember when Gus broke up with you, said some rude shit to you? Well, he ended up with a black eye for it. Poe’s always loved you. And since I’ve been here these past few weeks, it’s like you two are already a couple.”

You still didn’t know how to reply, so you were incredibly grateful when his pager went off and he glanced down before releasing your hand. With an apologetic smile, he began to stand, and you joined him-no longer hungry-and met him around the table. He pulled you in for a hug, his face schooled to a more neutral look when you pulled back slightly to peer up at him.

“Thanks for everything, Tahla. I’ll be sad when you leave next week.” You admitted softly, and his smile grew.

Leaning down, Tahla pressed a chaste kiss to your cheek and then turned his head slightly to whisper in your ear. “I’ll come back for the wedding, of course.”

And with that, he pulled back, winked at you, and then walked off toward the far doors of the dining hall. You had half a mind to follow him and kick him just for the hell of it, the cheeky bastard, but instead, you pushed your seat in and turned to head back to your room, hoping Poe would be done with the General and would give you an update.

When you walked into the hallway and spotted Poe coming along, a weirdly decisive sensation seemed to settle in your stomach, solidifying the moment his eyes found yours from several feet away. His face broke into a relieved, wide grin and that was it, that was the final cord snapped.

It was almost funny.

You saw a modicum of confusion knit his brows together when you suddenly marched towards him, jaw set because you were trying to reign in the intense emotions now bubbling up inside of you. “Sweetheart?” He said, frowning further when you grabbed his arm and started toward the direction of your rooms. You didn’t speak, afraid of opening your mouth and just word-vomiting every thought you’d ever had, and so you pulled him along silently.

Out of the corner of your eye, you could see him assessing you, trying to figure out what set you off, repeatedly opening and closing his mouth as he considered. When you got to the first empty hallway, you couldn’t contain yourself any longer. You halted, releasing his arm and spinning to face him straight on. Poe opened his mouth, but before he could ask you a question, it just...came out.

“I love you,” You sighed it, lower than you’d have liked to say it because of your damaged vocal cords, but he heard you. You knew because he stiffened like a board and his open mouth slackened almost comically. “I-I’m in love with you, Poe Dameron, and I always have been and I can’t hold it in any longer.”

You bit your lip to prevent yourself from babbling, holding his wide-eyed gaze steadily. Finally saying it aloud was about a million times better than it had felt to simply admit it to yourself. You felt like you could float away just for getting the truth out, though a level of anxiety began to grow the longer he stood silent before you. But you knew his eyes, every expression they’d ever held, and you could see that he was processing your words, that they grew brighter and brighter until movement caught your eye and you glanced down to see his fingers twitch, and then he was moving.

Poe reached up and caught your face gently in his hands, closing the distance between you both so that your bodies were pressed together. He gazed at you in wonder for a moment. “Oh my sweet girl,” He crooned softly, and you were melting into his touch, your heart was surely about to burst now, and then- “I have loved you in every eternity that has ever been, and will ever be. You are everything, sweetheart, everything to me. I should have...should have told you so many times before this.”

And then Poe Dameron slotted his lips over yours and kissed you deeply like he’d been waiting his whole life to do it. It was like coming home. You were rooted to the ground now, his kiss anchoring you, his gentle caress over your cheeks sending fire into your veins that conflicted with the euphoria in your mind.

Because Poe, your Poe, was kissing you. Handsome, tall, broad and strong Poe. Your best friend, your soulmate, was kissing you and you didn’t think you could ever stop now. Your lips parted for him the same moment he did for you, and then you were tasting him and Stars, did he ever taste good. Like home-warm, a smouldering fire on a rainy evening. You knew he liked what he found in kissing you when he groaned lightly, his hands settling at the back of your neck and pressing you closer against him, deepening the kiss as your tongues danced, and you whimpered in response.

With a gasp, Poe pulled back and you saw more than love and adoration on his face, now you saw desire too. Real, heated desire.

And fuck, that pollen had absolutely nothing going for it, you saw that now. Seeing just a sliver of what desire truly looked like on his face, you knew it had all been a huge illusion brought on by the poison, during that mission. You were burning under his gaze now, every cell of your body alight and happy to surrender, responding to him before he’d barely moved. His hands were still on you and you realized yours were in fists at your sides so you reached up and did something you’d always wanted to do-sinking them into his curls.

“Fuck,” He rumbled the moment you gave a slight tug, his eyes fluttering closed briefly, a twitch appearing in his jaw. When he looked at you again you swear you burst into flames. “We need to...talk. In my room.” Before you could reply, he stooped and clasped his hands to the back of your thighs, lifting, and you realized he wanted to carry you.

And you were going to fucking let him. You pressed yourself against Poe and allowed him to guide your legs to wrap around his waist, whimpering again when his hands gripped your hips tightly. You leaned forward, wanting to kiss him. You could see how determined he was to focus, to get to the privacy of his room. You nipped along his jaw as he hurried along, grateful the halls were quiet but truly you wouldn’t have cared if he bowled people over at this point. His hands flexed as you kissed him, pressed you even closer against him when you lightly sucked on a spot on his neck that tasted as delicious as it looked.

“Stars, Poe,” You whispered, playing with his hair still. “I love you so much.”

“Let m-me show you, how fucking much I love you, sweet girl.” He panted in response, stepping through the doorway to his room and laying you onto his bed. The door shut and locked at his command, sealing you into the privacy of his quarters. He pulled back to gaze down at you, eyes wide, then reached up with one hand to very lightly trace along your neck. “And no one is ever going to touch you again.”

He said it with such strength and conviction you could only nod, even though it was a tall promise to make given the lives you lived. Because you believed him; that he meant he would do anything in his power to keep you safe. When he lowered himself down over you and started to kiss you again, you relaxed entirely for probably the first time in your life.

Burning never felt so good.

Poe was kissing you. You were kissing Poe. It was, it had to be, a dream. But if it was a dream how could it feel so intense and real and right? How could kissing you possibly be as perfect as this? He felt like he was whole again-like his heart tripled in size the moment you told him you were in love with him and then every moment with his lips pressed to yours only continued to make it grow.

Yesterday he’d almost lost you, or at least thought he had, and now you were tangling your fingers in his hair and moaning underneath him as you kissed, your body trembling. He’d never been as hard as quickly in his fucking life, could feel himself pulsing where he was pressed against your leg. He wanted to be embarrassed but the look on your face when he’d dropped you onto the bed told him you were thinking the same thing as he was now, just as overwhelmed and needy to get as close as possible, skin to skin. To finally tear down every single barrier-mental and physical-between you and come together, be together.

Which was probably why it seemed to take no time to rip one another’s clothes off until Poe was only in his briefs and you were left in the briefs he’d given you that morning to wear.

“Oh sweetheart,” He murmured, his eyes running over your every dip and curve and swell, the smoothness of your skin calling to him. He was laving his tongue over your nipple the first time you cried out, the sound strangled and broken enough that he pulled back and looked at you closely. “You can’t be loud, sweet girl. I want you to, trust me, but you have to be a good girl. We don’t want to hurt your voice any more than it already is, okay?”

“O-okay, I’ll try.”

Poe hummed, “Tell me the moment you want to stop. We don’t have to do anything you aren’t comfortable-”

You slid one hand out of his hair and dropped it between your bodies as he was speaking, coming to grip his length over his underwear. Poe broke off with a hiss, automatically thrusting into your hold. “I’ve b-been waiting my whole life for you, Poe Dameron.” You sighed, releasing his erection and tracing your hand along the planes of his stomach and chest. “Never stop. I’m yours and I never want to stop.”

A possessive feeling, one that had always lingered in the background when Poe was with you, increased tenfold at your words, further driven by what had happened yesterday. He growled before capturing your mouth in another, more fierce kiss, his tongue exploring you as he ground his hips down a little.

When he finally pulled back, you were gasping and even more flushed, your chest heaving as you looked at him. “You’re mine,” He repeated, bracing one arm on the bed and trailing the other down to tease over your centre, dipping below the band of his briefs. “I’m yours, too, sweet girl.” And he locked eyes with you as he pushed two fingers inside of you, gasping out at the blissed-out, contained moan you allowed yourself and the feel of how tight and wet you were.

Your hips bucked when he pressed in deep and curled his fingers, playing with you until he found a spot within that made you just about shoot off of the bed. With a wicked grin, he started to tease that spot and watched your face as you came undone bit by bit for him.

It was the most vivid, raw experience of his entire life. Every single moment soaked into his mind and became a permanent, detailed memory-your little whines and pleas, the roll of your hips, the heat of your slick and how he could smell you, just the right amount of sweetness. It was all so much more than the sex you’d had during the pollen exposure. Every other sense had been cut down and pushed back during that, but now they were all operating on full levels and it felt so right. It enabled Poe to work you through to your orgasm with ease all the while just about ready to cum in his underwear as he did.

“Shit, you are fucking beautiful, sweet girl,” He moaned, adjusting the arm he was bracing himself with so that he could clamp that hand over your mouth. He sensed you were close, could feel your tight walls clenching, and wanted to protect you from harming yourself if you forgot you couldn’t scream. “Cum for me-I’ve imagined it so many times, need to see you cum for real, for me. I’ll keep you safe, go ahead, let go.”

He felt your lips part behind his hand, then your entire body went rigid and you came hard, back arching until a significant amount of wetness soaked his hand, and the bed, and you started to whine and shake from the intensity of it all. Poe growled as you came, glancing down in wonder to see more wetness pool and realizing you were squirting, and he hadn’t known you could do that.

“Fuck, baby, is that for me? You perfect little thing, you are the hottest fucking woman. Holy shit!”

You slumped into the mattress with a huge breath, the warm air hitting his hand and he moved it so that you could catch your breath. With care he slowly removed his fingers from you, looking from your blissed-out expression to your soaked underwear, to your essence all over his hand. He quickly removed your panties, then shuffled down the bed, even more turned on now.

“I just, fuck I need to taste you real quick, sweet girl.” And he dove into your folds before you could respond, taking care to avoid your sensitive nub, and licked you like it was his last meal. You tasted fucking delicious and he didn’t want to stop, pushing your legs apart he cleaned up every drop you’d leaked while you whimpered for him.

“Sh-shit,” You cried, voice low, writhing against his hold on your hips. “Poe, please. Please!”

Poe pulled back, licking his lips, and grinned up at you. “You okay, sweet girl?” You nodded and he rose, eager to get you over the edge again so that he could lick up everything you gave him. “Please what? What do you need?” He crawled back up your body, chuckling when he felt your hands pushing desperately at his briefs.

You cleared your throat, “You. Always needed you, Poe.” You whispered, your voice so filled with emotion you nearly knocked him over. He took over pushing his briefs off and then reached under you with both arms, securing your body before lifting you, changing positions so that you were sitting in his lap. His length pressed against your thigh as you settled.

Poe stroked some stray hair out of your face and kissed you softly, holding you against him and savouring the moment. He’d never been so filled with emotion and pleasure before, every woman he’d been with over the years simply could not compare to the power and love between you and Poe, and it was terrifying. Sensing his apprehension, you drew back from the kiss and stroked along his jaw soothingly and Poe took a moment to simply drink you in.

“I never knew anything could be like this,” He admitted, now running his hands all over your body, pausing to squeeze his favourite curves. You smiled at him, pupils blown wide with lust, your expression telling him you agreed. “I’ve wasted so many years, (y/n). I’m so sorry.”

“No,” You shook your head, dropping one hand to seek out his length and holding it gently in your hand, lining him up. “No, we aren’t apologizing for our mistakes anymore. It’s you and me now, Poe, you, and, m-me.” You lowered yourself, your scratchy voice breaking off into a sigh of content as you slowly sunk onto his length.

Poe had pictured being with you like this many times in his life, certainly more than he’d like the admit. But even combined, none of those fantasies could come close to how it felt to bring your bodies together, the fucking ecstasy, the sight of his cock splitting you open as you slowly took him inch by inch. Your hands tangled in his hair again as a low, continuous whine fell from your lips. Your face was slightly scrunched as you tried to relax and accommodate him, and Poe was enraptured, watching everything with his hands at your hips.

You were devastating. And you were his.

Poe hurled headfirst into oblivion as you settled fully on his lap, a groan escaping as your tight heat clenched around him, and it was all he could do to speak, to just tell you how perfect you were. “Baby, oh fuck, I love you,” He leaned back slightly, dropping one arm to brace on the bed and then gripping your hip with the other. Poe set a slow and deliberate pace with his feet pressing into the baseboard of his bed. He rolled up, then back, his cock dragging halfway out before sinking back into you as you gripped his shoulders and whimpered above him.

It was sensual, soft, each movement like a slow dance, your hips rolling down to meet his in perfect harmony with his thrusts. You were biting your lip, eyes locked on Poe’s, and he could feel you flutter around him every time he groaned; so he let himself make noise, let you hear how good you made him feel, grunting and cursing with every blissful motion.

Even though the pleasure kept mounting Poe didn't want to rush this, so he moved at the same pace for a long time. Occasionally stopping completely when he was fully inside of you and relishing the sensation until you whimpered and he would move again with a grunt. It was divine, perfection...you. It was all you.

“Poe,” You whimpered as you moved one hand from his shoulder to push into his curls, urging him toward you as you leaned down and pressed your lips to his. He kissed you slowly as well, licking into your mouth, over your lips, drinking up your moans, until eventually it wasn’t enough for you and you made a noise in your throat, a little frustrated sound that made him smirk. Made him even fucking harder.

Without warning he sat forward, brought both hands to your hips and slammed you down onto his cock, using his strength to lift and drop you. “Sweet girl,” Poe grunted as your head tilted back in a silent cry, “That’s it, cum for me, let me feel you, baby, please.” He was desperate to feel you cum on his cock, pulling out and then slamming you back down, meeting you halfway as you struggled to hold in your noises, and Poe let loose another round of groans that seemed to propel you straight over the edge.

Your body curved forward as you came, one of your hands shooting to cover your own mouth as you sobbed in pleasure. He kept moving, watching your face rapturously until a strong clench around his cock drew his gaze downward. He had a moment to recognize what was about to happen before roaring in delight as you squirted for him again, the hot wetness coating his lap. The room filled with the wet slapping sounds of your body meeting his and Poe had to actively work not to cum, setting his jaw and gripping your hips with almost bruising strength.

“Ahh,” You whimpered, your legs going limp. Before you could fully collapse into Poe, he flipped you onto your back and started to fuck you into his mattress while peppering you with soothing kisses, “Oh Poe, more!”

He was right there, nearing the edge and yet savouring every deep thrust into your tight cunt. His movements were getting sloppy now, and he wasn’t even trying to hold back his noises because you felt so fucking good and this was so perfect and he loved you so much.

“Oh baby, baby-” He slammed into you one last time, dropping most of his weight down onto you and filling you deeply as he began to cum, his hips stuttering. You were moaning for him, weakened legs hooking behind his ass to draw him closer as he filled you, “I love you, I love you, I love you-“ He couldn’t stop saying it now, his head dropping to your shoulder-careful to avoid your injured throat-he just kept repeating himself between grunts.

As he started to come down from the high, he realized you were speaking, your voice a whisper in his ear, hands stroking his hair. “I love you too, Poe, my Poe,” He was gasping now, everything that had transpired catching up to him in the clarity of post-orgasmic bliss and your words brought his emotions back to the forefront.

He made to move back, only you stopped him, keeping him close. He looked at you, “You okay, my sweet girl?” Stars, you looked fucked out in the best ways and he swore he could cum again just at the sight of you as drunk on him as he was on you.

You nodded, giving him a soft little smile, “Just stay inside me a little longer.”

Fuck, you were going to kill him, you were so hot.

As much as he liked the idea, he didn’t want to stay on top of you and crush you, so he considered carefully before rolling you both, settling himself into the bed as you lay atop him, whimpering at the movement before resting your head on his chest. He’d started to soften inside of you, but remaining in your warmth kept him semi-hard, not something he’d ever done before and yet he decided at that moment he wanted to do it all the time.

“That was...you are perfect, you know that? Dreamt of you my whole life and that was better than I ever could have imagined.” Poe beamed at you when you looked up at him, your eyes bright. He had never been so radiantly happy in his entire life.

You reached up and ran your hand along his jaw, “Says the man who made me squirt. Twice.” You gigged, and he gazed at you for a moment before responding.

“You’ve done that before, yeah?”

When you shook your head, Poe felt a mixture of both surprise and pride swell within him, and you read that in his expression. “Yes flyboy, that was all you.” Another throaty giggle, which then morphed into a full cough as you hit the limit on your poor vocal cords.

Poe was up in an instant, carefully slipping from you and hurrying to his fridge to get you water. He passed it to you and then went into his fresher to get a warm washcloth. You were gulping the water gratefully when he returned, your eyes raking over his body with a level of possessiveness that made his cock twitch. You wanted him to yourself as much as he wanted you to himself, that much was now abundantly clear.

“Alright, sweet girl, let me take care of you,” He whispered, running the washcloth gently through your folds and tidying you up. You cooed softly, relaxing into the bed. When he was satisfied, he lifted you into his arms and carried you into the fresher to set you on his toilet. “You pee, I’m going to change the sheets.” And he wiggled his brows at you, earning him another big smile that settled right down into his oversized heart.

A short while later Poe Dameron was laying in his bed with you held in his arms. This was not the first time in his life that he drifted off to sleep with you, but it was the first time you were both nude and satisfied and so wholly consumed with your love for one another.

It was the first time he would wake in the middle of the night, hard and aching, only to find you already awake and needy for him, moaning when he rocked his hips into you and fucked you slow.

It was the first time since Charlie’s funeral that Poe would sleep entirely at peace, wrapped around his soulmate.

If you thought making love with Poe Dameron was perfect beyond expectations, it almost made it unfair how fucking good he was at eating you out.

You’d both woken late the morning after coming together and felt ready for more-you wanted him inside of you again. Only he insisted he hadn’t gotten anywhere near his fill of tasting you last night. Now he was happily lapping between your folds with his skilled, hot tongue and absolutely wrecking you, one hand clamped over your mouth to keep you quiet because he knew how fucking good he was.

You saw it the first time he’d made you squirt and then watched it solidify when you admitted you’d never done so before. It was hot, seeing the mixture of passion and cockiness, skill and care. You fell more and more in love with him throughout the night, when you came together and fit so perfectly, and now you were about ready to beg him for his cock before he killed you with his mouth.

When you came again for him, you were spent and though you did get wetter, you didn’t squirt. He didn’t mind, eagerly drinking up what you did give him before moving to kiss your thighs, then eased your legs together and began to massage the aching muscles. “Such a good girl,” He praised, his muscular figure drawing your eyes. You hadn’t realized how talkative, how much noise he would make, and it was the hottest shit. His groans were downright sinful, were what sent you rocketing into your orgasms the night before. “I should keep you here all day, wet and ready for me.”

“Fuck,” You replied, the words shooting straight to your core even after all of the orgasms you’d had. You sat up, struggling slightly and Poe reached out and gripped your arms, lifting you in another show of his strength that made you kind of dizzy with lust. “You’re insatiable. But we’re having lunch with Tahla, remember?”

Realization flashed over his face and he glanced over at his wrist comm next to the bed, relaxing when he saw there was still time before lunch. “Shit, I forgot. He’s leaving soon though, right? So I don’t want to bail.”

“Next week,” Poe moved to sit next to you, both of your backs against the wall now. He pulled the blanket from where it had been kicked to the end of his bed to cover you both. “He said something...that sort of made me realize how stupid I was being, right before I saw you yesterday.”

Poe turned his head to face you, his arms circling your waist and tugging you close to his side, “Oh? What did our wise, filter-free friend say?”

You giggled, then cleared your achy throat, “I had said I was going to miss him when he left and he told me he’d come back for our wedding.” You thought Poe would laugh with you, or at least scoff, but instead, he’d gone quiet and his expression turned inward in a way you couldn’t read. You hesitated a moment before tilting your head into his line of sight, though his mind was clearly a million miles away, “Poe?”

He looked at you then, for what felt like the first time in your life because of how intense his expression was, filled with love and something you couldn’t get a read on.

“I’m sorry,” He began, shaking his head a little, “I just...you are the love of my life. I meant everything I said last night.”

Warmth filled you as he spoke; you weren’t sure you’d ever get used to him saying such perfect things to you. Saying he loved you. “I know, Poe, I meant everything too.” You assured him, brushing your hair over his forehead to push back some stray curls.

Poe nodded, his expression still intense, eyes bright, “We’ve lost a lot of time, sweet girl. But I don’t want to waste another minute. I-” He paused, and you were growing increasingly confused. When he suddenly pulled away standing up to cross his room, your curiosity spiked, confusion at an all-time high.

Until that is, you saw what he was doing.

He was pulling something out of the inner breast pocket of his flight suit, lifting a chain and then turning to you back at the bed. He glanced between his hand and you once, stealing himself before dropping down to one knee next to the bed.

“Maybe he won’t have to come back for our wedding,” Poe opened his palm to reveal exactly what you knew he kept in his flight suit, “Maybe he’s here just in time. Marry me, (y/n). I love you and I never want to spend another minute without you. You are my soulmate, so please marry me, sweet girl.”

Your eyes fell from the passionate look on Poe’s face to his mother’s wedding band that lay in his outstretched hand.

34 ABY - Aftermath of the Battle of Takodana - D’Qar

Climbing from his ship with his adrenaline running high thanks to the success on Takodana, Poe turned and gasped when saw his droid, the orange and white blur zooming over to him. “BB8 my buddy!” He cried, dropping to his knees, “It’s so good to see you!” He looked the droid over, happy to see it looked to be in good shape.

BB8 beeped, excitedly explaining what had happened to it, “What? Saved you? Where is he?” He asked, the droid responding quickly and Poe glanced up, eyes landing on the defected ex-Storm Trooper who had saved Poe. Holy shit!

Finn spotted Poe at the same time and began running forward, “Poe?” He called, and Poe rose to his feet and started towards him, still reeling in surprise that Finn was here, that he was okay.

Poe felt himself grin, “Oh no!”

“Poe Dameron, you’re alive?”

Rushing up to Finn, Poe gasped out, “Buddy!” He pulled his new friend in for a hug, “So are you!” And he looked well enough, thankfully, too. Poe had worried he’d been captured back by the First Order after he couldn’t find him on Jakku.

“What happened to you?

“What happened to me? I got thrown from the crash. Woke up at night-no you, no ship, nothing,” Poe released Finn, pointing to him and then to his droid, “Listen, BB8 says that you saved him.”

“No, no, it wasn’t just me-“

Poe stepped closer to Finn, needing the man to understand, “You completed my mission Finn, I-that’s my jacket.” His gaze dropped to the jacket-his jacket- that Finn was wearing.

Finn glanced down, “Oh,” And he started to take it off and suddenly, Poe realized he didn’t need the jacket back, that Finn needed it more.

“No, keep it,” He punched Finn’s arm affectionately, “It suits you.”

Finn stopped and straightened, his eyes roving over Poe once again, “I still can’t believe your alive, Poe.”

Poe laughed, grasping his friends' shoulders, “You’ve got no idea what I have to live for, Finn. Dying ain’t an option.”

Tags

@mermaidxatxheart @foxilayde @eleinemk @paintballkid711 @mylifeisactuallyamess @20th-centu-fairy-girl @deitysnips @cannedsoupsucks @ubri812 @poedameronloverx @hoeforthefictional @astrological-bitch @itsnottilly@itsdameron @alex-sulli @generousrunawaydonut @wildmoonflower @onlyferorder66 @deanandbobbymcgee @afootnoteinyourhappiness

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

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klvbxlove · 3 years

Text

child (iida x gn! reader)

a/n: i know it’s only been like a month or so since my last iida x reader drabble, but it’s definitely felt like a long time! it was honestly ‘cause i got a bit caught up with writing persona 4 fanfics ever since i started watching the anime with my cousins when i visited them last month LOL. i also was struggling with what to write for an iida drabble, but this idea came up and i figured, “why not?”. although i have to admit, this one does feel a bit short, despite it being a little bit over 1,000 words 🙁 but anyways, i hope y’all will still like it! :)

reader type: gender neutral

reader specification(s): none

genre(s): fluff

trigger warning(s): none

summary: after iida came back home from a hero mission, you weren’t expecting for him to turn into a child the next morning.

word count: 1.3k words

♡ ♡ ♡ (ꈍᴗꈍ)ε｀*) ♡ ♡ ♡

key:

(y/n) = your name

♡ ♡ ♡ (ꈍᴗꈍ)ε｀*) ♡ ♡ ♡

You were aware that Iida had been hit by a villain quirk today. However, when he came back home from his hero mission that same night, nothing seemed to be different about him. And while you were glad he had no injuries, there was still worry lingering inside of you. That was when you assumed that the effect would settle in tomorrow (and that you were scared of).

So when you were slowly brought out of your sleep by an unfamiliar voice, you were a little bit confused. Did someone somehow enter your apartment? Because you were sure that you kept all the doors and windows locked before you and Iida went to sleep.

Instead of fully opening your eyes, you closed them back. You figured this must have been some weird dream. In the meantime, maybe you could move closer to Iida and cuddle him. After all, he had a rough day yesterday, so this might as well cheer him up--

“(Y/N), sweetheart. Wake up!”

Okay, there goes that unfamiliar voice again (and why did they call you sweetheart? As far as you were concerned, so far, Iida was the only one who called you that). With the confusion fully settling in, you did not feel like going back to sleep because you knew something was going on. It was not fear that was settling in. It was more of a suspicion.

Letting out a yawn, you rubbed your eyes before sitting up from your bed. “What? Who’s that?”

The person behind the voice huffed. “I thought you would have recognized me somewhat, but it’s me!”

Seconds passed as the weight on your eyelids was beginning to fade. And now that you thought about it, the voice was starting to sound familiar. You guessed that you did not recognize it since you were not fully awake. But when your eyes fully opened, you were not expecting Iida to not be there beside you.

Instead, you came across a small child wearing his pajamas (and they were too big on him).

At first, you tilted your head in confusion. First off, who was this child, and what were they doing in your apartment? And second off, where was your husband, Iida?

Your eyes squinted at the child as you looked at them in slight suspicion. Meanwhile, they stared back at you. There was also something about them that looked familiar, too (not just their voice). They have even got his hairstyle, his eyes, and his overall appearance. Almost as if it was the child version of Iida--

Wait a minute.

Your eyes widened.

Wait a damn minute.

“T-Tenya?! Wait, is that you?!” You spoke after seconds (what felt like minutes) of being in shock. Part of you believed that this was part of the dream.

The young boy nodded and scratched the back of his head. “Y-Yes, it’s me,” he said bashfully, “As a child, that is...”

WHAT?!

You put a hand on your mouth.

Oh, you have got to be kidding me.

More seconds passed. But eventually, you had accepted that this was reality. Although, there were so many things going on in your head right now. Your husband had mysteriously turned into a child; it must have happened last night when the both of you were sleeping.

You never thought a situation like this would have happened. You were not necessarily bothered by it, as Iida was still alright. Like you knew yesterday, there was no need to treat his wounds or take him to a hospital. Although, you had to wonder.

“How did this happen? I swear, I heard nothing last night, and you were already fast asleep.”

Iida placed a finger on his chin as he looked to be in deep thought. “This must have been the side effect of the villain that struck me with their quirk yesterday,” he inquired. “I could only assume that it took only a few hours for it to settle in, as it occurred between the time that I fell asleep and the time that I woke up. Although it is a bit strange that the villain only did this much to my body,”

Right. You almost forgot about that. “I mean, at least the villain didn’t technically hurt you, right?” you tilted your head.

He nodded. “Yes, I suppose you are right about that, (Y/N). It is a bit unfortunate that this happened. I have no clue how long I will be in this form before I go back to my normal self!”

Iida had a point. You knew that. For all you knew, he would have stayed as a child for a month! However, as this was a situation in which you would begin to panic, there was no single ounce of worry inside you. You began to stare at Iida, and it suddenly felt like your heartbeat was increasing.

Memories were washing over you about the one time you were visiting his family, and his mom was showing you childhood photos of your husband. Ignoring the pleas from Iida, your eyes began to remember seeing the young child in those photos. Oh, how your heart could not take it! He was just too cute to handle! With those bright blue eyes, the big small on his face, how tiny he looked. You swore you were about to cry from the cuteness.

And the fact that you were seeing child Iida right in front of you instead of just in photos?

Your instincts came up to you, and that was when you suddenly grabbed Iida onto your lap and hugged him close. He let out a sound of surprise. “(Y/N)?! W-What are you doing?!” he cried.

“God, you are just too cute, Tenya!” you squealed, rubbing his back as though he needed comfort, “I’m sorry, but let me just hug you for a bit, please.”

“Cute? Darling, I can assure you that I’m not cute! I have no idea where you’re getting this from,”

“Oh, yes, you are! Stop hiding it.” You almost had to bite the inside of your cheeks so you would not burst out laughing. Even as a child, Iida still spoke eloquently, as you had always remembered. As much as this was a bit funny to you, you also found it twice as adorable.

“You know, this might sound bad, but I’m somewhat glad that the villain who hit you with his quirk ended up turning you into a child. You’re ten times cuter than before.”

“(Y/N)!” Iida cried out as he pouted, “You cannot go saying stuff like that! And especially saying that you are happy that a villain used their quirk on me! What if it was something much more serious than this--”

“I know, I know. But still, I could get used to holding you like a child!” you grinned.

Iida sighed. There was no point in trying to argue with you. He could only think back to the time when his mom was showing you his baby photos (much to his dismay), and you were practically fangirling. Iida was almost starting to wish the mission he went on yesterday did not happen in the first place. So ultimately, he might as well let you hug him for the time being.

And it was not like Iida did not enjoy the affection, either. No, he loved it very much! Iida even decided to wrap his arms around you and bury his face into your chest. Although, he swore he heard another squeal come out of you.

After moments went by, you released Iida from your grip, and you looked at him. “Well, how about I make you some breakfast now? I bet you’re a bit hungry,”

As if in sync, Iida felt a grumble coming out of his stomach. You let out a soft chuckle watching him blush in slight embarrassment, and you gently picked him up into your arms. “I guess you are. Alright, let’s go!”

To which Iida smiled softly at that.

#bnha #bnha x reader #bnha reader insert #iida tenya #bnha iida #iida x y/n #bnha x y/n #fanfiction #oneshot #bnha imagines #bnha iida imagines #iida x reader #mha x reader #mha reader insert #mha x y/n #bnha x gn!reader #mha x gn!reader #kristin's writings

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radiorenjun · 3 years

Text

I Don't Need It

• Pairing: Na Jaemin x Reader

• Genre: Angst, Comedy, Fluff

• Na Jaemin despised the idea of soulmates, he wanted to fight against fate for choosing his soulmate for him. Even if it means his stubborn childhood best friend wouldn’t stop trying to make him accept about the similar tattoos on their wrists.

• Warnings: mental breakdowns, heartbreak, rejection, major angst, arguments, flashbacks, physical injuries, fighting, panic attacks, mentions of death. I swear this series is getting closer to an end oml

• Wordcount : 7.6k

• Masterlist here!

• Chapters: XVI, XVII

Jaemin sprinted down to the fields carrying his duffel bag, panting as he bumped into his coach. “Jaemin! Where have you been, son? The game’s starting in two hours and you’re not in uniform!” Coach exclaimed, a big sigh of relief coming from the older man as he placed his hand on his forehead to wipe the sweat off of his brows. Jaemin knelt down to place his hands on his knees to catch his breath.

“I’m sorry Coach, the traffic here was pretty bad. I came as soon as I could, I promise!” the team captain gasped out, standing straight as he held the strap of his duffle bag to give his teacher a nervous smile. Coach sighed heavily before pointing his thumb behind him, “whatever, don’t scare me like that. Go change up and get yourself warmed up. 7 Laps should do,” Coach waved it off with a comforting smile.

“Thanks Coach, won’t let you down!” Jaemin exclaimed with a wide smile, immediately bolting to the locker rooms without hesitation. Coach smiled sadly as he watched the team captain sprint down the halls to try his best to get to the locker rooms as fast as he can, the sounds of the soles of his shoes making small squeaking sounds as they grind against the tiled floor.

Lately, he had noticed how Jaemin had been completely distracted from things these past couple of months. He had noticed how the enthusiastic boy who had been working so hard for two years to earn his position as team captain had become a hollow shell of his former self a couple months ago. Since he had to keep things professional, he didn’t want to ask him anything personal. He can only hope things were going to look up for the brown haired boy.

And for a small moment, things seemed like they did.

“Jaemin! Where the hell were you? You’re almost late,” Younghoon exclaimed, barging into the locker rooms to spot his friend strapping his pads around his knees and arms before grabbing his socks. “Good evening to you too, Younghoon,” Jaemin greeted sarcastically, rolling his eyes at his teammate as he slipped on one of his socks, pulling it up his feet and grabbing his shoes from his duffle bag.

“Relax, I just got stuck in traffic, it’s not that big of a deal,” Jaemin rolled his eyes, scoffing as he pulled the other pair of his socks up and slipped on his shoes before standing up on his two feet. “There weren’t many people on the bleachers when I got here anyway,” Jaemin patted his friend on his shoulder before grabbing his water bottle and zipping up his bag, walking up to his locker as if he had all the time in the world.

“I’ll be right out, just let me take a moment to think things over a bit,” Jaemin waved his friend off, opening his locker before shoving his bag into it and looking at the mirror he had stuck on the door to examine his appearance. “Alright then, but don’t take too long. We’re going to have a role call soon,” Younghoon nodded, walking out of the locker room to jog back to the field where the others were.

Jaemin sighed, hearing the door creak as it slowly closed. Shutting his locker door he backed away, slinging his towel around his shoulder before sitting down on one of the seats in the middle of the room. Sucking in his lips and kissing his teeth, he felt his heart getting heavy as his mind went through flashbacks to when he stopped by your house to give you those gifts he gathered.

‘I hope she liked it,’ he thought to himself, rubbing his forehead as he attempted to compose himself up to put up a serious front for the game. ‘It’s the last game,’ he leaned his chin against his palm, looking down at his shoes, remembering how you and your family had gifted them back on his 17th birthday, a couple days before he was elected as Captain.

“Happy Birthday, Nana!” you exclaimed with a bright smile on your face, giving him a big hug after you placed your gift along with the other pile of elegantly wrapped presents from his friends and relatives. “You’re finally in your sweet seventeen! How does it feel to be on your last stage of teenage hood?” you grinned, looking up at your friend with a playful expression.

Jaemin bit back a frown when he noticed his relatives and friends gushing at your sudden display of affection at the corner of his eyes. In a failed attempt to hide his annoyance from you, he gently wiggled himself out of your embrace, giving you an awkward (obviously forced) smile as he placed his hands on your shoulder gently, taking a step back to keep some distance in between the two of you.

“Thanks for coming Y/n,” he smiled, letting go of your shoulders with his lips pressed into a thin line. “Of course. I’m literally across the street,” you rolled your eyes, laughing lightly before grabbing your gift and placing it in his arms. “Open it! Seriously, this year I saved up for your present considering my parents are constantly nagging me for wasting their money a lot,” you giggled, gulping inaudibly as you avoid the eerie glares your parents sent you upon hearing your last comment.

Jaemin chuckled, looking back at your parents behind you and sending them a genuine smile, waving slightly as he watched your parents walk into the kitchen to chat with his other relatives. “Are you sure you didn’t steal money from a bank or something, the box actually feels like it has something inside of it,” he chuckled, attempting to get rid of the annoyance bubbling up inside of him as you giggled in response.

“I can guarantee you, no banks are robbed. I worked hard babysitting for my neighbours for weeks to get enough money to buy you a present without my parents complaining. I promise!” you grinned, putting a hand on your chest and putting the other up beside you as if you were making a pledge. “Now open it! I want to see your reaction!” you exclaimed, clasping your hands together with a small clap.

Jaemin looked down at his gift, knowing that people are going to comment at how sweet the two of you are being. Biting his lip before shaking his head ‘no’, “I’ll open it later after the party, I’ll let you know my-”

“Oh come on, Jae. Open the gift, I wanna see what she got you, too,” Hyuck exclaimed, coming up to the two of you and slinging an arm around both of your shoulders, giving you a mischievous grin. “Not gonna lie, I’m quite curious to see what she got you,” Jeno exclaimed with a soft smile, snucking his hands into his pockets with a soft shrug as he walked up to you guys.

Jaemin looked up at his friends with a blank expression before looking back at your hopeful expression. Sighing heavily, he sat on his couch and set the gift on his lap, pulling the string you had tied all over the box gently before pulling the lid off. Eyes widening slightly when he saw that it was the NIKE sport shoes he had been bugging about for the past two months.

‘Exactly how many babysitting jobs did you take to get this under two months?’

“I only got enough money for half, I used the birthday money I got from my aunt to pay the rest of it,” you spoke, as if you knew what he was thinking at that exact moment. “Just so you know I didn’t do something illegal,” you joked, raising your pinky to indicate that you really didn’t do anything suspicious to get him the shoes in question.

“Y/n, you really didn’-”

“Y/n! You got my son a pair of shoes?” Mrs. Na exclaimed, walking up towards you and landing a hand on your shoulder as Hyuck backed off to give both of your parents a polite bow. “Y/n has been working a lot of babysitting duties to get Jaemin these out of the goodness in her heart,” your mother bragged, making your smile falter slightly, your eyes darting to Jaemin’s figure.

“No, Mom! It’s nothing really, I just wanted to do something nice for a friend!” you shook your head abruptly, waving your hands around. not wanting to make a big fuss about this, knowing full well that Mrs. Na was going to bring up the soulmate talk again. You didn’t want Jaemin to get upset on his birthday because of this.

“That’s so nice of her! Y/n, you’re such an angel. Jaemin, why can’t you get her something as well? Usually, the gentlemen always buys the lady gifts. Why can’t you just accept the fact that you’re lucky enough to have Y/n as a soulmate and drop this whole nonsense,” his mother exclaimed, giving you both an innocent smile as she softly pats Jaemin on the shoulder.

You watched as the slightly annoyed look on Jaemin’s face darkened, his jaw clenched slightly as his fists gripped hard on the box to suppress his anger. “Really mom? Right now?” he deadpanned, looking up at his mother with half-lidded eyes. Clicking his tongue, he closed the box again and stood up from his sitting position on the couch, handing you the box with a lazy attempt of a smile.

“Jaemin doesn’t have to accept the present if he doesn’t want to, it’s his birthday after all,” your father said, attempting to ease down the tension in the atmosphere, waving it off as he placed a hand on your head to give you some comfort, causing a small smile to spread across your lips as you looked down at your feet.

“Here, you can have it. I don’t think I’m going to use it much anyways,” Jaemin spoke with a click of his tongue, oblivious to how a wave of sadness glossed over your pupils at his words. You stopped yourself from dropping your jaw as you saw Mrs. Na’s eyes widened in shock as well at her son’s sudden rude behavior, knowing that if he didn’t accept the gift, she was going to give him a shameless scolding in front of his friends and relatives.

Gulping, you pushed the gift back to him as you shook your head. “Come on! You’re going to be Captain soon! I’m sure you can use these to flex or as a celebration. You can just keep them! You don’t have to wear them or anything-” Jaemin was unaware that you were trying to keep him from getting scolded by his mother in front of his friends. All that was going through his mind at that exact moment was how he was blaming you for embarrassing him in front of his family and friends.

“No, I insist. You can take it back. Hell, you can wear it if you want,” he shook his head, shoving the box back in your arms with an annoyed huff. You held the box against your chest at his sudden use of force, surprised at his sharp tone as you sucked in a deep breath to compose yourself as you began to feel a jolting pain in your wrist and a dull ache in your chest.

“Jaemin! It’s rude to give back birthday gifts! What’s wrong with you? That’s your soulmate, right there. You can’t just shove a gift back to her so rudely, this isn’t how I raised you. Accept her gift right now or else,” Mrs. Na scolded, attracting attention from the other guests in the house. Jaemin tensed up, taking a deep breath to keep his cool before looking back up at you and forcefully taking the box from your arms with one hand.

“Happy?” he mumbled under his breath quietly, but loud enough for only you to hear, his cold tone inevitably sending daggers piercing into your heart. He then walked off to place the box along with the other pile of presents, leaving you standing there awkwardly in between your parents and your friends, who were equally surprised at his sudden actions.

“Fuck.” Jaemin hissed under his breath, burying his head in his arms as he remembered the lost, hurtful expression on your face. His chest aching with guilt and his stomach bubbling with anger as he tries to suppress his emotions. He couldn’t imagine how hurt you must’ve felt by his harsh attitude, he couldn’t help but feel angered by his own past actions, his immaturity, his selfishness.

“I wouldn’t be surprised if she didn’t come, really,” he muttered under his breath, rubbing his face out of frustration as he stood up, kicking the lockers to release some of his pent up anger before sighing heavily. He winced when a sudden pain appeared on his wrist, his heart aching as he couldn’t get you out of his thoughts.

The way your eyes glossed whenever he said or did something out of anger, the way you still smiled through the pain he put you through, the way you would still pretend to be okay and pretended that his actions didn’t affect you at all deep down the next day. The thought of how you came to start hating the soulmate system because of him made him feel an unbelievable amount of guilt.

The thought of how many times Renjun had comforted you as you were crying your eyes out because of what he did sent knives into his heart and flames into his blood. The thought of how the thing you desired most, the thing you wanted most in your life, love. Was the one thing he had stomped over and over again to the point you couldn’t find the energy to fix what’s left made him want to tear himself from the inside and out.

“I’m a fucking asshole, I really didn’t deserve her,” he hit his head against the metal surface of his locker door, ignoring the pain that came with it, for the pain in his chest was greater than anything he had ever imagined. He couldn’t imagine how scared you were when you felt this searing pain for the first time all alone, he still couldn’t imagine how you still had the patience to live through this until you became numb to the pain.

He really didn’t deserve you. He didn’t deserve your affections. He didn’t deserve to receive all of your love letters. He didn’t deserve to receive all of your weekly Thursday cookies. He didn’t deserve the shoes you got him for his birthday (the one he’s currently wearing). He didn’t deserve to receive your music box as a gift. Hell, he doesn’t deserve to get an ounce of kindness from you.

All he knew was that if you didn’t show up. If you really prove to him that you want him out of your life, he was willing to deal with the heartbreak that comes with it tenfold. From now on, he would stop being so immature. So ungrateful. So selfish. He didn’t want to be the same person he was then.

He knows that from this day on, he wouldn’t complain about any of your decisions. He would do what you have been doing for the past two years. Take the pain and push it down his throat until he was almost walking on them.

“Wait, wait, wait, let me take a minute to run things over.”

You bit your lip, gripping your pillow against your chest tighter as you heard Renjun take a deep inhale through your phone speakers. “Jaemin came up to your house without any warnings whatsoever to give you an ominous bag that could’ve possibly lead to your demise and apologized to you and asked you to watch his game this afternoon last week and you decided to tell me this the very last minute?” Renjun exclaimed with a deadpan tone.

You gritted your teeth, making a small ‘pop’ sound with your lips before sighing. “Well... yeah basically,” you shrugged, placing your chin on your pillow as you winced at your last minute decision. But you desperately need your best friend to give you advice if what you’re doing was the right thing to do. “So what? Are you actually going to go? It’s starting in two hours-ish?” Renjun asked as he played his game, you could almost hear the battle going on behind the screen as he aggressively clicks on his keyboard while muttering incoherent swears under his breath.

Pressing your lips into a thin line, you gripped the letter Jaemin had written for you in your hands. You let out another exhausted sigh, looking up at your wall clock. “No, I don’t think so,” you shook your head, realising that Renjun couldn’t see you do so a few seconds afterward. “I mean, I considered it. But I don’t know, I’m scared,” you frowned, placing the letter beside your phone.

“Are you sure? I know you’re scared but are you sure you don’t want to come to his last game?” Renjun asked, popping a chip in his mouth as he listened closely to your upcoming words. “Aren’t you supposed to be hyping up my decision to be an independent woman who’s going to live her life all sad and alone because she just rejected her soulmate,” you complained in a joking tone, attempting to lighten up the situation a bit.

“Listen, listen!” he chuckled, swearing afterwards when he avoided an attack. “I’m not saying you have to. I’m proud of you for standing up for yourself and it’s completely understandable for you to say no considering he treated you like trash for the past two years and got pretty petty when you pulled an uno reverse card for three months,” Renjun explained, popping a potato chip in his mouth in between sentences, giving you ‘that low quality asmr experience’ as he would like to say.

“I just had flashbacks to when you were still a big simp for him. How you used to come to all of his games and how you said you promised to yourself that you were going to attend all of them until his last one,” Renjun continued on, pausing his game to pay close attention when choosing his words considering you’re actually asking for advice from him. “I would prefer you not to go, to be honest. But if I remember correctly, you did say it’s been some sort of tradition for you two to hang out after a game or something?” Renjun scratched the back of his head.

“So you’re saying that it wouldn’t hurt to go one last time?” you asked, looking back down on the letter in your hands. “I’m saying that this is a choice you should be making yourself, not me. Think over the pros and cons and weigh them all out. The choices you make today will heavily impact on your love life,” Renjun advised with a click of his tongue, playing with the controller in his hand as he gazed at the paused game on the screen.

“Pros of me going to his game is fixing our relationship and us starting over. But the cons of me going is that I’d possibly get hurt again at some point, I’m not ready to get hurt again,” you frowned, picking on your nails nervously as you think things over with furrowed brows. “Though, if I don’t go, I would completely get rid of the chance of having a future with Jaemin and lose contact with him all together for possibly the rest of our lives,” you mumbled under your breath, letting out a huff of breath in distress.

“The pro is that I’m certain I won’t feel the same pain as the one I’ve been feeling for the majority of high school, right?” you let out a nervous laugh, looking back at your phone. “Y/n, you and I both know that you know the answer to that,” Renjun sighed sympathetically, knowing full well that either way, you had to risk the fact that you were still going to feel emotional pain. Back when you were still in middle school, you often researched the whole soulmate system religiously.

You knew that despite the fact that it was still a rare thing, rejecting your soulmate was equivalent to saying no to fate. There was a thirty percent chance that you would rekindle your relationship afterwards considering you two were practically made for each other. But you knew that there was a greater chance of being alone with the constant dull ache in your chest for the rest of your life. And you weren’t sure if you could handle that considering you haven’t been doing so well emotionally during the past three months.

Well, he did reject you first. It’s not that you were seeking for revenge or anything, but it would be reasonable for you to refuse, right? Though the thought of living with eternal loneliness with the five percent chance of finding someone else was quite unsettling to think about. You knew that one your soulmate rejects you for good, the soulmate mark would turn grey and fade away. But the outline of your mark would leave permanent marks to remind you of the pain for the rest of your life.

Were you willing to risk getting hurt one more time and go to the game to support your soulmate or will you stay home and risk having the one thing you admired so much disappear from your life permanently?

“So, have you decided yet? The game starts in less than thirty minutes,” Renjun asked after a pregnant pause, smiling as he could practically hear the gears in your head working. You have never been the quiet thinker, after all. You looked down at your wrist, tugging the sleeve of your shirt down to reveal your soulmate mark, your eyes burning holes at the evidence of your emotional pain painted on your skin.

How could something so small cause so much pain?

“I’ll give you a moment to think things over yourself, okay?” Renjun coaxed in a soft tone, the same tone a mother would use to console their child. “Okay,” you replied shortly, biting your lip nervously. “I’ll see you at school, right?” he chuckled, his thumb hovering over the red button. “Of course, where else would I be?” you responded with a light laugh, shaking your head at your friend. You both said your own goodbyes before Renjun hung up the call without another word to continue his game and leave you with your thoughts.

“I’m still not sure,” you mumbled almost inaudibly, rubbing your hands over your face as you got up from your bed, dropping the letter on the pillow as you walked over to your closet. Sliding the door open, your eyes scanned the white hoodie Jaemin had left in your room a couple months ago. Back when the two of you were still on neutral terms, Jaemin would bring an extra hoodie since you would always forget yours (despite the fact that he knew how you were just making excuses to wear his clothes).

You didn’t know why he kept letting you use his hoodie despite the fact that you both knew you were purposely leaving yours at home. You remembered how he would flick your forehead whenever you got to his car and realise that you forgot your hoodie. He didn’t make you run back to your house to get one. You remembered how he would reach to the backseat of his car with a heavy sigh before pulling out some random hoodie of his and throwing it at your face sloppily.

You remembered how he would chuckle and flick your forehead before scolding you for the next five minutes as he drove the both of you to school about how you should never forget to bring your hoodie. How you shouldn’t make it a habit in case he fell sick and couldn’t bring you his. (In which you proceeded with replying how you hoped he would fall for you instead of falling sick, earning a death glare from the older boy in return)

You couldn’t help but smile as you pulled the hoodie from the closet, holding onto the clothing rack as you pulled the sleeve towards you to get a closer look at the clothing. It still had the strong distinctive smell of Jaemin’s cologne despite the fact it’s been locked away in your closet for the past five or four months. Your heart ached when you realized you missed those moments.

You missed having your usual morning conversations, your after school trips to the diner your parents used to take you everyday for lunch back when you were still in middle school, your little study dates. (not really dates but you just liked to call them that to fulfill your romantic fantasies with Jaemin despite the fact that he has told you countless of times that he’s only there because he doesn’t want both of your mothers scolding you for waking up at ass o’clock to do the homework you forgot about)

You missed Jaemin in general. The way he smiles whenever you do something to amuse him or make him happy. The way he worked hard to achieve his position as team captain while also making sure you were studying and eating well from time to time. You knew deep down Jaemin didn’t hate you, he still cared about you despite his mean actions. The hurtful things he did to you the past two years were hard to forget but you knew he was just frustrated.

It’s not that his actions weren’t acceptable but you couldn’t help but admit that part of this was your fault as well. If only you weren’t as eager to convince him to be your soulmate maybe the two of you would still be on good terms. If only you didn’t shove it into his face and overwhelm him with surprise gifts or small love letters ever since your soulmate mark appeared on your skin. Maybe then he would’ve given you a chance.

Looking it from his perspective, you couldn’t help but feel guilty for overwhelming him and pressuring him to accept your affections when he wasn’t sure of his own feelings towards you. Frowning, you remembered that day before the dinner party happened when Jaemin was driving the both of you back home. Your heart ached when you remembered how upset he was when then, remembering how he smiled at you when you succeed in comforting him.

You remembered the feeling of being content that day, listening to music as you and Jaemin talk about the random things you did at school during classes as you were on the way home. You missed it. You missed him. At this point, you didn’t care anymore if you and Jaemin won’t be a thing. You wanted your best friend back, turning your head towards the frame on your nightstand, you let out a small sigh.

Walking towards it, you picked the frame up in your hands to get a closer look. Your eyes softened when you saw the little scribbles you drew on the glass to decorate the picture inside of it. Inside the frame was a picture the two of you had taken together back during the summer right before you started middle school. Your parents had taken the both of you to Disneyland together to celebrate your graduation.

You couldn’t help but chuckle at the picture, seeing as Jaemin had a bunny cap on his head and posing dramatically to the camera with a peace sign, his other hand wrapped around your neck to pull you down against him. While you, on he other hand, were smacking his arm aggressively to make him let you go as you laughed at the camera, giving the camera a peace sign as well. Your blurred hand causing a small chuckle from your own throat.

You were both so happy back then.

“Honestly, despite everything that happened, I would be surprised if she didn’t come,” Hyuck said, tugging on his socks before smacking his thighs with his lips sucked in as the three boys scanned the crowd to look for the girl that is Jaemin’s soulmate. “Really? Why?” Jeno asked with a small chuckle, scratching the back of his neck. “Wouldn’t it be the other way around?” he cocked his head to the side in confusion.

“Dude, think about it! I’ve seen k-dramas before. If Jaemin hadn’t invited her, I’m sure she would’ve come here anyway to watch whether he would fuck up on the last game of the year or not,” Hyuck smacked Jeno’s shoulder, a proud smile etched across the honey boy’s lips. “Listen man, she’s going to come here any second. I can feel it in my bones,” he added on, standing up dramatically and squinting his eyes at the students gathering to watch the game on the bleachers.

Jeno let out a small snort, standing up for a moment to give the younger boy a smack upside the head, smiling when he heard the boy let out a soft yelp despite the fact that he barely touched the boy. “What are you psychic?” he shot back with a raised brow. Hyuck glared down at the samoyed looking bastard before him smiling innocently, “I might as well be. With a brain like mine, I’m pretty sure I am,” he retaliated, sticking his tongue out as he crossed his arms over his chest.

“Keep telling yourself that, Lee,” Jeno shook his head with a small click of his tongue. “We’re both Lees, you prick.”

“Shut up, both of you. Your loud asses are making my brainwaves malfunction, I can’t focus on finding y/n in the crowd,” Jaemin hissed, turning his head to his friends bickering right beside him before turning his head back to the crowd of students waiting for the game to start as they warm up for the next fifteen minutes. “Oh how the tables have turned,” Jeno chuckled, sharing a knowing look with Hyuck as they stared back at his friend.

At that moment in their eyes, Jaemin currently resembled a small hopeful puppy looking around for it’s owner, waiting for them to come home. Ironically to the reason why he was looking around so eagerly was almost no different than a puppy waiting for their owner to come home. With Jaemin’s brown hair messy and slight sweat dripping down his forehead as he looked around nervously, wishing desperately that you were sitting somewhere in the crowd with a corndog in hand waiting for him.

“Once again, Lee Jeno, shut up,” Jaemin turned his head to give his friend an innocent smile before frowning abruptly and turning his head back to the crowd, biting his lip as he cracked his knuckles to release tension in his muscles, stretching his arms in the process. “Do you know what your simp ass searching for y/n reminds me of?” Hyuck asked, giving his brown haired friend a cheeky grin.

“Y/n?” Jeno raised his brow teasingly.

“Bingo.”

“I’m getting flashbacks to when you would literally sprint like sonic the fucking hedgehog back to the locker rooms once the game was over so you wouldn’t have to talk to y/n and I quote ‘risk her embarrassing’ you in public’,” Hyuck raised both of his index and middle finger and wiggled them down to tease the boy even more. “Ah yes, poor girl was looking all over the stadium for you like a lost kitten, carrying water bottles for the whole group,” Younghoon suddenly joined in, sitting beside Jaemin and slinging his arm around the team captain’s shoulder.

“You’re really making me feel like an actual jackass for getting my hopes up,” Jaemin deadpan, looking back at his friends with a raise of his brow, using his hand to slide Younghoon’s arm off of his shoulder with a roll of his eyes. “I’m sure she’s going to show up, Capt. Relax, we were just messing with you,” Younghoon hit the back of his hand against Jaemin’s chest, giving him a light heartening smile to make the boy ease up a bit.

“As you said before, traffic was pretty bad right? School is what? 15-18 minutes away from her place?” Hyuck nodded enthusiastically, however the smile on his lips wasn’t genuine enough to convince him otherwise. “I shouldn’t get my hopes up anyway,” Jaemin frowned, feeling his heart grow heavy in his chest as he glanced back at the clock that was displayed on his phone lock screen, letting out a heavy sigh in response.

Shaking his head out of his thoughts, he patted his knees in an attempt to lighten the mood. “This is the last game until we actually graduate, how are we feeling?” he gave his teammates a sad smile, looking back at the stadium in front of them. “Like shit,” Hyuck responded with a small chuckle, laying his elbow on Jeno’s shoulder as they look around at their teammates chattering in the other benches.

“We’re growing up,” Jeno stated with a sigh, leaning back on his two arms on the bench. “Damn, have you guys picked your colleges yet?” he asked once again, earning a small pregnant pause. “I have a few choices but I’m letting my parents decide this one,” Jaemin responded, clicking his tongue as his thoughts wandered back to you at the mention of colleges.

Back when the two of you were still in middle school, the two of you promised that you would at least apply to the same college once or apply to colleges near each other so you could get in touch easily. He chuckled softly at the thought of making that pinky promise back when the two of you were still thirteen years old. ‘I don’t think we’re going to fulfill that promise, y/n,’ he thought to himself sadly, a sad smile spread across his face.

“They say that coach is electing a new captain soon, any bets?” Hyuck asked with a smile, raising his eyebrows suggestively as he nodded to their underclassmen chatting on the bench beside theirs. “What’s in it for us?” Younghoon asked, a grin spreading across his cheeks at the idea of one last bet. “How about if the loser gets to treat us to some barbeque?” Jeno piped up, pointing his index finger to the whole team.

He truly wouldn’t blame you if you decided not to show up. But he does admit that it would sting if you didn’t, you were his number one supporter after all (aside from his parents, of course). He doesn’t know what he’s going to do if you didn’t show up, he doesn’t know what he was going to do if you truly want him out of your life. He doesn’t know how he’s going to avoid you for the rest of the semester. But considering graduation is less than three months away, he knew that he would make do with busying himself with studying.

The boys looked around, internally gulping for their wallets before nodding. “You’re on. take your pick, Lee,” Younghoon nodded, shrugging nonchalantly. “I think Jung Sungchan over there is going to be the less idiotic version of Jaemin,” Hyuck pointed out, his eyes darting towards their unbelievably tall underclassman who was laughing along a joke Chenle told him. “Tall kid,” Jeno commented with a chuckle.

“I heard Yangyang’s taking a gap year before he goes back to Germany for college, my bets are on him,” Younghoon bit his lip, crossing his fingers together before aggressively pointing them at the German boy who was fiddling with his phone without a care in the world. “Good choice, good choice,” Jeno nodded, squinting his eyes at the younger boy before looking around his teammates. “Shotaro is pretty good, don’t you think?” Jeno commented.

“So your bet is on Shotaro?” Jaemin asked, raising his brows in amusement as he watched his friends make their last bet of the year. “Look man, have faith in the kid. Your unfocused ass never saw how he would train with Sungchan everyday after practice, they basically have the same skills,” Jeno scoffed, rolling his eyes as he smacked Jaemin’s shoulder in response, letting out a soft laugh afterward.

“Are you joining the bet or not, Jaemin?” Hyuck asked, raising a brow at his younger friend. Jaemin let out a chuckle, shaking his head profusely. “I’m good, I think I’m broke enough,” Jaemin raised his hand to wave it off, indicating that he was happy to be a spectator of their silly little bet. “You guys are idiots for making bets right before college starts,” Jaemin commented, making his friends laugh and nod in agreement.

“Coach is coming over, get up before you make anymore dumb decisions,” Jaemin teased with a light laugh, patting his friend’s shoulders before standing up and alerting his teammates to stand up and greet their coach with a formal bow before discussing over strategies five minutes before the game officially starts.

During the Coach’s explanations, Jaemin’s eyes couldn’t help but wander towards the crowd sitting on the bleachers once again, his heart feeling even more heavier than before as his anxiety rises up in his veins. Trying to put his head back in the game, he tried his best to think positive and stop looking back at the bleachers. ‘She’s coming right?’

‘Right?’

Jaemin was sitting now on the same spot on the bench as he was before. But this time, he was alone. There was no one left in the stadium other than himself and probably the staff cleaning up the back storage room. But other than that, he was completely and utterly alone with no one else but his own thoughts. His wrist was burning, his heart was aching like never before.

He wasn’t in his uniform anymore, he had showered and changed back into his original clothes. His team won the game as expected, everyone jumped for joy and congratulated them as they received their last trophy of the season. He watched as his friends, classmates and teammates gave each other some emotional support through hugs, bro-handshakes, pats on the back and other forms of silent congratulations.

Though his mind wasn’t in a state to celebrate. His heart was still searching for yours, his eyes wandered everywhere as the crowd of students gathered around him along with the students of the rivals he was competing with. With every passing second, his heart sank even more into his stomach as his tattoo began to glow red against his sweatband, the familiar searing pain gradually increasing as his heartbeat quickened its pace in hopes of searching for your figure waiting for him.

He showered as quickly as he could before running back to the stadium, going around and asking his classmates and your close friends who came to support the others on your whereabouts. Only to receive the same answer over and over again. Only to receive the same sympathetic expressions as sad shakes of their heads.

“I haven’t seen her since school ended.”

Nonetheless, Jaemin was too stubborn to go home. He wanted to wait for you. He had hope that you were on your way, he had hope that you would run into the stadium panting and sweating with a cold water bottle in your hand and a comforting smile stretched across your lips. He knew he was getting his hopes up. Why was he getting his hopes up now? Didn’t he tell himself that it was completely okay if you didn’t show up?

He didn’t have any expectations when he arrived but why now? Why did his mind have to build up high expectations and give him hope that you would come to the game right after he said that he didn’t have any hope that you were coming?

Oh who was he kidding?

He lied.

He lied to himself. That’s what he wanted to believe, he wants to be okay with the fact that you don’t want anything to do with him anymore. It was completely reasonable for you to do so. But he still couldn’t come to terms with it. He didn’t want to come to terms with it. It hurts when you try so hard not to set high expectations and not give you hope only for you to be disappointed when you realised all this time you were just lying to yourself to make yourself feel better.

“Was this what you had been feeling all this time?” he mumbled to himself, tired half lidded eyes looking down at the phone in his hand. His screen showed a picture you sent of yourself eating pocky sticks a couple months ago with the caption ‘you okay?’ right below it. “Was this what you had to go through countless of times?” He asked, his voice breaking slightly as he felt tears well up in his eyes as the pain in his heart increased tenfold, tightening his grip on his phone.

Jeno had offered him to go for a boys night out as a celebration, but Jaemin kindly declined, briefly saying that he wanted to stay back a bit to look around the stadium for memories sake one last time. But they both knew Jaemin was just saying that so that they could have fun without worrying about him, they knew that Jaemin was going to wait here until the stadium lights went off just for you. Because that’s exactly what you did back then whenever he escaped to go home alone after the game to hang out with his friends without you on his tail.

You waited for him on your regular spot on the bleachers or at the bench so you could offer Jaemin some ice cream to celebrate, oblivious to the fact that he had run off to celebrate with the rest of his teammates. Waiting until the stadium lights had dimmed and until the janitors told you that everyone else had gone home. It hurt to think that this happened throughout all of the games he had in his high school year.

They knew if he didn’t say that, they would’ve stayed to keep him company. But his excuse made them realise that he probably needed some time to process things himself. They could all see the sadness and guilt bubbling up in his pupils as he tried to keep up a strong front. Giving them waves and fist bumps before walking back to the stadium which was almost half empty.

He stayed on that bench for who knows how long, watching as one by one the stadium started to empty, so did his heart. He watched as the lights began to dim, just like his hopes of ever starting fresh with you. Biting his lip as he scanned the stadium, ignoring sympathetic stares from all his peers and a few of his rivals as he waited for you. He didn’t care about the embarrassment he was enduring, he didn’t care how people were talking about him.

Talking about how he deserved it for treating you like shit. Talking about how he finally got a taste of your own medicine. Talking about how bad he had to be for you, his own soulmate, to ditch him like this. Words hurt. Their words hurt him because he knew it was true. No matter how many times he denied it, it was all true. He did deserve this. He finally got a taste of his own medicine. He deserved to sit here waiting for who knows how long.

“Was this what you had to endure everyday?” he mumbled to himself, finally letting himself break once the stadium lights had dimmed, signalling that they were going to close the school soon. Slipping his phone back into the pocket of his jacket he raised his left wrist up and gazed down, his glossy, red eyes unwavering at the red glow surrounding the outline of his tattoo. The pain in his heart outweighs the pain in his wrist. The least he could do now is suck it up and bear with it.

Slowly, he got up from the bench and began walking to the parking lot. The pain in his heart caused his tears to gather in his eyes even more as he walked to his car with hands in his jacket pockets. He pulled out his car keys, pressing the button to unlock it before getting in the driver’s seat, shutting it close behind him with a soft ‘slam’.

He let out a heavy sigh as he crossed his arms on top of the steering wheel of his vehicle, burying his face into his arms before releasing all of his pent up emotions. Letting his tears flow like a dam being broken down, sobs erupting from his throat as he finally succumbed to the pain in his chest. Digging his fingers into the leather of the steering wheel as he cried his emotions out. The guilt, the sadness, the anger, the self-hatred he had built up for himself finally bursting.

His heart was crying out for yours. Throughout his whole life, you were always there to comfort him when he was at his worst. Now that you were no longer in his life, he had no one else to hold on to. And it was all his fault. It was his fault for taking you for granted. And now he has to come to terms that he has lost you by his own actions.

And now he had to bear with the consequences of his actions.

T A G L I S T : @candiednickles @itlittlefangirl @cherrym4rk @gotoartistprofile @d-nghyck @kingjvngins @aconeptun @chaeshii @lixseu @morks-watermelon @12am-musings @cherrystay @lowkeyviv @btm-taeyong @gothmingguk @luvlyjaemin @cowward @smileyyuta @cakelyn @uncovermenow666 @comically-sleep-deprived @wtfhaechan @xcherrybbyx @wishing–butterfly @wordsgodeep @astroboy-lele @sweetmoonlight9 @chwenchew @stuckwithhyuck @yunoelea @angelrenjunie @dae-chan @jenseoull @marklexleaf @yasmini24 @cloudreads @sptegami @mango-bear @dumplingley @bereavedswallow @etherealbyeol @247byun @42hyuck @lanadreamie @nohyuckist

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whumpmatsus · 3 years

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Hi! 👋 Two things! First, a fic request (again Ichimatsu whump because I'm sorry but I have to): Ichimatsu takes a hit meant for one of his brothers (be it accidental or on purpose) and is pretty badly injured. Cue the rest of the Matsu Bros. to the rescue!

And second, um...would you be okay with it if, let's just say hypothetically, I made fan art of some of these fics? 😺

FIRST OF ALL thank you for this because it's LITERALLY the longest thing I've written on this blog so far!! so I hope u enjoy it fully uwu

Matsu Bros plus a cameo by Mama Matsu!! <3

second... YESSSS THAT IS ALWAYS DEFINITELY OKAY!!! aaaaaaa you flatter me <3 <3 <3

When Ichimatsu first wakes up in the hospital, he doesn’t remember why he’s here. Hell, he barely even remembers who he is.

All he really knows initially is that he’s in a lot of pain. It hurts to breathe, his face is kind of numb in spots, and his leg feels weirdly positioned, plus heavy and uncomfortable. His shoulder feels kind of sore… as does his wrist.

There’s also some strange fog drifting around his mind that’s making it difficult to really focus on anything.

He feels a hand in his own. Not very tight… he thinks it’s someone giving just enough pressure to let him know they’re here. That he’s not alone. That’s comforting, he thinks.

Then he starts to remember things.

He was out walking with some of the others; Karamatsu and maybe Totty? What they were doing is a little fuzzy and isn’t coming to him instantly. He just recalls they were together, walking on the sidewalk. They came to a crosswalk and waited their turn. Karamatsu, as the eldest out of the three, stepped forward first to cross.

Ichimatsu thinks Karamatsu’s intention was that he would hold Totty’s hand to keep the youngest safe while they crossed, and Ichimatsu could follow after them. He doesn’t believe Totty had any objections.

They waited. They followed all the rules they were supposed to. The crosswalk light told them they were allowed to go.

It was someone else who broke the rules, tearing through a stop sign, the car headed right for his brothers. He… thinks he remembers Totty had only just come forward to grab Karamatsu’s hand, so he wasn’t quite there yet. Karamatsu was the one in the most danger.

He doesn’t remember much else. Running forward, pushing his baby brother behind him and yelling for his big brother to move.Then an impact. A lot of pain. Black and nothingness and warmth.

Now he’s awake. Putting the pieces together, he’s pretty sure he shoved Karamatsu forward and ended up getting hit by that car.

He thinks, in his haze, that the car should have hit Karamatsu, because he was the one who went first, because things happened so fast. But he’s glad it didn’t happen that way.

A couple groans catch the attention of whoever’s in the room, and he gets a squeeze to the hand. “Ichimatsu? Honey? Are you awake?”

“Mmh…” It hurts a little to move his head. He does it anyway, getting a glimpse of his mother. “… Mom…?”

It looks like she’s smiling… relieved, maybe. “Yes! Yes, my sweet boy, Mama is here.” She reaches her free hand over to gently stroke his hair. It feels nice. “Thank goodness. How do you feel?”

He closes his eyes. “I hurt.”

“Well, I should hope so! I’d be worried if you weren’t in a lot of pain right now. Do you remember what happened?”

Although he tries to move around, it’s difficult simply because it’s so painful. “Uh, yeah, kind of… I got… hit by a car, right? ― H… hey… Karamatsu and Totty… where are they? Are they okay?”

“Yes, dear, they’re both fine. Karamatsu has a couple of scrapes, but nothing serious. You, on the other hand, are lucky, young man. You’ve got a broken leg, a couple of broken ribs, and a broken wrist. You did have a dislocated shoulder, but they got that back into place. The doctor said it could have been much worse. She said you got off easy compared to some people who get hit by a car.”

She combs his bangs back in a way that mitigates any anger or frustration in her next words. “What were you thinking?”

“The car was coming for Karamatsu…” He frowns as the memory surfaces again, in slightly better detail. Damn. “… And Totty didn’t see it… he was gonna step out, too…”

Everything seemed to happen so fast. How the hell did he manage to get his older brother out of the way and keep his younger brother out of the way when everything happened so fast?

Matsuyo sighs and continues stroking his hair. “Oh, I know… they were both in tears when we all arrived. Totty was inconsolable… saying that Karamatsu would be dead if you hadn’t run forward and that he thought you were dead because you weren’t responding. I should be mad that you scared your brothers… but…”

She leans forward to kiss his forehead. “… You did a brave thing, Ichimatsu. Mama is very proud of you. I just don’t like any of you boys hurt… if you’re inclined to do this again, pull the other person back instead of taking their place. You silly boy,” she adds with an affectionate smile.

“Hah…” he laughs weakly, wincing at the pain in his chest. “Sorry, Mom. Everything hurts… I wanna go home.”

“Mhm, they’ll probably let you go pretty soon now that you’re awake. That’s the main thing they were waiting for, I think.” She moves her hand down to pat lightly at his forearm.

“Don’t worry. You’ll be home before you know it, and your family will take good care of you.”

Coming home is kind of weird.

Ichimatsu can’t really walk on his own. Since his leg is broken, the doctor gave him a crutch that he can use with his good hand, but it’s an awkward movement and leaves him feeling unbalanced. It’s just easier to lean on one of his brothers to walk ― in this case, Choromatsu has volunteered to help if Ichimatsu needs to walk somewhere. Though… he gets the feeling that the others would be more than happy to volunteer if the third eldest were somehow busy when he needs to get up.

Every motion, from sitting up to reaching for things to just breathing, is painful thanks to the broken ribs. There’s nothing that can really be done for those, so he’s evidently got to just suffer. He remembers the doctor saying they should feel quite a bit better in a couple of weeks. Most of this is going to take a month or more to fully heal, which is… according to Osomatsu, a ‘major boner-killer’.

Sitting around doing nothing but being in pain is going to be the end of Ichimatsu. He’s sure of that. He can’t go outside to feed the cats, and it’s difficult to cuddle with them inside with all his injuries. That alone is pretty depressing.

The pain medication they sent him home with is also a little frustrating. The first time he takes it, it makes him so tired he sleeps right through dinner.

He falls asleep on the couch in the spare room, he knows, because it’s where he has to be set up for now. There’s noway he can sleep in the futon with everyone else while he tries to heal; that runs the risk of running into someone, or having one of his brothers accidentally run into him.

His leg’s in a cast and his wrist is in a splint, to protect them as they fix themselves, but if those areas have someone roll onto them, it’ll probably result in more damage. Which means more pain and more time added to his recovery.

It’s apparently a bad idea to sleep on the couch. When he wakes up, everything is sore and screaming in pain. Justified, unfortunately, since he fell asleep in the same position he was relaxing in.

Someone else… is here? There’s something warm pressed up against his side.

He glances over to find that he’s evidently been resting on Karamatsu’s shoulder, likely for a while given that Karamatsu’s eyes are closed too. It looks dark out, and Ichimatsu’s foggy mind busies itself wondering what time it is.

There’s a soft chuckle beside him, and looking over reveals one of his big brother’s eyes is cracked open now. It’s swiftly followed by the other one, then the sudden absence of a pressure around his shoulder makes him aware that Karamatsu had an arm around him. “Awake, hm?”

“Yeah…” He tries to stretch, stopped short when a jolting pain in his chest reminds him that it’s definitely a bad idea. “Oww. I don’t even remember falling asleep.”

“That’s alright. You started to get a bit drowsy about half an hour after Osomatsu-nii-san gave you your medicine. We saved you a plate from dinner, though, if you want me to go warm it up.”

Ichimatsu blinks. “I slept through dinner?? Shit. How late is it right now?”

His brother shifts a bit more to take out his phone. “Hm… a bit after midnight.”

“Midnight?” Well, fuck. Although he can justify an hour nap or so, he’s just slept like six hours. He missed dinner, he missed going to the bathhouse, he missed maybe a game of cards before bed.

Karamatsu laughs again, his hand tousling Ichimatsu’s hair fondly. “That’s right, my brother. Don’t worry. Osomatsu-nii-san said fatigue is a side effect of your medicine, and your body needs sleep right now, anyway. So, are you hungry? Mommy made soba and yakitori for dinner, but if you’d rather have something else, just say the word. Your wish is my command!”

Honestly… he’s not really that hungry. He knows he should probably eat; his stomach is just trying to tell him not to have anything heavy. Another side effect of the medication, maybe. “Are you… sure? I kind of just feel like plain miso and rice. Other stuff doesn’t sound good.”

“Of course! I’d be delighted to go heat some up. You simply rest and I’ll…” When he goes to stand up, something catches Ichimatsu’s eye, and he grabs his brother’s hand, weakly, with his own injured one. It’s painful, but…

Karamatsu’s eyes focus on his younger brother, brows furrowing. “Ichimatsu? What’s the matter?”

It’s… that cut on Karamatsu’s face. Ichimatsu didn’t notice it before. Now that he’s a bit more alert, it’s practically all he can see. It’s not very big, maybe the length of one of their little fingers, and not deep. It looks like a scrape from falling off one’s bike or something. He thinks maybe it had a bandage on it at one point. The color has faded into something dull; the skin around is still bright pink, though, suggesting that it’s irritated despite not being cut.

His gaze shifts down to find similar wounds on Karamatsu’s hands. On the palms, where he probably got a sort of road rash when he tried to catch himself after Ichimatsu pushed him out of the way.

His own wrist protests with a violent throb as he reaches to let his fingers graze lightly over Karamatsu’s wrist. Image after image of what might have happened to him if Ichimatsu wasn’t fast enough comes unbidden into his head. Karamatsu could be the one with a broken leg or broken ribs, or it could have been worse.

“Y… you’re okay… right?” As soon as those words are out of his mouth, tears start spilling. All at once he’s pulled into a hug, loose fists resting against his back. He can’t stop himself from leaning in, pressing his face against Karamatsu’s shoulder.

He can feel the soft rumble of mirthless laughter his big brother gives. “You’re the one who was hurt, Ichimatsu. I’m only okay because of you. If you hadn’t seen… I wasn’t paying attention…”

The words, “It should have been me”, hang heavily in the air even though Karamatsu doesn’t say them.

He brushes a delicate kiss over the side of his little brother’s forehead. “Heh… you would have been a better big brother than me. You kept us all safe when I failed. You probably saved my life, you know. Thank you.”

Ichimatsu isn’t sure why it’s now that the full weight of everything has hit him. Now, when he’s home and out of danger, when everything is okay. Shouldn’t he have been falling apart when he first woke up in the hospital? It shouldn’t have taken seeing Karamatsu’s small injuries to remind him that they all could have died when he’s the one in a cast.

It’s hard to keep himself together, to keep his breathing normal so he doesn’t completely go to pieces. (Though, if he did, what better place to do so than in his older brother’s arms?) “… You’d do the same for me, right? So it’s only fair.”

“I would,” Karamatsu hums. “Without a second thought. You’re my little brother and I love you very much and if I could save you from being hurt, I would. I’m… sorry I was so careless that I couldn’t do it this time.”

Ichimatsu grunts, slipping his good arm around Karamatsu’s waist in an effort to be closer. “Don’t feel too bad. The next car’ll be yours.”

After eating as much as he feels like he can, Ichimatsu allows Karamatsu to help transfer him to the floor. It’s already set up with a spare futon, a blanket, and a pillow, probably because someone guessed that sleeping on the sofa wouldn’t be comfortable.

He’s still in so much pain. The shoulder that was reduced back into place aches like an old war wound, and his chest is sore even when he’s lying still. To say nothing of his wrist and his leg. His whole body feels like one giant bruise, except worse.

Although Karamatsu insists he’d be just fine to stand guard all night, after a few minutes Choromatsu comes in and sends him back to the bedroom. Ichimatsu doesn’t hear too much of the conversation ― mostly whispers that Karamatsu needs to go get some sleep, that Choromatsu is glad to take a turn.

Soon enough, though, Karamatsu relents and comes to tell Ichimatsu goodnight before he leaves the room. Ichimatsu gets one more kiss on the head and a reassuring squeeze to his good hand and exchanges another round of “I love you”s with his brother, then heads into the bedroom.

Choromatsu came prepared, setting his own pillow up on the couch and tossing a blanket at the end just in case he needs it. “So… how are you feeling, Ichimatsu?”

“Mm… like crap, kinda.” He looks over to where his brother is trying to get settled in. “I can’t believe I slept six hours and I’m still tired. What kind of shit did they put me on?”

“Hah… y-yeah, it’s the good stuff, probably. Is it at least helping the pain a little?”

“A little. Like Mom said before we left the hospital, I… guess it’d be more worrying if I wasn’t in pain right now. I did get hit by a car.”

Choromatsu leans forward and places a cautious hand on his little brother’s head. Once that earns him no punishment, he gingerly combs through Ichimatsu’s hair. It certainly feels relaxing. “You sure did. I… I can’t believe you kept both Karamatsu and Totty safe. Adrenaline’s a… a weird thing, huh? I’m glad you’re all okay. Hopefully the pain medicine will work better once you’ve had a few doses.”

“Mh. I hope so.”

“Yeah. For now, just, uh… just try to get some more sleep, okay? Your body needs a lot of rest while you’re healing.”

Yep, that’s what Karamatsu said, too. Two of his brothers saying the same thing can’t be wrong. … Well, they could be, but it would be weird. “I’ll try. Thanks for… being here. I dunno that I’d really want to sleep alone for the whole night. Guess Totty’s rubbing off on me.”

A low chuckle leaves Choromatsu as Ichimatsu closes his eyes. The sound of rustling suggests that his older brother has laid down and pulled a blanket over himself as well.

After a moment of quiet between them, Ichimatsu becomes keenly aware of a sensation that definitely isn’t going to allow him to sleep. “Uuuugh. Shit.”

“Huh?” Choromatsu is sitting up in an instant, ready to practically spring out of his skin. “What’s wrong, Ichimatsu?”

“― My leg itches.”

“O-oh. So… scratch it??”

He throws his head back in frustration. “No, the one with the Goddamn cast on it.”

“Ohhh. Okay, uh, well…” Choromatsu gets up and rummages through one of the drawers for a few seconds.

After that, a pencil is pressed into Ichimatsu’s good hand with a smile. “Here, try this. Stick the eraser end down in the little space between your leg and the cast, then keep moving it. If the itch is high enough up, it should help.”

Ichimatsu raises an eyebrow at the advice. Well. What’s he got to lose, after all? He spends a moment trying to get the itch scratched after slipping the pencil down, and finally he sighs in relief. “Fuck, that’s a lot better. How’d you know that was gonna work?”

Choromatsu grins self-consciously, rubbing at the back of his neck. “Ah, well… remember when I broke my arm? When I went for my checkup, I had this itch inside the cast that was driving me nuts. So the nurse showed me this trick. It doesn’t always work, but…”

“Huh… well… thanks.” After everything, he’s just really tired and ready to sleep now. He would cross his fingers that nothing else disturbs him if he felt like moving at all.

“Heh, no problem. All good now?”

“I think so.” When he sees his brother straighten up to head back to the couch, his brain evidently thinks it’s good to say something. “H… hey. Choromatsu?”

Choromatsu looks back down, concern etched on his features. “Ah, yeah? What’s up?”

His heart is hammering so fast it feels like it’s trying to break more of his ribs. He doesn’t really want to embarrass himself. It’s just… he feels… “Can you… can you… stay for a minute? Down here?”

“Oh… yeah, sure. I can’t stay too long… I-I can’t sleep next to you. I might accidentally hurt you.” Even so, he lowers himself back down, sitting cross-legged and reaching to stroke Ichimatsu’s hair.

He nods. That’s part of the problem. Even though he normally wouldn’t have much complaint about being left to his own devices… he’s used to sleeping next to his brothers. Right on the end beside Karamatsu. When he’s not feeling well, being absent from them is apparently not doing him any favors. “I know. It’s just…”

His eyes drift closed once more. It must be the medicine making him feel out of it and way too honest. “… I think I’m gonna get lonely sleeping like this.”

“O-oh… gosh.” He can practically hear the frown in Choromatsu’s voice. The other man’s hand combs through his hair, a rhythmic and repetitive motion that makes him sleepy again. “I can probably… sleep like this, propped up against the couch. Is that okay?”

“Mmmh… I don’t want you to have to do that… you’ll make your back sore.”

He chuckles. “Ah, I-I think I can handle it. Even if that’s true, it’d be worth it to me so you don’t have to feel lonely. It’s the least I can do for my little brother.”

“I can’t stop you,” Ichimatsu mumbles. Sleep is scrabbling its tiny, strong fingers at him, trying to pull him down. It’s getting hard to resist. “If you want…”

“Yeah… yeah, I wanna do this for you.” Choromatsu leans down to press a small kiss to the top of Ichimatsu’s head. “Hey. Love you, Ichimacchan. Try to get some rest, okay?”

He doesn’t have to tell Ichimatsu twice. Within a minute of Choromatsu’s urging, he’s fallen back into a peaceful darkness.

When Ichimatsu wakes up the next morning, Choromatsu’s presence has been replaced by Jyushimatsu’s.

As much as he loves his immediate older brother, he doesn’t have any complaints. He and Jyushimatsu are very close, and his younger brother being here is pretty soothing to wake up to.

He’s uncharacteristically quiet, though that’s not to say he isn’t his usual energetic self. He appears to be flipping through baseball cards, maybe organizing them in his little album, humming to himself. There’s also one hand free to play with Ichimatsu’s hair, which he supposes is why he still feels relaxed.

“Hey, Jyushi.” His body reminds him why stretching is a bad idea right now, so he settles for arching his back a little in an effort to make something pop. Everything is sore. Even that little bit of movement hurts his ribs enough that he has trouble catching his breath for a minute. “Fuck… morning.”

“Oh! Yeah, it is morning!” Jyushimatsu is chipper as always, though when he leans in for a hug, he’s surprisingly gentle. “How’d you sleep, Ichimatsu-nii-san?”

“Okay, I guess. I still hurt a bunch.”

“Yeahhhh, you were crying in your sleep! But it’s okay! Because guess what? Jyushi is here!” He grins, nuzzling his cheek against Ichimatsu’s. It’s a bit weird, but par for the course as far as Jyushimatsu is concerned. Besides, the hug is nice after the fear of being lonely last night. “Did you have nightmares, huh?”

Now that he mentions it… yep. Ichimatsu’s dreams, or what he remembers of them, were filled with horrible things. The memory of being hit by the car, or the images of either Karamatsu or Totty being hit because he wasn’t fast enough.

He recalls one piece of a dream which involved looking into his own chest and seeing the end of a fractured rib shatter his glass heart.

A shudder runs through his body, prompting Jyushimatsu to tighten his grip just slightly. “Oh, you’re cold! It’s past breakfast, ‘cause you slept for a really long time, but I’ll go get you some tea!! Sound good?”

Given that his appetite hasn’t come back from war, that sounds better than anything else. Though he did manage to choke down that rice and miso last night, he’s not sure if he wants to eat even anything bland. “Yeah, sounds good. Put just a little bit of agave syrup in it for me?”

“Yeah! Anything for Ichimatsu-nii-san! Be right back, okay?”

With Jyushimatsu, ‘be right back’ is typically how it goes. He’s only gone for a few minutes, or at least it only seems like a few minutes.

Regardless, Ichimatsu has a cup of tea in his hand relatively quickly. Almost as if his brother predicted that it would be difficult to hold something very hot with only one hand, the tea is warm, not boiling hot.

It’s easier to balance it with one hand, plus this means it’s pretty much the perfect temperature to drink. As he starts to sip it, he feels Jyushimatsu’s hand, covered entirely by his sleeve, rubbing affectionately between his shoulder blades. “It’s good, huh?”

He swallows and gives the other a nod. “Yeah, pretty good. Thanks.” Thankfully, it should wake him up, too. He’s still feeling kind of groggy.

“Good!! Osomatsu-nii-san said he’s gonna give you your medicine in a minute, since I told him you were up and hurting.” Jyushimatsu shoves his binder of cards away, shifting up to sit on the sofa. “Do you want me to move you up here after you’re done drinking?”

“Probably, yeah. You got anything you wanna do today?” Another sip, and he sighs in relief feeling the warmth flow through him. Damn.He can’t believe he could take something as simple as a cup of tea in the morning for granted. “I can’t really help with baseball practice… but we could watch TV together or something.”

“Sure! We can watch whatever you want!” After only a few seconds, Jyushimatsu wiggles himself back down and leans against his big brother’s shoulder. “Hey, Ichimatsu-nii-san… I’m really glad you’re okay. Even though you’re hurt and everything, you’re home with us instead of… being not home with us!”

The least he can do is let his head rest gently against Jyushimatsu’s. “Yeah… I’m glad I’m home, too. Don’t think I’d rather be anywhere else.”

Jyushimatsu nods eagerly, making a brief, dull wave of pain wash through Ichimatsu. However, he’d rather have that pain than not have his little brother close. “We’ll take really good care of you! Just say if you need anything, okay? I’m really strong and I can get anything! … And if I can’t, Osomatsu-nii-san probably can!”

“Heh.” Ichimatsu takes another gulp of his tea. “You guys are the best.”

True to Jyushimatsu’s word, Osomatsu is in pretty soon to give Ichimatsu the painkillers. For whatever reason, even when he can’t be trusted with literally anything else, the eldest is pretty good at monitoring medicine when one of the others needs it.

All things being equal, Ichimatsu has a lot of faith in taking medicine when Osomatsu keeps track of it. He knows how much was dispensed, how many Ichimatsu is supposed to take and how often, how many are left, and all the related things. He’s like some kind of idiot savant who was put on Earth to be a pill counter.

After he takes it, he expects to start getting tired again, so he silently begs Osomatsu to stay on the couch with him. They’re all supposed to be hanging out anyway, based on what Jyushimatsu said, so right now he decides he wants to be close to his oldest brother for a little bit.

Osomatsu seems all too happy to oblige, snuggling Ichimatsu as close as he dares to. It’s probably not a good idea to use normal force, so the touches are… lighter than usual. It’s not so bad.

He settles in on Osomatsu’s shoulder, trying to get his eyes to focus on the show Jyushimatsu turned it to for him. It’s kind of unfortunate that he’s almost certainly going to fall asleep on it. “You guys are taking really good care of me,” he sighs, letting his eyes slip closed. “You want my allowance? Or, like… a bag of sardines?”

Osomatsu snorts. “What? You’re nuts, man. We’re taking care of you because we want to and because you need it. I mean, if I was sitting here with a broken leg, a broken wrist, broken ribs, and had to have my shoulder cherry popped back into place, wouldn’t you all be like, ‘Wow, maybe we should give the poor bastard a hand’? We’re just doing the same thing for you that we’d do for any one of us.”

Ichimatsu huffs. “Yeah, well… you’re all doing a lot. Karamatsu went in the kitchen past midnight to make me miso and rice, Choromatsu probably fucked up his back sleeping against the couch so I wouldn’t be lonely, Jyushi’s waiting on me, and you’ve got my medicine on a damn schedule or something.”

“Yeah, well,” Osomatsu grins, “I can’t leave it up to you, crackhead.”

He can’t help but chuckle at that. Even so, it’s not going to make him totally drop this. “I’m serious. You guys are…”

Osomatsu nudges him carefully. “We’re being brothers, you boner. I know we suck at showing it sometimes, but… you know we all love each other, right? I guess it’s easier to show it when one of us is sick or hurt. Just so happens you’re the hurt one right now. And also your ass is on painkillers, so everything seems weird to you.”

… Okay, so maybe he can’t fault that logic. Still, though.

They’re both quiet for a long moment while they watch the screen, then Osomatsu lets out a soft hum. “You did good, you know. I don’t like that you tried to get yourself killed, but you did good.”

“I wasn’t trying to get myself killed,” Ichimatsu retorts with the nastiest facial expression he can muster right now. “I didn’t wanna get hit, either. But Karamatsu and Totty weren’t paying attention… I didn’t want them to get hit. I was trying to get us all out of that way… I just wasn’t fast enough.”

Osomatsu scoffs before reaching his hand up to ruffle Ichimatsu’s hair. He appears to be getting a lot of pets like that lately, not that he’s complaining. It feels really good and is one of the biggest comforts he has right now. “You protected them, anyway. I can’t say too much, because you didn’t do anything I wouldn’t have done if it were me.”

Ichimatsu offers a low, mocking wail. “Oh, shit. I’m turning into you. I think I’d rather be a cat. If I were a really bratty cat, you’d still be nice enough to feed me sardines and scratch behind my ears, right?”

“Uhhhh, I guess. You’re changing the subject, you dick.” A small puff of laughter makes his bangs move. “I just… wanna say I really respect you, man. Sometimes I remember the days when you would kick Karamatsu in the leg just for breathing the wrong way. And when you used to blow Totty off to hang with your friends in high school.”

He gets a shrug in response. “People change. We’ve all changed a lot.”

“Yeah, sure. I know.” His arm shifts down and he squeezes Ichimatsu’s good hand in that reassuring, proud way only an older sibling can. “They haven’t all been good changes. But seeing you trying to keep the others safe… that’s a a good change. Just gotta give you your props, Ichimacchan.”

He’s too tired to really argue with Osomatsu. Despite the fact that he knows he’s the shittiest of them all, he has to at least silently acknowledge that what he did prevented one of his older brothers and his baby brother from being in the same pain he’s in right now.

Instead of saying anything meaningful, he just presses himself in more against Osomatsu and mutters, “That’s nice. I’m tired.”

Osomatsu snorts and Ichimatsu feels a light kiss on top of his head. “Alright, dumbass, get some sleep. The pills are probably kicking in. Let me know if you need anything.”

Ichimatsu thinks that, right now, all he needs is his big brother to be the perfect pillow, and he’s doing a pretty good job of that.

Although it’s not dark at all the next time Ichimatsu wakes up, it’s significantly later than he meant to sleep. 3 P.M., meaning that once again he’s slept through a meal ― lunch, this time.

Just like last night, he finds that he’s not really all that hungry. Even so, it might be a good idea to eat, so probably he ask Osomatsu to get him something small.

When he shifts and looks over, though, Osomatsu isn’t there anymore. Instead, there’s Totty…

… Oh.

He’s holding onto Ichimatsu pretty tight. Ichimatsu isn’t sure he can move too much with the way Totty is holding him.

“Hey,” he says softly. “Totty? Everything okay?”

His little brother stiffens, wide eyes suddenly turning up to look at him. Unlike what he noticed about Karamatsu, Totty doesn’t have any physical injuries, but… the skin around his eyes is red and puffy. “Y… yeah, it’s all good. Sorry, am I hurting you?”

“No… not really hurting.” He doesn’t remember having seen Totty too much after everything happened. He visited Ichimatsu in the hospital, all teary-eyed and not talking, before they were all allowed to take him home. Once he got home, though, he can’t recall Totty being around a lot even though everyone else was.

He assumed Totty was freaked out after everything and avoiding him just because he’s emotional right now. Seems Ichimatsu was right about that.

He maneuvers his good arm to put it around Totty’s shoulders, pulling him in closer. “Have you been crying? You sure you’re okay?”

Totty sniffles and dips his head down. “Yeah, sorry… I just…”

“Don’t be sorry, dumbass.” Even though it hurts a little to move so much, Ichimatsu cuddles his brother in against him. “It’s fine, you big crybaby. I just wanna make sure you’re okay.”

“I should be the one making sure you’re okay.” Regardless, Totty nestles in, tucking his head under Ichimatsu’s chin. It’s a bit of a weight on his hurt ribs, but it’s not that bad. “… H-hey. I, um. You know. I… I love you.”

Huh. It’s been a while since Totty has said that point-blank to any of his brothers, Ichimatsu thinks. It’s kind of nice to hear. He closes his eyes and offers an appreciative hum. “I love you, too. That it?”

Totty lets out a frustrated sigh, and Ichimatsu can just imagine the pout he has on his face. Kinda cute. He can’t really help himself; the youngest is always gonna be the baby, always gonna be adorable, even when he’s acting like a little bitch or if he wants to deny it. “I wanted to… say I’m sorry.”

“For…?”

“For… everything! Y-you know, for almost getting hit and… I mean, you got hurt trying to protect me and Karamatsu! If I hadn’t tried to follow him without even looking… you wouldn’t have had to worry about me. And… and I haven’t been with you too much since you got home…”

He nuzzles his head against Ichimatsu’s collarbone, kneading his hand against the top of his brother’s good leg. “I’m sorry about that. It’s just… I’ve been… really upset. It was scary, seeing the car hit you…”

The hum Ichimatsu gives this time is lower, pensive and understanding. “Yeah. Mom said you were crying a lot when she got to the hospital. ‘S okay to be kinda freaked out, you know.”

“Yeah, I know… and I was… am.I was scared the whole time… Karamatsu tried to wake you up, but you were just lying there and you wouldn’t…” Totty sniffles and his hand curls into a weak fist against Ichimatsu’s knee. “I didn’t wanna lose you, Ichimatsu-nii-san, and I was really afraid you were gone. I’m happy you’re okay… I just… I-I was pretty sure I was gonna cry the first time I tried to take care of you, so I… wanted to be alone with you. Crying in front of all you guys is…”

Ichimatsu nods to quiet his brother, ghosting a kiss over the top of Totty’s head. “I get it. It’s okay, Totty. C’mere, okay… you don’t have to be sorry for being freaked out and not wanting to cry and all that shit. I’m sure Karamatsu’s freaked out, too. And everyone else. Don’t apologize for your feelings, stupid.”

An indignant huff is the response he gets, before Totty presses in against Ichimatsu’s uninjured shoulder. “It just makes me think a lot,” he finally confesses.

Ichimatsu smirks. “Right. And you’re so out of practice with thinking, it’s hard. I know.”

“Th-that’s not it, you jerk!” Totty whines and brings his arms in, curled against his chest. His knees come up onto the couch, folded under him, as he tries to get comfortable. “It makes me think… anything could happen, at any moment, and that… might be it.And I know we’re all shitty to each other a lot of the time, but… but I love all of you.”

He sniffles, snuggling against Ichimatsu when his big brother pulls him even closer. “The thought that one of us might… die… I-I didn’t… I didn’t know how afraid I was of that… till I thought it happened. If one of us wasn’t here… it… it wouldn’t be the same anymore.”

“… Yeah.” Ichimatsu gives Totty a squeeze that’s maybe a little tighter than necessary. It’s not like he can pretend that Totty is wrong. He’s right. Even though they’re all assholes and treat each other like crap sometimes, the last thing any of them want is for their family to be… incomplete.

They sit quietly for what feels like a long time, holding each other. Breathing. Just existing in sync, in perfect understanding for a while.

Sometimes, it’s true, Ichimatsu is kind of a death seeker. Sometimes he really does want to die. Sometimes he doesn’t care about anything, and just wants it all to end so he doesn’t have to deal with the weight of life anymore.

Sometimes, though… sometimes he fights death with all he has. He thinks maybe that’s what happened after he got hit by the car.

It would have been easy to die then. To just let his injuries swallow him up and put out his life like blowing out a candle.

He’s in a lot of pain right now, but he’s not dead. There must be a reason, right?

He thinks this is the reason.

Holding his youngest brother and realizing how broken his absence would leave his family, thinking about how broken it would be if anyof them were gone, how much they love each other…

… For once, he’s happy to be alive.

#Osomatsu san #whump #Ichimatsu #Allmatsu #Iromatsu #Nenchuumatsu #Suujimatsu #Parkamatsu #110matsu #car accident #broken bones #medication #caretaking #HEY LOOK AT THESE AWESOME BROTHERS BEING AWESOME #SORRY THIS GOT SO LONG BUT I COULDN'T HELP MYSELF.........#PLS ENJOY THE FOOD <3

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singtheskyandfightlikehell · 3 years

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BatFamily Headcanons: Stuffed Animals

In an attempt to productively combat my recent writer’s block, I’m practicing writing the batfam characters through short character study fics (which I will post once I make enough) and comparative headcanons. I might end up making short fics out of these, as well, since some of them got a bit long anyways

Today I decided to explore how many stuffed animals each member of the batfam (plus an adjacent character or two) has, what they think of them, how they got them, etc. I’ve got eleven characters on this list (and I’m still missing some, sorry)

Bruce:

Bruce put aside stuffed animals when he was eleven, deciding it was time to become serious. However, since acquiring children, he has been gifted a number of stuffed animals, ranging from a small and realistic brown bat to a child-sized bear wearing his cape and cowl. None of the children know this, but he keeps them all in a prominent position in his walk-in closet. Sometimes, when he has a particularly nasty fight with one of his kids, or he discovers something (like an injury) that they were hiding from him, he’ll tell the stuffed animals all the things he struggles to tell his children in the hopes that, one day, he’ll figure out how to express himself when it actually counts.

Alfred:

Alfred has no stuffed animals of his own, but he keeps the old, worn teddy bear that was once Thomas’ and later Bruce’s, alongside the somewhat lopsided bunny that Martha attempted to sew for Bruce when he was two. They sit side by side in a spotless glass cabinet filled with other memories that various members of the family have at one point or another attempted to cast aside.

Dick:

Dick has a pair of stuffed elephants, Eleonore and Zitka, and a teddy bear of his own, all from the circus. Most of the time they sit on the shelf under one of his nightstands, but when he has a particularly bad day, he’ll hold them all tightly until he falls asleep. If he’s crying, he finds it slows the tears to press kisses to the tops of their heads, or just smoosh his whole face into them. Sometimes, if he’s having a particularly good day – especially if no one else is sharing in his good mood – he’ll tell them about whatever made him happy. The rarest occasions are a bittersweet combination of both, the moments when he dwells on his happiest memories of his parents. When this happens, he is more likely to address them than his family, talking to them like old friends who were “there” for the things he’s recalling. It reminds him of the parties he would host as a small child, attended by his stuffed animals and his parents and sometimes other people from the giant family that was Haly’s, and for just that moment he’ll feel suspended somewhere between grief and content.

Barbara:

Barbara had lots of stuffed animals growing up, but as she got older, she gave most of them away. The only one she kept was a little otter that her father gave her for her first birthday. She doesn’t remember this, of course, but they have an old home video of that day which she’s seen a few times, and she know it’s one of her dad’s favorites to watch when he’s feeling nostalgic. She does remember the way she used to drag the otter with her everywhere she went when she was about four, and it’s so worn now that all of its original fluffiness has disappeared. She sets it up near her main computer and uses it in place of a rubber duck.

Jim:

When Babs decided she was too old for her stuffed animals, Jim was instructed to give them away at one of the Gotham children’s toy drives he helps run as commissioner. Only about half of them ever make it out of the house, because he keeps looking at them and remembering little moments that involve each of them. He has two boxes full of them that he swears he’s going to bring to the next drive, but he’s been swearing that for over ten years now.

Jason:

When Jason first arrived at the manor, he swore up and down that stuffed animals were dumb kids toys that he was way too old for. The first time Dick showed up at the manor after Jason was there, he brought a plush dog he’d picked up on the way there, unsure what to get his surprise new brother but not putting an excess of thought into it either. After all, he wasn’t about to ask Bruce what Jason might like. Jason made a show of scorn and tossing the toy in the trash, but when Dick was gone he dug it back out. When he was sleeping, he clutched the dog protectively against his chest like it might be snatched away at any time. When he wasn’t sleeping, he kept it hidden in a box wedged under a floorboard beneath the bed, alongside his other contraband. It was there when he died and it’s still there now. Every time he’s in the manor, he thinks about sneaking into his old room to retrieve it, alongside some of his other old belongings, but he never does. His reasoning alternates between not caring, being too old for toys, not wanting to set foot in his old room, and not wanting to get caught caring after all these years.

He does however have an obnoxiously long bright red snake that Roy won at some sort of archery carnival game while they were supposed to be tracking a suspect. He’d griped at Roy for wasting time with frivolous games, a complaint that was very on brand for their relationship. He’s pretty sure Roy saw through him, though, and understood the real reason he was so antsy to leave the carnival, given his soft apology later that night. He also recently acquired a floppy stingray, a gift from Lian for his latest birthday. She told him that she’d gotten to pet a stingray at the aquarium where she’d bought it, and it reminded her of him. Specifically, she’d said he was, “Kinda dangerous and maybe a little scary, but actually really soft to anyone who’s nice enough”. He wasn’t sure how he felt about that description, but the gift had a place of pride, resting atop an old model of his helmet that Roy had “defaced” with a sweet message that always made Jason smile.

Cass:

Cass grew up without stuffed animals, and was honestly a little confused at first about why she might want one. The first one she ever got was a tiny key-chain cat that was given to her by a little girl she saved. She was unsure what to make of the object itself, but she treasured it as a symbol, proof that she was doing good in the world. It was Steph who convinced her to look for more, to look for stuffed animals in her “style”. Eventually, she got two of the most different ones she could find: an iridescent octopus packed tightly with beans and made of a coarse fabric, and a large fluffy goose that squished like a cloud and was made of the softest fabric imaginable. She likes tossing the octopus lightly in the air to feel the weight of it, and faceplanting into the giant goose. She also has a big bear holding a plush heart that Steph got her for their first Valentine’s.

Tim:

Tim’s relationship with stuffed animals is a bit more complicated. He had five growing up: a dog, a bear, a lion, a rabbit, and a lamb. They had names, stories, personalities, and they were his friends (his only friends, at the time). When he was seven, he woke up one day to find them gone. His mother scolded him for his tears, explaining that he was too old for baby toys, and that his attachment to them would only hinder his path forward. For years, he felt ashamed whenever he thought of his grief towards them, because he knew they were just toys, he knew he was being a baby about it, and yet…

It wasn’t until he was fifteen years old and stumbled across an article about autistic people and the projection of feelings onto objects that he understood why he had been willing to sneak out at night to search through pawn store after pawn store and – once – the landfill in the hopes of seeing his beloved toys again. As a teen in the Wayne household, he knew he could get as many stuffed animals as he liked, but he couldn’t bring himself to do so after what had happened before. He got one giant, floppy moose, barely half a foot shorter than himself, that he clings to like an octopus when he manages to lay down, whether he succeeds in falling asleep or not. Additionally, on a night after Jason made amends with the family, Tim returned to his room to find a fifteen inch plush latte with a cute little face on the mug portion and a sticky note on top that simply read: Sorry for trying to kill you a bunch. My bad :) He keeps it on top of his dresser, and while he doesn’t really hug it, he did discover it was the perfect object for chucking at his siblings’ heads whenever the situation calls for it.

Steph:

Steph loves stuffed animals. While she never got any of the fancy brand name ones, or the luxuriously soft ones, or the hyper-realistic ones, her mom had a tradition of buying her one for every birthday, Christmas, and Easter. She soon had quite a collection, and – like Tim – she gave them all names and personalities. She played out complex scenarios with them and the few dolls she had, designing an intricate world of wild concepts and plots. She also used her stuffed animals to conquer her fears, like thunderstorms and darkness, by pretending they were all more scared than she was, so she had to be brave for all of them. Steph still has her whole collection, as well as quite a few “nicer” (though equally loved) ones that she has acquired from various Waynes. At this point, pretty much everyone in the Wayne family has given her a stuffed animal at some time or other. For a couple of years now, she has taken to posing with her massive collection and making fake family Christmas cards to send out to everyone she knows, where she will update them on the well-being of any plushie they’ve given her.

Duke:

Duke also has a great love of stuffed animals, although he doesn’t match Steph for quantity. He only had a few beloved animals growing up, all of which he’s held onto (a panda, a penguin, a turtle, a frog, a leopard, and a pikachu). Since being fostered by Bruce, Duke has taken to searching out and buying only the rarest stuffed animals he can find: an anteater, a platypus, a manatee, a sloth, and an axolotl have made the cut so far. Bruce knows about this and has taken to keeping an eye out for anything interesting whenever he’s out. After accidentally mentioning it at a gala one time, it has since become his favorite topic, as getting drawn into an intense discussion with Bruce Wayne about where to acquire strange plushies for his son elicits one of two reactions from his guests: delighted awws or hilariously awkward attempts to steer the conversation back to high society definitions of business and pleasure. At Duke’s request, a large shelf was built around the top of his room, so that all of his stuffed animals can sit comfortably and be clearly seen.

Damian:

Damian was much like Jason when he arrived at the manor in more ways than one, but his determination to prove himself above stuffed animals was certainly on that list. He sneered at his siblings’ attempts to treat him like the child he swore he wasn’t. And honestly, even after he began to lower his walls just a little, he still wasn’t particularly fond of stuffed animals. Sure, he privately thought they were cute, and sure he might (might) find himself holding one at night if it happened to have been left in his bed by an annoying sibling, but in general he preferred live animals to fake ones. Real animals had personalities and feelings, fake ones did not, it was as simple as that, no matter what Stephanie claimed. But as time went on, Damian found himself acquiring a small army of stuffed animals against his will. Some of his siblings (Jason, Tim, sometimes Duke) gave them to him because they found it funny to watch him growl about how he was not an infant in need of deceitful comforts. Some of his siblings (Dick, Cass, sometimes Duke… sometimes his father as well) would give them to him because they knew he liked animals so they assumed he’d like imitations of animals as well. Steph would just give them to everybody, every now and then. But regardless of motive, Damian soon found his room overflowing with stuffed animals that were moderately cute but ultimately pointless.

It wasn’t until a patrol a few years after he’d taken on the mantle of Robin that he discovered a solution. Tim had hidden a tiny stuffed bear in the medical supply compartment of his utility belt, a felt bandage wrapped around its little head. He hadn’t been wounded, but the young girl he’d rescued had been bleeding from a wound that looked worryingly dirty. The bear had fallen out of the pouch, right into her lap, and she’d stared at it with wide eyes, surprise halting the flow of her tears. She’d held onto it the whole time he disinfected her arm and bandaged it, and afterwards he had insisted she keep it. For the first time that night, she’d smiled. After that, Damian began taking a few of his many stuffed animals out on patrol with him, ready to hand out to any and all injured, lost, or otherwise traumatized children once he’d rescued them from their troubles. Eventually he began running out of toys he’d been gifted, even though he kept getting new ones, so at some point he begins to regularly sneak out for the sole purpose of acquiring stuffed animals to hand out. He never tells his siblings, but he suspects they’ve found out anyway, when the presents they give him drastically decrease in size.

#batfamily #dick grayson #jason todd #tim drake #damian wayne #duke thomas #cassandra cain #stephanie brown #barbara gordon #jim gordon #bruce wayne #alfred pennyworth #jayroy #stephcass #my headcanons #i stole elements of the hc for dick tim steph and duke from my own personality lmao #also the only portion of this that draws on canon (to my knowledge) is the stuff about dick #i've seen stuff about him having a stuffed elephant with both of those names so i decided to just give him two #can't go wrong with extra elephants #but yeah i hope there's nothing that like blatantly contradicts any of this stuff #i'm trying to speed read a bunch of comics rn but i keep reading like 50s-80s era primarily #so there's a number of characters i haven't really gotten to yet #also i've discovered i find green arrow comics more entertaining so lowkey i keep reading those instead oops #i have a very convoluted list of what i need to read to hit the major plot points of batfam and arrowfam #but i also lowkey feel like major plot point comics are gonna tell me less about characterization #filler episodes are where its at #but there's no reading order lists that give me 'best filler issues' sorted by character

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coco96 · 4 years

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LDAF - TS Parental/Familial

TONY STARK - PARENTAL

On The Off Chance (Tony Stark X Fem!Reader) Warnings: Mention of spitting in a drink and some threats of violence, and mention of violence Request: Tony stark parental figure with “i know you’re joking but on the off chance you aren’t, no”

Arranged Plans Cancelled (Peter Parker X Fem!Stark!Reader) Warnings: Bad friends Request: Stark!Reader is often hurt by others, like people will arrange plans + blow her off/friends will make plans in front of her + not invite her. people will get her to do their homework for them bc they know she can’t say no. Peter Parker thinks its really unfair but she handles it really well + doesn’t make a fuss. one day Steve/Tony/someone accidentally upsets her (maybe they cancel plans she’s been really looking forward to or something) and Peter just loses it. she’s really shocked that he noticed and he’s standing up for her. She goes to Midtown too …

Homework Struggles (Tony Stark X Fem!Teen!Reader) Request: What about a reader x father figure tony where the reader is really struggling in school and feels like she’s failing him but instead of being upset he just helps them out and discovers they have adhd and gets them the help they need?

Accidentally Coming Out (Tony Stark X Daughter!Reader) Warnings: Accidentally coming out, fear of homophobia Request: … reader accidentally makes a comment about being gay and panics bc she’s not out to him yet? And she tries to run away but someone catches her and brings her home?

Taking the Lead (Tony Stark X Son!Reader) Warnings: Spoilers to Infinity War and Endgame, death Requests: … the one who survives in infinity turns to dust and the one did is alive. the reader didn’t urn to dust and he missed his father, even throught they don’t have nice relationship. he learns that he has a sister and he helped to take care of them as he is like a father figure to Morgan. when endgame happened, the reader do the snap. it like the reader do the snap instead of tony

More Like Pepper (Tony Stark X Teenage!Reader) Request: Could I request a fic where the reader is Tony’s kid but lowkey has no time for the teams shit and is savage?

Hiding Hickies (Tony Stark X Daughter!Reader) Warnings: Hickies/bruises Request: Would you be open to writing a tony x daughter reader where the daughter goes out with a boy for the first time and has to hide hickies? And tony finds out and she’s expecting him to freak out but he just accepts it and is really chill about it?

Metallic Limbs (Peter Parker X Fem!Reader) Warnings: Mention of injury and loss of limbs, mention of surgery Request: … Reader is a quadruple amputee after the Chitauri attack in Manhattan. Tony, As the one who found her in the rubble, feels inclined to watch over her and help her in any way he can. So he has her fitted with state of the art cybernetic limbs. Years later, reader is coming to the avengers HQ to get a tune up and she meets the friendly neighbourhood sideman without the mask. Tony is unsure if he’s okay with them being so chummy together.

Never There (Tony Stark X Daughter!Reader) Warnings: Absent father, swearing, threatening Request: ... reader has been under Tony’s financial care since she was a child but he never saw her as his child and saw no need to spend time with her until after the Ultron situation. But with all the years or ignorance, is the damage already done?

Science Fair (Tony Stark X Son!Reader) Warnings: Mention of neglectful parent Request: Son male reader x tony stark where tony wants to be better of a parent than Howard to male reader

Bitten (Tony Stark X Daughter!Reader) Warnings: Blood, near death Request: One more please if available. Tony stark and daughter were she gets bitten by a vampire and tony and team are extremly worried and strange is the only one that can save her? Fluff and angst. Pepper is her mom.

Left Behind (Tony Stark X Daughter!Reader) Warnings: Mention of death of a parent, a wittle bit of swearing Request: … Tony wants to adopt a kid and he choiced the reader. But the reader is actually Tony’s child by blood m, but he doesn’t know that. and she knows that she is relateted and hates Tony for ‘leaving’ her. …

Looking for Advice (Tony Stark X Son!Reader) Request: Could you maybe do a tony stark x son male reader where the male reader ask for advise to ask a girl out

Dentist Appointment (Tony X Daughter!Reader) Request: Could you write one where the reader needs to have oral surgery to remove some problem teeth but she’s petrified to make the call. But she’s in tears all nigh from the pain? Her dad Tony stark, makes the call behind her back cause he hates seeing her in pain. When they arrive at the hospital she nearly freaks out saying he betrayed her so he hugs her and says it will be ok; but when he did that he also got her in the neck with a sedative to knock her out to make it easier on everyone? Lol

Session (Tony Stark X Daughter!Reader) TRIGGER WARNING: SELF HARM AND DEPRESSION Request: … reader is Tony’s daughter and has a history with self harming so he sends her to therapy for depression. Tony went to intro session with y/n and she says that she doesnt cut anymore and still maintains the lie and then Tony begins to notice all of the signs that point to her self harming and realises she never actually stopped? If thats okay? If not, i understand?

Dip (Tony Stark X Daughter!Reader) Warnings: Depression, self-doubt Request: Tony stark x daughter reader where her grades slip bad because of depression and she panics but Tony’s there for her and makes sure she knows it’s okay to fail?

Helping (Avengers X Teen!Reader) Warnings: Bulimia, throwing up, bullying, self conscious reader. Request: I was wondering if you would write one where the reader is Tony’s daughter (although all of them are protective of her) and she has bulimia and she gets caught purging by one of the team members.

Feeling Loved Again (Father!Tony X Teen!Reader) Warnings: Swearing Request:I had an idea. Where the reader is Tony Starks daughter (15-16 yr old) but she lives with her mom. She’s kind of tomboyish and dyes her hair funky colors so her mom gets sick of it and drops her off at the tower unexpectedly and tells tony she’s his problem now. So he gladly signs the custody papers. He totally adores her and celebrates her first night with him with take out and movies with the whole team.

Parker! (Peter Parker X Fem!Reader) Warnings: Bit of bullying, angry over protective dad. Request: Tony Stark’s daughter is popular and in a band and at a concert, Peter is getting picked on for being alone so Reader goes and kisses him and hugs him, surprising everyone with their secret relationship, much to Tony’s disapproval.

Five Days (Tony Stark X Daughter!Reader) SERIOUS WARNING: EATING DISORDER Other Warnings: Bullying/ teasing Request: Hey love! I was wondering if you could write something along the lines of where the reader has been in recovery from an eating disorder and then has a hard relapse? Maybe with a platonic or father Tony Stark?

It’ll Work Out (Stony X Daughter!Reader) Warnings: Spoilers of Civil War, emotions Request: Hey can you do one where reader is stonys daughter and it’s just about how the family is torn apart lots of angst ends in fluff

New Environment (Tony Stark X Daughter!Reader) Warnings: Mentions of bad background and illegal activities. Request: Do you think you can do a roleplay where tonys daughter doesn’t come from the same background as him and maybe is coming from the ‘ghetto where she lived with her mom and she’s trying to act tough and stuff buts she’s actually really scared? …

Sit Down (Tony Stark X Daughter!Reader) Warnings: Injury Request: … reader sprains her ankle and still tries to do loads of things and won’t let it heal because she’s stubborn af and tony gets all protective? …

Fight Me (Peter Parker X Fem!Reader, Tony Stark X Daughter!Reader) Warnings: Threatening (not serious) Request: Hey can I get a Tony x daughter reader where she’s always says fight me like someone says “I Was sitting there” and she says fight me ect. Anyway lots of fluff a little Peter x reader too- Og I forgot Tony x daughter reader fight me she like pure™ thanks😘

To Make You Happy (Tony X Daughter!Reader) Warnings: Hints of depression Request: … She’s been depressed and going through a rough time. So to cheer her up her dad gets her a kitten even though he isn’t fond of animals. He knew she always wanted one. And she does start to cheer up and they share a dad daughter fluffy moment.

My Daughter (Tony X Daughter!Reader) Warnings: Mention of death of a parent Request: … Tony has a teenage daughter he didn’t know about but the mom dies, so he takes custody and introduces her around and just overall becomes a dad of a teenager? (You don’t have to if it makes you uncomfortable)

Supporting Dad (Tony Stark X Reader) Request: Could you do reader being Tony’s kid and they’re as smart as him and decide to go into music instead of inventing? Like with Tony being the super proud band parent at every concert or somth about him being supportive

Caring Father (Tony X Daughter!Reader) Warnings: Self Conscious reader, protective father, verbal abuse, body shaming Request: … reader who is on the phone with their mom and Tony (their bf, or dad, you choose!), being the overprotective dad/bf he is, has been noticing that the reader has been skipping meals. Like, the reader would only eat around lunchtime, and sometimes dinner, but thats it. He overhears her mom chastising her about how the reader needs to lose weight, ect. Can it be really fluffy?

Delirious (Tony X Daughter!Reader) Warnings: Sickness Request: Tony stark x daughter request? Where she’s sick with a really high fever and completely delirious and keeps saying crazy shit. As concerned as tony is he can’t help not to laugh at some of her antics so he takes video. When she’s better he shows her the video and they both share a laugh over it.

Bookworms (Loki X Fem!Reader) Request: Hey could I request one where the reader is Tony’s daughter and she does a bunch of reading with Loki, but finds out he hasn’t read Harry Potter, freaks, and makes him read all of them?

Your Daughter (Tony X Daughter!Reader) | Part 2 Warnings: Minor Spoilers of Civil War Request: ... reader is Tony’s teenage daughter and he doesn’t know about her and during the airport scene in Civil war this teenage girl arrives in an iron man suit and stops the fight and Tony’s like who are you and then she’s replies with “your daughter” ...

Telling Him (Peter Parker X Male!Reader) Warnings: Mentions of coming out and past murder Request: ... reader is Tony’s son (probably an adoption situation?) and is closeted gay… maybe after Peter is already a part of the avengers, and not during Civil War? ...

I’m Here Now (Tony X Daughter!Reader) | Part 2 Warnings: Mention of car crash, death, injury Request: ... Her and her mom got into a bad accident. The mom dies and reader needs a blood transfusion so when the drs test her they match her to Stark. He gets the call and rushes over. Realizing he’s a dad to a teenage girl now he has the team ready a room and he welcomes her into his heart and makes her feel extra special since she lost her mom.

Who Is It? (Tony X Daughter!Reader) | Part 2 Request: ... Tonys daughter is sitting in the living room being like ‘hey I hacked into your system 'cause I’m your super smart daughter and have no where else to go’ and Tony starts to get really protectiv over her. And then finds out that she is falling in love with Peter, but Tony is basically the last one to find out? ...

Missing My Voice (Tony X Fem!Reader, Peter x Fem!Reader) | Part 2 Warnings: Blood, surgery, needles, injury Request: ... reader loves to sing and play the guitar and a ton of other instruments but goes mute during a mission (due to an injury), and how it impacts Peter and Tony? And can Tony like, go to a ton of doctors and stuff to try and find a solution? ...

Sit Down (Tony Stark X Daughter!Reader) Warnings: Injury Request: ... reader sprains her ankle and still tries to do loads of things and won’t let it heal because she’s stubborn af and tony gets all protective? ...

Being Tony Stark’s Adopted Daughter Would Include…

Be Careful (Tony X Daughter!Reader, Peter X Fem!Reader) | Part 2 Warnings: Blood, getting shot Request: ... reader is Tony’s teenage daughter who’s dating Peter and she’s just the type of person everyone loves but she’s also a really good hacker and fighter so she does missions sometimes and she ends up getting shot? ...

Caring Father (Tony X Daughter!Reader) Warnings: Self Conscious reader, protective father, verbal abuse, body shaming Request: ... reader who is on the phone with their mom and Tony ... has been noticing that the reader has been skipping meals. Like, the reader would only eat around lunchtime, and sometimes dinner, but thats it. He overhears her mom chastising her about how the reader needs to lose weight, ect. ...

Approving (Peter Parker X Reader, Tony X Daughter!Reader) Request: ... Tony says to his daughter that he doesn’t like the idea of them dating but behind her back he’s talking to the Avengers about how happy he is that his daughter found a good guy. ...

Warning Signs (Tony and Peter X Fem!Reader) Warnings: Mentions of Domestic abuse Request: ... reader goes to peter Parkers school and she also started interning at the avengers tower as a lab assistant? She gets along with the team and considers them family. She ends up not showing up at school or the tower for a few days so Peter goes to her house to check on her and finds out she’s being abused by her parents. ...

Parental Advice (Tony Stark X Daughter!Reader) | Part 2 Warnings: Teasing Request: ... Tony goes on with his life as an Avenger and all and it’s getting harder on him ... Meanwhile, you’re struggling with your social life ... you become pretty lonely and your favorite place is the tower with the avengers ... Finally, one morning, you and Tony are both up early(like, 4 am) and you talk to each other about your troubles. ...

Being Pepper’s Adopted Daughter and Tony Adopting You Would Include…

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TONY STARK - FAMILIAL

A Little Dense (Tony Stark X Sister!Reader, Clint Barton X Fem!Reader) Warnings: A bit of swearing Request: Clint and tony’s sister. You are trying to tell him that Clints gonna be a dad and tony is gonna be a uncle? The rest of the team finds out at the end. Some cute and fluff.

Meeting Her Husband (Loki X Stark!Reader) Warnings: Pregnancy Request: Tony and sister reader: he and the team discover you are in a secret relationship with Loki and you both are happily married and you are a few months pregnant with loki’s baby and he is not happy about it.

A Little Talk (Tony Stark X Brother!Reader) | Part 2 Warnings: Swearing, alcoholism Request: one with Tony as your big brother and you’re both going through a hard time or something?

Unfinished Business (Tony X Brother!Reader) Warnings: Death, death of parents, presumed death, a lot of emotions coming your way Request: … Reader is Tony Starks brother who, at a young age, runaway and now is coming back at Tony? But like Reader has some sort of a supernatural power like seeing ppl? …

I Still Love You (Bucky Barnes X Fem!Reader) Warnings: Spoilers of Civil War Request: With the stark reader and Bucky one, can you do where he blames himself for the death of readers and Tony’s parents, but she still loves him, even though Tony doesn’t allow it. Eventually Tony and reader have a heart to heart and gives her his blessing. Bucky puts aside his guilt?

Passing The Test. (Pietro X Fem!Reader) Warnings: Death threats, unplanned pregnancy, minor violence. Request: … reader being Tony´s sister. She dates Pietro for a long time and gets pregnant, and the avengers find out (exept tony) and their reaction, and at the end Tony realize because of her tummy and wants to kill pietro but at the end he is proud …

Better Choice (Tony Stark X Cousin!Reader, Peter Parker X Reader) Warnings: One swears and mentions of bed relationships and breakups Request: The reader is Tonys younger cousin (teenager) and she starts falling for Peter and tony just pets it happen because he’s better than any boyfriend the reader has had before

Where’s Nat? (Avengers X Teen!Reader) Warnings: Blood. Looooots of blood. Request: teen reader has period and goes to avengers for help but Nat isn’t home – Tony is her uncle!

Overprotective much? (Avengers X Fem!Reader) Warnings: One swear word, threatening, flirting, drinking and attempted murder by an overprotective brother. Request: ... reader is Tony´s sister and she is really beautiful (thats why Tony won´t introduce her) and the avengers are surprised and start bothering Tony and he gots really jealous and protective ...

#marvel cinematic universe #tony stark #iron man #tony stark x reader #iron man x reader #marvel #mcu #lazydoodlesandfanfic #lazydoodlesandfanfic masterlist

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scuttling · 3 years

Text

While You Were Sleeping (Okay, in a Coma)

Fandom: Criminal Minds Pairings: Derek Morgan & Latina Original Female Character Aaron Hotchner/Latina Original Female Character Derek Morgan/Spencer Reid Word Count: 2,058 Chapters: 1 of ? WIP Tags: SFW so far, Sophie is not in the BAU, While You Were Sleeping (film) AU, Coffee shop, Unrequited love, Canon-typical violence, Slow burn

Summary: What happens when Derek Morgan, the man Sophie Cortes is secretly in love with, goes into a coma, and everyone around them mistakes her for his girlfriend? As if things weren't complicated enough, his boss is sweet, kind, incredibly handsome, and makes sure she's taken care of while Derek is in the hospital. Plus, she thinks one of Derek's coworkers is more secretly in love with him than she is. Feelings shift, but how does Sophie explain to the world that she fell for Aaron while Derek was sleeping, without hurting everyone she's come to care about?

Read on AO3 or read more below! The morning that changes Sophie Cortes’s life forever begins much like any other: she wakes up at 3 AM to her blaring alarm, slides out of bed with a groan, tugs off the oversized t-shirt she slept in and pulls on a sports bra and leggings to go for a run. She knows this makes her sound like a lunatic, but with her schedule, if she doesn’t exercise before the crack of dawn, it just doesn’t happen.

After her run, she goes home to shower and change, grabs her bag and drives to The Busy Bean, the coffee shop she co-owns with her best friend Jocelyn. Jocelyn is the brains of the operation, the one with all the great marketing ideas, the one who handles the finances and vendors and supply issues and makes sure everything is Fair Trade or else—Sophie bakes cookies and makes macchiatos, but everyone’s got their strong suits.

She loves the coffee shop more than anything, its bright brick walls and dark wood floors, the smell of fresh beans and sugar, the bustle of regular customers they get from being so near Quantico; most of them are serious suit types, always in a hurry, but some of them are sweet, take their time to say good morning, like Sophie’s favorite customer, Derek.

She knows Derek is a fed of some sort, even though he’s not usually in a suit. He has that air about him, like he’s powerful and capable, like he’s seen things, but he never fails to flash her a megawatt smile, to lean against the counter while she makes his mocha and ask her how her morning is going. She’s a little bit in love with him.

Jocelyn knows this, and always makes sure Sophie is the one to wait on him; when she calls Sophie out from the kitchen specifically because Derek’s there, she knows he knows, and she flushes, but he says she makes his drink better than anyone, always asks her for a cookie recommendation on Fridays so he can take a box to the office, so she thinks it might not be completely one sided. Maybe. Or he’s just a really, really sweet guy.

On the morning that changes her life forever, he’s still very sweet, but she also sees a side of him she’s never seen before.

Someone tries to rob them. The man walks right up to the counter, no mask, no nothing, and tells her to put all of the money from the register into a cookie box or he’ll pull out the gun he’s got in his pocket and blow her face off. Her first instinct is to be pissed about this, which she knows is really stupid. She takes a step back, looks at the guy like he’s an idiot, crosses her arms.

“Are you fucking kidding me? Do you know how hard we work for this money? We don’t sit around… playing video games in our mom’s basement, like you do, by the looks of it.” The guy is obviously not happy about this, slams his hands down on the counter, and Derek, who is two spots behind him, leans slightly out of line to get her attention.

“Sophie, is this guy bothering you?” Before she can answer, the guy turns to look at Derek; he takes one glance at his hot, strong physique, and then his gun and his badge thing, and books it out of the shop. Derek tears off after him, and Sophie can see this ending very badly, so she grabs Jocelyn, asks her to cover the register and tells her she’ll be right back.

She jogs outside, expecting to see Derek manhandling the dumbass robber, or at least still chasing after him; she does not expect to see Derek laying on the ground, bleeding out, a bullet wound in his stomach.

“Oh my god, Derek!” She skids to a halt next to him, pulls off her apron—it’s mostly clean, she thinks—and lifts up his shirt, presses it to the wound to stop the bleeding. “Are you okay? That’s dumb, you’re not okay, but can you hear me? Are you going to die?” He chuckles, and that makes her feel a little better, but then he coughs up blood, and that makes her feel much, much worse.

She pulls her phone out of her back pocket, calls 911, and just stays with him, talks to him about nothing and everything, until the police and paramedics arrive. At that point, he has passed out, looks drained and weak, so unlike the Derek she has come to know… and love. Fuck. If he dies because of something that happened at her shop…

“Excuse me, miss, but we need to get him on the stretcher,” an EMT says, putting his hand gently on her shoulder. She backs off, knows he needs to be attended to, but she can’t leave him, she just can’t.

“Can I ride to the hospital with him? Please,” she asks the other tech, and she glances at her partner, who nods. Sophie sighs a breath of relief, sends a text to Jocelyn explaining what happened and that she’ll need to be out of the shop for the foreseeable future.

She notices that Derek’s phone has fallen off of his belt, and she picks it up, since the paramedics don’t seem interested. She absently decides to look through his recent contacts, to see if there’s someone she should inform of the accident: the last number he dialed belongs to someone named Hotch, and she vaguely remembers him mentioning the name before. It might be his boss, or something? He dials the number frequently, anyway, so she figures it’s worth a shot.

“Hotchner,” the man answers after two rings, and Sophie sighs, glad she got through to someone. Even if he’s not the person she should be contacting, he might know how to reach them.

“Uh, hello. I’m pretty sure you’re Derek’s boss, but even if you aren’t, you’re the last person he called, so… There’s been an accident. Derek’s been shot. We’re headed to the GWU Medical Center; I thought you would want to know.” She can hear the man moving some papers in the background, banging something around on his desk, maybe.

“We’re on the way; how bad is it? Is he conscious? What happened?” The paramedics signal for her to hop into the back of the ambulance, so she does, and she takes Derek’s limp hand. Her eyes well up with tears, and it feels real, now, that she has to relive it.

“There was someone trying to rob the coffee shop, and—and Derek went after him; he had a gun, and I guess he shot him. I mean, he obviously shot him. In the stomach. He’s not conscious; I don’t know how bad it is, but he was coughing up blood. Oh, god,” she breathes, voice shaky, and the man on the phone makes a soft sound of reassurance.

“It’s alright. He’s a very strong person, I promise you. He’ll be okay. You said you were headed to GWU Medical Center; are you with him now?”

“Yes. The paramedics let me ride with him. I can text you an update when we get there, his room number if he has one.” She can hear him talking to someone else in the background, but it only takes him a moment to answer.

“Please do. We’ll be there as quickly as we can. Thank you,…?” He pauses, clearly wondering who the hell she is.

“Oh, Sophie. Sophie Cortes.”

“Aaron Hotchner. Thank you. We’ll see you soon.”

The paramedics push Derek into the emergency room entrance, and Sophie follows behind, feeling anxious and out of place, and worried about his injury. They push the gurney through a set of double doors, and Sophie goes to follow, but a stern looking nurse in gold scrubs puts a hand in front of her, doesn’t even look up from her clipboard.

“You can’t go in there.” Sophie’s heart-rate jumps, and she shakes her head.

“I need to go in there, I need to make sure he’s okay. Please.”

“Are you family?” she asks, giving her a once-over; she clearly decides that Sophie is not family, and she doesn’t want to lie, anyway.

“No, I’m not family, but—”

“Like I said, you can’t go in there. Family only.” She moves her arm, waits like she dares Sophie to try, but she just sighs, sags against the wall, and the woman walks away.

“But you don’t understand,” Sophie says weakly, to herself. “I’m in love with him.” She brings up a hand to scrub at the tears forming in her eyes, and another nurse, one with blue scrubs and braids and a kind smile, rests a palm on her shoulder.

“Come with me.” Sophie looks up at her—she looks kind of like an angel, but it’s probably just the fluorescent lighting—and nods, follows.

She takes her through a staff only door, sneaks her into the OR hallway, where they can peer through a window at Derek, surrounded by doctors, surgeons, nurses. Sophie has only seen this kind of stuff on TV, so she doesn’t know how it’s going, but the nurse who brought her tells her to stay there for one second and bustles off.

It’s really scary to watch: there are bloody cloths being thrown around, and tubes and clamps and other medical devices she’s not sure the use for, but after a moment, she can see a doctor lift up a pair of surgical pliers, and there’s a bullet between the prongs. That’s a good sign, she’s pretty sure.

The nice nurse comes back, and she scares the shit out of Sophie when she puts a hand on her arm, making her jump a foot. She smiles apologetically, and Sophie returns it.

“I found out his room number, if you’d like to go sit and wait for him to be brought in. It's an ICU, so technically visiting hours haven’t started yet, but I can make an exception—for an hour, okay?” Sophie nods, wraps her hands around the nurse's wrists.

“Thank you so much. Really—I just need to know he’s okay,” she says, and the woman nods understandingly and takes her to room 104, where Derek will be placed after surgery.

She texts the number to Derek’s boss, takes a seat on the chair in the corner of the room. She gets restless quickly, stands up, uses the bathroom sink to scrub at her hands, because they’re still stained with Derek’s blood. It’s quiet, eerily so, until suddenly it isn’t.

Derek is wheeled in on a bed by a couple of nurses; he looks a little better, all wrapped up in gauze, and they hook him to machines, displaying a steady heartbeat. She breathes a sigh of relief. He’s alright. He’s not dead. That’s incredible news. She takes his hand, wills herself not to cry, murmurs that she’s so happy he’s alive.

As soon as the nurses leave, a group of people who can only be Derek’s coworkers enter the room. There is a tall, serious looking man with dark hair and a dark suit; a woman with thick fringe, a kind face; an older guy with facial hair who looks worried and weary; a skinny guy who looks about the same as Sophie feels; a petite blonde woman with the bluest eyes Sophie’s ever seen; and another blonde woman with crimped hair and glossy lips who has absolutely been crying. They look at Sophie, and she stands, drops Derek’s hand.

“Um, hi, I’m—”

“Who are you?” a doctor says suddenly from behind the group. The kind nurse who let her see Derek is behind him. The serious looking man reaches into his pocket, flashes a badge with a no-nonsense expression.

“We’re with the FBI. We’re his coworkers.” He looks over at Sophie, and she takes a deep breath. Before she can explain who she is, the kind nurse steps around the doctor, flashes Sophie a smile.

“And she’s his girlfriend.”

Uh. What the fuck?

Derek’s coworkers exchange a look that says pretty much the same thing; the tall skinny one looks like his heart has been broken.

Sophie opens her mouth to correct that extremely incorrect assumption, but she can’t find the words, and then she passes out.

#aaron hotchner #aaron hotchner/original female character #aaron hotchner x original female character #aaron hotchner fanfic #derek morgan #derek morgan fanfic #spencer reid #spencer reid fanfic #spencer reid fanfiction #criminal minds fanfic #latina original female character #moreid #while you were sleeping #coffee shop au #derek morgan x spencer reid #derek morgan/spencer reid

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joyful-soul-collector · 3 years

Photo

🎉Week 3: December 23-31🎉

Ten o’Clock Wake Up Call by @skeeter-110 (Pt. 10 of Twelve Days of Christmas)

Summary: It's Christmas morning in the Stark-Rhodes' household.

Relationships/Tropes: Ironhusbands, Irondad, Papa Rhodey, Avengers Family, Kid Peter, Christmas

Review: I loved the big snuggle pile at the end, and how excited Peter was for his dads to open their presents! It showed how even as a little kid, Peter's always cared more about others than he has himself

🎉

Eleven Laps Around The Rink by @skeeter-110 (Pt. 11 of Twelve Days of Christmas)

Summary: The Stark-Rhodes family goes ice skating with the Avengers

Relationships/Tropes: Ironhusbands, Irondad, Papa Rhodey, Avengers Family, Kid Peter, Ice Skating

Review: I loved how this showed Peter learning to skate, going from holding his parents hands, to skating from Tony to Rhodey, and finally to skating all on his own! Very cute

🎉

Twelve New Months To Look Forward To by @skeeter-110 (Pt. 12 of Twelve Days of Christmas)

Summary: The Stark-Rhodes' family celebrates the new year.

Relationships/Tropes: Ironhusbands, Irondad, Papa Rhodey, Kid Peter, New Years Eve

Review: A perfect ending to the sweetest holiday series! It was soft and loving and I'm so happy to have read about this happy little family :D

🎉

The Way I Love You ch. 3 by @littlemissagrafina

Summary: Peter Parker had a vibrant, happy presence. Anytime that he was around became brighter, happier. It was just the way it was. He was always moving, talking, just living, so when the lightness that his loved ones were so accustomed to seeing started fading, it scared them. A still silence built itself around Peter, snuffing out his usual exuberant voice. Dark and stifling. Those around him could only hope it wouldn't consume him. That it wouldn't take his smile.

Five times that someone see's Peter struggling and one time he calls for help.

Relationships/Tropes: Irondad, Ned Leeds & Peter Parker, Uncle Ben & Peter Parker, Aunt May & Peter Parker, Spideychelle, Depressed Peter Parker, Hurt/Comfort

Review: This story really shows how sometimes the best way to help someone who's depressed or just having a bad day is to do something small to make things a little easier for them. You often can't get rid of all their worries through a deep heart-to-heart and you certainly can protect them from everything yourself, but doing something small can make a bigger difference than you think

🎉

Peter hides an injury prompt by @jen27ny

Summary: Peter, who already downplays every injury, takes the hint too close and hides a serious injury, and the Avengers learn the hard way why Tony really fusses every time he got hurt

Relationships/Tropes: Irondad, Avengers Family, Hiding an Injury, Crackfic

Review: Peter hiding his injuries is one of my favorite tropes, and this story did it really well! I love how protective everyone was of Peter by the end, and how they realized Tony wasn't exaggerating when he said they had to make absolutely sure Peter was fine haha

🎉

Peter has ADHD prompt by @jen27ny

Summary: Peter’s ADHD starts to affect his grades

Relationships/Tropes: Irondad, Peter Parker Has ADHD

Review: This story was so sweet! I myself have ADHD so I love stories about Peter with ADHD and this one was great! I relate to Peter in that I sucked at Spanish, I've always dreaded going to that class haha. Very nice story!

🎉

The Perfect Name by @honestmischief

Summary: Rhodey and Tony are drunk and in love

Relationships/Tropes: Ironhusbands, Drunk

Review: This ficlet was adorable! I loved how affectionate Tony and Rhodey were with each other, and how Rhodey said Tony was "too cute to be sad", it was so cute

🎉

Christmas Pranks by @skeeter-110

Summary: Tony wraps up random things for little Peter to open while Steve records it all

Relationships/Tropes: Irondad, Stony, Papa Steve, Christmas, Pranks, Kid Peter

Review: THIS WAS SO ADORABLE! I can't get enough of Cute Kid Peter, and this had to have been Cute Kid Peter overload honestly, I think I got cavities from the amount of fluff in this little drabble. Very worth it, excuse me, I have a trip to the dentist I need to make

🎉

Peter Calls Tony Dad (B99 Style) by @jen27ny

Summary: Pretty much exactly what the title says

Relationships/Tropes: Irondad, Avengers Family, Peter Calls Tony Dad

Review: This story was HILARIOUS, I loved that moment in B99, and this fic emulated the silliness and teasing perfectly, and the bit about them going to fix the video game was great! I loved this!

🎉

santa, come again by @jean-and-diet-coke

Summary: Christmas morning with the Starks!

Relationships/Tropes: Irondad, Rhodey & Tony, Rhodey & Peter, Bio Dad Tony, Christmas

Review: This story was super adorable! I loved seeing how affectionate the three of them were with each other, and the softness of the story was perfect for the christmas season! I loved seeing both Tony and Rhodey be so gentle with Peter, and Peter being a sweet babbly child in return!

🎉

“Aces come out of the deck” by Miss__Red

Summary: “I’m ace,“ he blurred out, avoiding to look at Wade and staring down on his plate instead. “I’m sorry, if that’s a deal breaker for you and you wanna leave that’s okay, I understand,” Peter said quietly.

Or the one where Peter tells Wade he’s asexual and Wade is not reacting like Peter thought he would

Relationships/Tropes: Spideypool, Asexual Peter Parker, Pansexual Wade Wilson, Coming Out, Soft Wade Wilson

Review: This story was so so nice to read, actually made me cry a little. I love stories where characters are accepting of someone's asexuality and this is definitely added to one of my favorites. Super cute and super sweet

🎉

“My Own ‘Spidey Sense’ Was Tingling” by @baloobird (Pt. 2 of The New Normal)

Summary: It has been a year since Peter Parker was diagnosed with Pediatric Multiple Sclerosis and he—like everyone with this disease—has to get an MRI scan done every year so the doctors can monitor his condition.

The scan itself is tedious but he’s used to it, it’s not his first one by any means. Peter knows what to expect, how loud it’ll be, how long it takes.

But this is the first scan where he’ll be completely by himself.

(Might be best to read the first story before this one)

Relationships/Tropes: Irondad, Uncle Happy, Sickfic, Chronic Illness, Neurological Disorders

Review: Another great story about MS by @baloobird! This story was really well written, and I liked how Peter's anxiety over the MRI scan was shown and described, and I loved seeing Peter's thoughts about everything that happened! Very sweet story :D

🎉

50 Christmas Ornaments My True Love Gave To Me by @joyful-soul-collector (Pt. 10 of Irondad Oneshots)

Summary: It was Christmastime in the Stark-Rhodes-Potts’ household, with Tony, Rhodey, Pepper, Peter, and Morgan all sitting at the table. Jingle Bells was playing quietly in the background, and each one of them was working on decorating a clear plastic christmas bauble, a growing pile of colorful ornaments in the center of the table.

The Iron Family gets carried away making Christmas ornaments, and Peter talks to his dad about asexuality

Relationships/Tropes: Irondad, Papa Rhodey, Mom Pepper, Peter & Morgan, Pepperhony (Pepper/Rhodey/Tony), Christmas, Asexual Peter Parker, Asexual Tony Stark, Bisexual Pepper Potts, Pansexual James “Rhodey” Rhodes, Polyamorous Relationship

Review: Yes, this is my own fic and I’m recommending it because I like it, and I worked hard on it haha. Anyway I like the amount of representation I put in this one, I remember starting this and being like “should I have Tony with Pepper or Rhodey?” and then decided fuck it, why not both? Both is good :D

🎉

If you look at any these stories, be sure to show the author your appreciation with a comment/kudos/reblog where applicable!

Click here for more fanfic rec lists!

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anxiousstark · 4 years

Text

S1 02.1 |Heart Monitor

MASTERLIST

Stiles Stilinski x Reader! Half-sibling!Mccall

Word count:1998

Warnings: Injuries, anger issues, blood, swearing (always).

↪ Please respect my work. Don’t copy, translate or claim them as yours. Not on this website or another. All Rights Are Reserved. Otherwise, legal actions will be taken.

"I thought I said we would talk about this...alone." Melissa smiled at Scott. I could see behind that smile she probably wanted to hit him.

Scott had brought me to his house, and we hadn't said a word to each other. At least we had something in common, none of us wanted to be in this situation. I also got to meet Stiles, his best friend. He asked me a lot of questions on the way to Scott's house, most of them related to what had happened in the store.

Stiles was filling his mouth with pizza that Melissa had ordered. "I can' belief you don' zink of me as family." He talked with his mouth open, and I chuckled.

"Stiles is going to know anyway." Scott fiddled with his slice of pizza. "I would have told him as soon as we finished this conversation." His voice was dull, he seemed to be annoyed. It's not like he was the one living with strangers.

Melissa sighed. "This situation is strange."

"Yes, it is," Stiles replied while grabbing two more slices of pizza. He looked up to see Melissa glaring at him. "Oh, sorry. Continue."

"Like I was saying, this situation is strange." She wiped her hands, looking at her son. "But there are situations in life where we need to think about other people and-"

"Why doesn't she stay with her father?" He spat back as if we didn't have the same father. Well, more like the same sperm donor because none of us grew up having him by our side.

"Because I haven't seen him since I was four," I replied. Scott glared at me, and then he glanced at his mother. "Why doesn't she stay with her mother?"

I swallowed and answered again. "Because she is dead." I heard someone gasp, looking to my side I saw Stiles looking at me with huge eyes, but for the first time in my life, I didn't feel like someone felt sorry for me and that was...peaceful.

"I hope you guys will get along in school."

"She's coming to the same school?!" He got up from his chair.

"Yes, Scott. She is." His mom got up from the chair. "Now, go walk your friend to the door. There's class tomorrow and it's late." She turned around and looked at me. "I will show you your room, sweetheart." She smiled lightly and started walking upstairs.

Scott went outside the house, not without yelling for Stiles to follow him. Now, Stiles and I were alone in the same room and I smiled at him before starting to go upstairs.

"Wait." His voice stopped me. "Are you sure it was a bear? Maybe it was a wolf?"

I grinned. "Good night, Stiles. I suppose I will see you tomorrow."

Stiles beamed at me happily while the teacher introduced me to the whole class as the new student and Scott McCall's sister. I was going to interrupt him and tell him that we weren't siblings when he told me to sit down on a vacant seat.

Instantly, Stiles started to point to a table that was on his left, telling me to sit down there. I rolled my eyes at his enthusiasm and couldn't help but grin at how goofy he was. He seemed like a good guy. Well, at least better than Scott.

"How was your first day?" He rested his head on his right hand, turning his entire body towards me. He looked at me while I took papers and a pencil out of my backpack.

"Well," I put everything in its correct place and looked at him. "I'm in a new place, a new school, new people, and living with my father's other family," I smirked. "Seems like an adventure," I added sarcastically.

"Well, Beacon Hills can be a damn adventure." He whispered. I think he was trying not to say that too loud. But I heard him. "And believe me, Scott isn't that bad." His face got serious. "I mean, he has never watched Star Wars and he sometimes makes stupid decisions...but apart from that, he ain't that bad."

"Seems like we have something else in common." I snorted. I noticed Stiles looking at me as if he was confused. "I have never watched Star Wars." He gasped. "What? It seems like it's boring anyway."

"Okay." He pointed at me. "First of all, that was disrespectful. Second of all, we are going to change that. You McCall's are going to watch Star Wars with me. That is going to be my mission."

His composture changed when Scott came into class, sitting behind him. Scott glared at me, and I rolled my eyes while looking away. But from the corner of my eye, I could see how Scott was getting closer to Stiles. Both of them seemed to be arguing about something. Well, most likely Scott because Stiles was completely ignoring him. He seemed pretty mad.

I decided to lose my focus on them, focusing on my blank paper. And it seemed like I focused too hard because what seemed like seconds have been hours. My head started hurting while putting my things inside my backpack.

Melissa had told Scott to be around me in school and to not leave me alone. But I could tell that Scott didn't like me at all. I guess I discovered that when he didn't talk to me or when he glared at me. Oh, or maybe when he told me to be at least 3 meters away from him and Stiles when walking on the hallways.

"After work. All right, well, that gives me to the end of the school day then." I heard Stiles' voice and felt confused. They were quite far from me.

"To do what?"

"To teach you myself." Stiles turned around, staring at me. I tried to seem confused, even though I was. I just heard their conversation. "And she is going to help." He made a sign for me to walk closer.

I got closer after swallowing. "Yeah?" I asked and tried to avoid Scott's gaze which seemed to pierce my forehead. Yes, Scotty, I know you want me far from you. “You called me?”

"Yeah." Stiles grinned, placing his arm around my shoulders. "You know, your brother, right here." Both of us glared at him. "I mean, you...like. Well, it doesn't matter." He sighed. "He has been dealing with..." He looked at Scott and shook his head in response. "He has been dealing with anger issues, and I just offered to help him control it. And you are going to help me."

"Why do I have to help?" "Why does she have to help?"

We, the McCall's said at the same time.

"Because I say so." The hazel-eyed boy replied while making us walk to a field. "Okay. Now, put this on." He took something out of his backpack, handing it to Scott.

"Isn't this one of the heart rate monitors for the track team?" Scott asked frustrated while I sat down next to the other boy, letting my backpack fall to the ground. Stiles let him know that he had borrowed it while Scott corrected him. "Stole it."

"Temporarily misappropriated. Coach uses it to monitor his heart rate with his phone while he jogs, and you're gonna wear it for the rest of the day." I grinned, even though I didn't know what was going on.

"Isn't that coach's phone?"

Stiles looked at me, rolled his eyes, and then grinned. "That, I stole." He went back to his earnest expression. "All right, well, your heart rate goes up when you go..." He looked at me again and then immediately, looked at Scott. "When...when you're playing lacrosse, when you're with Allison, whenever you get angry. Maybe learning to control it is tied to learning to control your heart rate."

"Like the Incredible Hulk?" Both of them snapped their heads at me when I talked.

Stiles smiled. "Kind of like the Incredible Hulk, yeah."

"No, I'm like the Incredible Hulk." Again. He was glaring at me.

"That is literally what I've said," I replied to him with a little anger.

He was going to reply but got interrupted by Stiles. "Would you shut up and put the strap on?" Stiles helped him and then, he took a tape out of his backpack. "All right. You ready?" He grabbed my wrist, and we both started getting far from him.

"No."

"Remember, don't get angry."

"What is going on?" I asked.

"Wait and see, McCall. Wait and see." Stiles grabbed his lacrosse stick, he began to throw balls at Scott. He was enjoying it, and to be honest, I was enjoying it too. He deserved it, he was being an asshole to me. "Wanna try?" He asked while offering me his stick.

I grinned, grabbing it confidently. "Yeah, I think I would like to try." I felt strength gathering in my body. I threw the ball as hard as I could, accidentally hitting Scott in his private areas. Well, maybe it wasn't an accident."

Stiles 'wooed' while laughing and taking the stick from me, continuing to throw balls at Scott while the taped boy tried to repeat over and over again that he should stay calm.

I saw Jackson looking at us from afar, but I got distracted when I heard a heartbeat? Was I hearing a heartbeat? It was going fast. I glanced back at Scott. Was it his heartbeat?

He was on the floor, making some noises, and I wasn't sure if he was angry or in pain, maybe both. But what I didn't expect was for him to break free from the tape. Sometimes I couldn't even cut it with scissors.

Stiles peered at me, he looked nervous. "Ah..you know. Anger issues."

"Yeah," I whispered, looking back at Jackson. He wasn't there anymore.

"Let's go change." Stiles helped Scott up. Then, he looked at me and told me to wait for them in the corridor so they could accompany me to class. We had a different class now, and to be honest, it scared me a little bit.

I sat down on the floor, my back against the blue lockers. The corridor was empty, the only thing I could hear was my breath. Until I heard footsteps and the back of my neck started burning, making me hiss.

"Agh, it hurts like a bitch." I frowned.

"Mine does too." Jackson was sitting down next to me. "How are you holding up? Lydia told me that you are Scott's sister." I grimaced. "Uhm, Lydia is like pretty popular so she knows everything that happens in this high school, or maybe in Beacon Hills."

I chuckled. "Well, first of all."

"We are not siblings." He imitated my voice.

"How did you know I was going to say that?" I unconsciously touched the back of my neck.

He also seemed bewildered. "I'm not sure." He noticed my hand, lightly touching my neck. "Is it...is it itching?"

I nodded. "A lot. Yours?" I asked, remembering that his wound had appeared after mine, which seemed completely strange.

"Mine too." His eyes seemed to seek some sign on my face. "Do you feel strange?" He started to go into more detail when he noticed that I was confused about what he was referring to. "Like, I feel tired and I sweat a lot."

I heard my name being called and saw Stiles waving at me, standing next to Scott. The other boy didn't seem too happy, he was glaring at Jackson. I suppose that was Scott McCall's thing, glaring at people like he wanted to kill them.

"I think you have clear signs of being a teenager and being exhausted because of school." I offered a little smile while getting up from the floor. He nodded, but I could see that he was quite worried.

I started walking towards the boys when a thought crossed my mind. It smelled like someone was dying.

TAGLIST: @og-baby-ob14 - @savemypostcards - @cas-loves-pizza - @used-avocado - @mvrylee - @bilesxbilinskixlahey - @honeydoll-stark - @arieltheworldisamess - @softpeteparker - @kit-kat-katie99 - @thatsuperherosidekick - @bexbetterxthanxwords - @big-galaxy-chaos - @littlemiss-forgotten - @enchantedcruelsummer - @coldfreakeggsexpert - @merla123 - @sammypotato67 - @weirdowithnobeardo -

People in black means it doesn’t let me tag them.

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ashintheairlikesnow · 4 years

Text

BTHB: Traumatic Touch Aversion

@comfy-whumpee requested “Traumatic Touch Aversion” for Antoni and here it is! Antoni’s first meeting with Nat when he came to stay at her safehouse. Also listing @wildfaewhump who loves all things Antoni.

CW: Referenced burns/scarring, touch aversion, conditioning, pet whump reference, box boy, self-injury (reopening wound at the end)

They meet in what was supposed to be a brand new subdivision, back before the recession scattered the developers and contractors to the wind and left this grassy cleared patch of ground just outside the city, complete with poured paved little road and a few poured concrete slab foundations, like grave markers for the homes that were never built here, the people who never had the chance to move in.

A reminder of the world where you can do everything right and the whim of a few individuals, who live so far away from you, can create an avalanche that buries your plans. Nat is old hat at that, of course - she’s buried her plans twice now, and built new ones right on top of the old. She was going to work in journalism, and then she was going to be the best marketing director WRU ever had, and then…

And then she walked away.

Bought a house with some of her inheritance from her dad, fixed it up for a few months, and... started over.

She likes this life just fine, because it leads her here, to places like this, to clandestine meetings after dark.

Nat’s truck is parked in a cul-de-sac that loops around empty grass, where they might have built a playground, if the neighborhood had gone up. Or put in a pool. Ahead of her is the SUV of the man she’s meeting, so far out in the sticks that she doesn’t worry about being seen, not here. Not in the evening light, with the sky burning down to night.

She hops down from the truck, short and strong, her long brown braid smacking in the middle of her back as she goes, in her signature flannel over a t-shirt and jeans. You look like Kurt Cobain’s mom, Jake had told her once, and she’d pointed out that she’d be Kurt Cobain’s little sister, thank you very much, she was in Driver’s Ed when all that happened, and hadn’t that blown his mind for a while.

She’s smiling, a little, as the breeze picks up. It’s the time of year when the hottest winds blow, licking through her hair and over her skin. Like living in a kiln. Nat feels like she cracks a little more each year in the heat.

Still can’t give up her flannels, though. She’ll be cold in the ground before she wears anything else, ever again. Flannels and sensible sneakers or work boots, and that’s the farmer in her that just refuses to fade away.

Those years wearing suits and heels, she felt like she was playacting, wearing a costume picked out by someone else that didn’t fit. This is who she is, and she can’t be anything else. She wouldn’t be, not ever again, anyway.

“Evening, Nat,” One of the two men she is here to meet calls out, and she raises a hand in greeting. Paul is in his fifties, ten years or so older than Nat herself. He’s been living the lib life for decades, was the one she used to call fifteen times a week with a thousand crises she didn’t know how to solve.

Now she’s the one the younger safehouse owners call, and it’s kind of funny… in a lot of ways, 42 still feels like 24 felt, only she’s less confused and gives a lot less of a fuck about fitting in or following the expectations set out for what makes a good life.

The other man standing next to him is younger, and doesn’t look up. That’s the one that Nat is really here to see. That’s the rescued runaway pet she’s here, in the end, to try and save.

Nat moves to the older man without hesitation and crushes him tightly to her in a hug, listening to his deep, rumbling laugh. “Paul! How was the drive? Was it good weather all the way?”

“Long,” Paul answers, sardonic as always, patting her back. “Started out rainy, as Washington likes to be up by the coast, and I don’t think I’ve seen an ounce of precipitation since we stayed overnight at the hotel. You’re starting to sound Californian, you know. That Midwestern accent’s slipping away.”

“After twenty years, you’d think it’d be gone.” She laughs, unbothered. “You’re grayer than last time, too.”

“Look, at my age, you’re just happy the hair is there at all, Nat. Where’s Jake? He didn’t want to ride along this time?”

“Hm? Home with the others. He’s talking about going back to college, and so he needs to study, and then we’ve got this new rescue who’s still healing up from some serious injuries he underwent, so Jake doesn’t want to leave... and I don’t blame him. Our newest rescue’s a flight risk in a big way. He wanted to send his greetings, though.”

“Well, tell him I said hi in return.”

“Will do. I was surprised to hear from you, I didn’t think you did out of state drives anymore.”

Paul clears his throat. “I don’t. But we’ve got a situation, and we had a donor step in and pay for the gas and hotel money.”

Nat nods, her smile fading and moving back to seriousness, as she looks around Paul at the second man, just younger, standing hunched against the side of the SUV, clutching a single small backpack that hangs off one shoulder. “This is the situation?”

“Yeah.” Paul sighs, rubbing at his face with one hand. “This boy popped up at my door a couple of weeks ago, half-starved and pretty clearly abused, and he’s being strenuously hunted. We’ve had three close calls in a week. I had to make a choice, and… you know, I trust you to keep him safe, and I had to get him out of state, as far as I could go. I hate to uproot him when he hadn’t even settled yet, but…”

“Yeah, no, yeah, I get it. I just had a bed open up, Trevor moved in with some roommates in Nevada, did I tell you? All of them former rescues, too, so he’s got good support right there. There’s a coffeeshop owned by someone whose daughter is in the movement who agreed to train him as a barista.”

“Good, good. Trevor’s a good kid, I liked him. This one…” Paul takes a deep breath. “He’s sweet, Nat. But... he’s scared.”

“They all come to us scared,” Nat says, unbothered, giving a shrug and putting her hands in her pockets. “Any memories?”

“Nope. He’s blank, still. I haven’t… he hasn’t even been with us long enough for therapy. But, here, let me introduce you.” Paul steps back, and the young man with the backpack steps forward. He’s wearing the rescue uniform, more or less - sweatpants and a long-sleeved shirt, nearly every ounce of skin covered, only his neck and face visible, the backs of his hands. “He named himself a couple of days ago. This is Antoni.”

He’s like them all, in his way - nervous and wide-eyed, young and beautiful, afraid of her and drawn to her. She can see the signs without even having to consciously notice them - the mop of dark hair in bad need of a good cut, the fear in his eyes, the way he’s skin and bones even underneath the baggy clothes designed to hide a body that didn’t belong to him for too long.

“Hello, m-ma’am,” The boy says, quietly, his dark, slightly feline eyes flickering from her to Paul, seeking reassurance or praise for making the right choice.

Nat’s head cocks to the side, and she notes the way the boy flinches a little at the quick movement. He’s a skittish one - that usually means violence was a part of his daily life, and he’ll need to learn how to live without fearing it. “Does he have…”

“An accent? Yeah. Eastern European or Russian or something. Says he only speaks English, but... sometimes he speaks something else. He doesn’t seem to notice when he does it.” Paul turns, and holds out his hand, gesturing the young man forwards.

Nat watches the boy give a wide berth to Paul’s hand, the way his long fingers clutch more tightly at the backpack strap on one side and the hem of his shirt. He turns to look towards the entrance of the subdivision that never was, watching for cars who might have tracked them, and Nat’s eyes widen - and then she forces her expression back to neutral before the boy can notice - as she sees the bright red, still-healing circular burn on the side of the boy’s neck. “Paul, are we dealing with-”

“Don’t know.” Paul sighs. “Hasn’t even been safe long enough to get a doctor out to give him a checkup. We’ve kept him moving from house to house to house without even taking a deep breath, so… he could use a rest.”

There are deep, deep shadows under the young man’s eyes, settling above his starkly carved cheekbones, and she… she can’t argue with Paul’s assessment. This is a boy who needs a week of sleep, a month of safety, to even begin rebuilding. “Fair enough. You go on ahead, we’ll give it ten or fifteen and then head out.”

“Perfect. I’ll give you a call in a couple days, see how he’s settling in. That sound all right?”

“Works for me.” Natalie watches the new rescue - Antoni - as Paul climbs back into his SUV, turns the key in the ignition, the engine rumbling to nearly-silent life. Antoni doesn’t look back at him like some rescues do, desperate for a final glance. He only steps away, to give the vehicle more space, as Paul gives them one last wave and drives away.

The boy’s expression is unreadable, as Paul’s SUV turns left out of the subdivision, and he disappears into the growing night. She can’t tell if he cares, and she can’t tell if he doesn’t care. There’s nothing in his eyes at all but that same darkness.

Nat sighs. Well, they’ll figure it out as they go, or they won’t. “Okay, Antoni, my name is Natalie Yoder. I’m house mom for a safehouse you’ll be staying in from here on out.”

The boy looks back at her, and his dark eyes are fathomless and deep. “Okay, Natalie Yoder,” He says, and yes, that’s definitely an accent that softens his vowels, changes the consonants a little. She can’t quite name the accent, but… he definitely has one.

“Call me Nat. I live down in the city-” She gestures behind her, vaguely. “And I’ve got a house there with some others like you, all right? We can keep you safe here. You did the first big thing, you walked away. Now it’s up to us to help you with the rest.” She holds out her hand, and - just as she thought - the young man jerks violently backwards, nearly tripping on himself, his shoulders hunched defensively nearly up to his chin.

Nat lets her hand drop.

“I, I do not… touch,” The young man says, clinging to his backpack strap. Nat lets her hand drop, watching the fear tightening his features, setting his jaw to trembling, flashing a hint of his teeth. “Please, please, I do not-... I do not touch.”

Nat puts both hands up in an I’m innocent gesture, taking one step back and then another, giving him some space to get around her. “That’s okay. You don’t have to, not with me and not at the house, not at all.”

The boy stares at her, and the sun is setting rapidly this far up in the hills, taking the hint of golden light that falls across his face and dimming it. “Please,” He whispers, and the sound barely carries to her. “Please, I, I cannot-... please-”

“That’s just fine,” Nat says, pitching her own voice lower, soothing. “You’re still fine, Antoni.” When he doesn’t relax, Nat swallows against her own reflexive distaste and adds, “You’re still a good boy.”

There it is. His shoulders relax, and he lets out a breath, an audible exhale, stepping a little closer to her. “I am? If I do not touch, still?”

Nat presses her lips together, wondering if Paul’s report that this new rescue was a Domestic holds water at all. Not that designations mean shit to people with no empathy and total control over another human being… “Yes, Antoni. You’re still good. Let’s get in the truck and head back, yeah? Can you get in the truck for me? I’ll stay right here.”

Simple, easy directions, and a safe distance. Antoni moves around her to the passenger side of the truck, and she gives him the time he needs, pulling her phone out from her back pocket to text Jake that the new rescue is here, and she’ll be heading home with him shortly.

Cool ok, comes Jake’s fast reply. Kauri’s a mess. Fever’s up and he took all his clothes off and got in bed.

Please don’t tell me your bed.

What do you think? He’s back on the couch and dressed though. I gave him something for the fever. Call Masood in the morning? This shit isn’t strong enough.

Nat knows how that feels.

By the time she gets into the driver’s seat, Antoni has himself settled, seatbelt buckled, hands in his lap, and… his backpack is firmly stuck between the two of them, right in the center of the seat, a slight barrier but a barrier nonetheless.

He’s only been out for two weeks. He probably has some toiletries and a change of clothes or two in there, and that’s it. Maybe a book if he was allowed to remember how to read. But any way of giving himself space is better than no space at all.

When she reaches down to shift gears, Antoni flinches away, pressing himself to the inside of the door, his dark eyes locked on her hand.

“It’s a stick shift,” Nat says, softly. “I’m going to do this a lot. I’m not trying to touch you.”

His eyes move, reluctantly, from her hand to her face. “Please,” He says, and his voice is soft, and perfectly pitched. He’s been trained to beg, Nat thinks - she’s seen that before. She’s heard this voice before. “Please, please do not touch me. I will be good, whatever you need, just… do not touch.”

Nat takes a deep breath and rests her foot on the gas, cautiously moving out of the cul-de-sac and back onto the road, leaving the subdivision that never was, with its overgrown grass and brambles and the hot autumn winds blowing hard enough to rattle the dried-out leaves in the trees, behind.

One new rescue, still sick from an infected wound, who can’t stop trying to touch everything that moves and has tried to talk Jake into bed at least three times - and one new rescue with an unmistakable cigarette burn on his neck who is so scared of being touched he starts begging before Nat can even get him home.

“This should be fun,” She mutters, not aware she’s even spoken aloud.

I am sorry. Antoni mouths the words, but Nat isn’t looking at him, and she doesn’t see him do it. As they drive down the hills towards the city, with its twinkling lights, he watches out the window, looking he hopes towards the north, wondering if he can ever apologize enough to earn forgiveness for the choice he made to leave the woman behind and run.

His right hand moves, pressing into his left arm, rubbing his thumb again and again over a certain spot just inside his wrist, rubbing right through the ribbed knit of the cuff of his sleeve, pressing and pressing and pressing until he feels the healing burn break open again, the bright flash of pain.

He relaxes a little, eyes closing, leaning heavily against the door as Nat turns on the radio and grumbles about what counts as classic rock now.

It’s not that the ashtray, who has chosen the name Antoni, hates being touched.

It’s that he doesn’t deserve touch that doesn’t hurt.

---

Tagging @astrobly, @finder-of-rings, @burtlederp @slaintetowhump @moose-teeth @dhiabori @oofowouchies @doveotions

#antoni sings lullabies #trauma recovery #recovering whumpee #touch aversion #touch averse whumpee #trauma recovery whump #burns tw #scars #scarring #self-injury tw #(reopening a wound)#natalie yoder: here to help the rescues #box boy #box boy universe #box boy multiverse

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