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fanfics-await-you · 2 years

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I never know what to expect from him (Part 5)

Pairing: Poe Dameron/Female OC

Summary: Poe Dameron is your friend, your fellow resistance fighter, but most of all he's a goddamn pain in your ass. And yeah, maybe you're falling for him and well yes, it seems like he's falling for you too, but now REALLY isn't the time.

Tags: angst, a pair of dumbasses unnecessarily complicating things, minor ROS spoilers

notes: I'm aware that it's been Sooooooooo long. sorry lol

Inspired by: @polkanote‘s post & @andhumanslovedstories‘s post

Word Count: 2,092

masterlist

Part 1

Part 2

Part 3

Part 4

“Shut up, let’s go.”

Poe laughs in response but still, he steps towards the door. The med wing’s corridors are deserted, although this isn’t much of a surprise. Besides the exception that I pose, for pilots often there are only two possible outcomes from a space battle: unscathed or dead. Our progress seems agonisingly slow in the brightly lit hallways, but soon enough we’ve escaped. Soon enough, we’ve passed the long corridors of concrete and the cavernous hangars out into the starlight. The sight that greets us is glorious.

Rebels of every species are spread out as far as the eye can see, and they are far more at ease than I have ever seen them. Most are dancing or drunkenly singing along to the vaguely familiar song coming from the nearby band. Others are crowding around a massive bonfire, laughing loudly and occasionally throwing old equipment into the flames.

Some, however, have spared some of the furniture from the fire and are sitting apart from the bustle. I can see, rather than hear, that they are talking but mainly my eyes are drawn to their tight embraces and the occasional glimpses of tears. As much as the adrenaline of everything that has happened is coursing through my blood, the sight of this begins a new ache in my chest.

I don’t even know who’s survived…Oh Maker, where are all the familiar faces? I-

Abruptly, the train of thought is cut off as Poe lightly bumps his nose against my cheek. I look up at him, lost for a moment, and he smiles at me sadly, knowingly. His hand at my hip pulls me even closer and I allow myself to turn so that my forehead rests against Poe’s collarbone. We’re like this for a while, soaking in the music and gathering strength from each other.

Poe’s chest hums against me when he finally speaks, “I’ll be honest with you, Kess…I don’t what tomorrow is going to bring. I don’t even know how many people we’ve lost, and it’s going to hurt when we find out. But for tonight, we’re still alive.”

Poe draws back and looks me in the eyes as he speaks softly, “Kess, we’re still here.”

I take a deep breath, and look towards the sitting figures and then the dancing flames. The stark contradiction feels both natural and wrong, but I know I have no right to judge either. The losses of this war have been unimaginable, but also the relief to see its end is indescribable. Perhaps this is what we are now, grief and triumph as mirror images of the same story.

The words come out steadier than I feel, “You’re right…Despite everything, we’re still here.”

With each new breath, the ache in my heart quiets a little. I know that it will be back soon, but for now I am happy to let it sink away. Breaking our reveries, I nudge Poe with my elbow and tilt my head towards the bonfire. The question is silent, but he understands just fine and responds with a gentle smile and nod. Slowly, we walk towards the warmth and the light.

Blinded by both the massive flames and alcohol, we’ve nearly reached the fire by the time that we’re noticed. Although, as soon as we are seen, the crowd certainly makes up for their distraction with enthusiasm. There’s a roar of cheers and shouts, and suddenly Poe and I are surrounded on all sides. I pull my arm down from Poe’s shoulder slowly in order to shake the dozens of hands that have appeared before me. The loss of complete contact feels wrong, so I lean on Poe against the bustle of people. I think that he hasn’t noticed until his hand at my hip gives me a gentle squeeze. Besides the occasional clap to my shoulder, my grimaces and some angry words from Poe, the ramble is friendly but almost always in motion; faces disappear as soon as they’ve appeared, and voices of greeting overlap each other to the point of nonsense. Poe is steady and grounding. Although he’s constantly shaking hands and calling out greetings, the hand at my hips never leaves and keeps me anchored in this throng of people.

From the crowd a drink is pushed into my hand, but it is almost instantly whisked away by Poe. I look up at him in shocked indignation, but he just winks back.

Poe leans down to whisper in my ear. “You’re on way too many painkillers to be touching alcohol tonight, angel.”

I want to retort, but the low murmur of his voice and how the pet name sounds in Poe’s mouth prove to be a deadly combination. The response evaporates in my throat as the crowd continues to push and pull around us.

I speak far less than Poe, mainly with close friends and members of our squadron. I try to overlook their utter shock to see me, or how tight their grips are when they lean in for a hug. I refuse to dwell on it right now in this snapshot of celebration and life.

Seeming to sense my thoughts’ direction, Poe leans down to whisper into my ear, “You tell me the second you want to leave, alright? Don’t worry about being polite, I’ll cover.”

The warmth of his breath against my neck sends a shiver down my neck but it’s the genuine concern in Poe’s voice that is most moving. Unexpectedly, I find myself choked up. Not trusting my voice, I look back at him and nod but say nothing. As the crowd starts to disperse to leave only a small group clustered around Poe, my attention slips from the conversation. At my hip, Poe’s thumb is drawing slow and sweeping arcs along the hem of my trousers; occasionally, our skin meets, and his touch feels velvety. I look up at Poe’s face while he continues to talk, fascinated by how the flickering of the bonfire plays across his skin. He looks almost carved in the golden light of the fire, like he had been sculpted of clay just like this: perfect and whole and far too exquisite to be holding me so gently.

Involuntarily, my memory returns to a similar party that had seemingly occurred in another lifetime. In actual fact, that night had happened only a few months ago, but it still awoke butterflies in my stomach.

“Because I would follow you anywhere if you’d let me.”

“Poe, I never said that I didn’t want follow you too.”

I continue to stare at Poe as I compare this perfect sculpture to the haunted man who had begged me to survive this war. It’s at this moment that Poe returns my gaze, and he seems caught off guard by what he sees. The hand at my hip stops moving instead to grip me firmly, not that I had ever considered moving away. Someone else speaks. Poe looks at them only for a moment, like they’re a distraction, before looking backing at me. His eyes flick between me and the speaker a few times before he reluctantly turns back to the conversation. I think that the moment has passed until Poe’s grip loosens slightly. While never quite releasing me, his hand slowly moves upwards from my hip. At first, Poe’s hand rests on the hem of my pants while his thumb resumes drawing the softest of arcs back and forth on my skin all the while avoiding looking at me. Then, his fingers gradually slip beneath the material of my shirt until Poe is burning a handprint into the skin of my waist. I don’t move for a moment, unsure how to respond. The warmth of his hand rivals the bonfire, but I would never dream of asking him to let go. Poe’s skin against mine feels like the most natural thing in the world, as if we had always been meant to end up right back here. I savour his touch for a moment more before I know how to respond.

While he speaks on, I draw back the hand closest to him so that it passes over his arm and is hidden behind us. I then gently place the tips of two fingers on the skin just above the collar of Poe’s shirt and quietly enjoy the fact that Poe’s speech falters for a moment. The muscles in his neck tense as I slowly trace up and down his exposed spine whilst occasionally brushing my fingers up into his hair. With a gentle tug on an errant curl that causes Poe to swallow quickly, I draw an unhurried, soft line down to the centre of his shoulders with a single finger. I then splay my hand so that my palm is firmly resting between Poe’s shoulders and I can feel the warmth of his skin through the thin material. At this, Poe flexes his grip against my waist and his thumb resumes drawing its feather-like arcs.

In return, I remove the weight of my hand bar a single fingertip in order to absentmindedly trace out a single sentence across his back. It’s short and somewhat absentminded and is certainly something that I’m not yet ready to speak into existence. Despite this, I still mean every word. However, I can only find the bravery to write it out knowing that surely there’s no way Poe will understand what I’ve written. With the last letter, I replace my palm against his back, and I’m surprised by how tense Poe suddenly is beneath my hand. I look up at him only to find that Poe is already staring at me intently. Surely not. Surely. Surely he couldn’t tell that I wrote ‘I love y-‘

“Could you excuse us, guys? I need to talk to Kess about something.” He is talking to the other pilots, but Poe’s eyes never leave my face.

Oh.

There’s a chorus of the responses that I barely hear before Poe is pulling me away to a quiet spot on the other side of the fire. His hand never breaks contact with my skin, and by the Maker, I hope he can’t feel how unbearably hot I now feel. We just stare at each other for a moment as I pray to whoever’s listening that I have not ruined this before it’s even begun.

“Do you mean it, Kess? ‘Cause I told you that I wouldn’t be able to resist your charms twice,” Poe’s tone is serious despite the warm smile on his face.

Despite my heart’s plea to cry out yes of course, forever and always, it’s always been you, my brain is less ready to show my hand.

“What happened to self-preservation?” I’m half-joking, but also more afraid than I can admit to walk this path again.

Poe shakes his head and leans in as I bask in his intoxicating smell of liquor and smoke, “I was wrong. I know now that survival means nothing if you’re not here to share it.”

Poe presses his forehead against mine. “I will follow you anywhere if you’d let me. I’ll follow you to the end of the universe and back ten times over.”

I want to say something to explain my feelings, but my heart is just so tired of listening to the rational rulings of my head. There are too many words that I need to say, but none of them will ever be enough. So, I settle on the only choice that’s left.

“I love you, Poe Dameron, more than you can know.”

I can taste the smile on his lips as I push up on my toes and finally kiss the man that I have spent years dreaming about. The hand under my shirt pulls me flush against him and Poe’s warmth against me rivals the fire. The years of waiting are all worth it for this reverie of peace and pleasure that I hope will drag on until the end of my days. There are hollers and wolf-whistles rising in the background, but I don’t care. Let them whistle all they like because Poe Dameron is mine.

Poe pulls away slightly to whisper back to me, “I love you.”

I close my eyes to embrace this divine moment as he kisses me again ever so gently.

“I will always love you,” Poe says as his words brush feather-soft against my lips.

It’s against the crook of my neck that he finally whispers, “I will love you until there are no stars left in the sky.”

#poe dameron x reader #poe dameron fanfiction #poe dameron #star wars #star wars fanfiction #my works #poe dameron x oc

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fanfics-await-you · 3 years

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I never know what to expect from him (Part 4)

Pairing: Poe Dameron/Female OC

Tags: angst, a pair of dumbasses unnecessarily complicating things, minor ROS spoilers

notes: Thank you for coming back after so long. It took me far longer than I’d imagined to remember how to write again.

There’s gonna be another part simply because this ended up being so long lol. I’ve written like 80% of the final part so that should be up pretty soon.

Inspired by: @polkanote‘s post & @andhumanslovedstories‘s post

Word Count: 1,913

masterlist

Part 1

Part 2

Part 3

Part 5

Everything damn fucking hurts.

It’s my first coherent thought to rise from the white noise. Stars, I simultaneously need to puke and eat a whole battalion’s worth of rations. I don’t move yet, but allow the pain throughout my body to pulse and subside.

Why do I hurt so much?

I backpaddle through the haze. Exegol…Lightning…Crash…

Ah, yes. Breaking a 5-metre fall with your ribs does that.

The rest is a blank.

There’s a shout in the distance. Although it’s distant, the voice is somehow familiar, and I open my eyes. I’m greeted by the sterile whites of a med room and a flicker of fear blossoms in my chest.

Shit, was I captured?

I quickly look to my wrists for restraints but find nothing. The fear begins to dissolve, but I still have no clue where I am. I hear feet outside the room and attempt to sit u-

“Fuck!” The word bites but is barely audible.

I freeze for a second as I allow my body to air its grievances. Slower, I try again and manage to prop myself up against the pillows. The static is starting to clear, thank the Maker, but my memory is not returning. I guess I’ll just have to wait until someone turns up.

A woman speaks just outside the door, “Don’t wake her, Dameron.”

...

…He’s alive.

The door opens far too slowly to reveal a bare-foot and out of breath Poe. The sight of him clears the rest of the haze while a bright feeling bubbles its way through my chest.

We speak at the same time.

“You’re here.” I am elated that we have both survived Exegol, against the odds.

“You’re alive.” Poe’s voice, however, is barely a whisper, and his face is haunted.

He stands motionless in the doorway as I look at him puzzled.

“Of course, I am. You think a little fall could kill me?” I joke.

Poe still doesn’t move but simply repeats himself.

“Kess, you’re alive,” his voice is scratchy, like he’s been crying.

A chord of worry pulls in my chest, and all I want is to spring out of bed and wrap myself around him. Given the radiating pain still lingering in my chest, I go for the next thing.

I slowly reach out my hand towards him. “Poe? What’s wrong?”

He’s suddenly in motion. Poe takes my hand between his palms and sinks into the chair beside the bed all the while never taking his gaze from my face. As we stare at each other for a moment, I realise that he has been crying and my brow scrunches up in concern.

Gingerly, I place my other hand on his cheek and quietly ask, “Poe, tell me. What happened?”

Poe takes a deep breath and leans into my palm before lowering his gaze to our intertwined hands.

“I watched your X-wing explode into a thousand pieces with no sign of a parachute…Kess, we all thought you were dead,” he says quietly.

A metallic taste, like blood, settles in my mouth as the news of my apparent death sinks in. I want to respond but my tongue has gone dead in my mouth. I simply can’t find the words, so I squeeze his clasped hands and wait for him to continue. Multiple breaths pass before Poe’s ready to continue.

“I- I thought you were dead. I thought that after everything, we had won only for me to lose everything…for me to lose you.”

Poe leans forward to set his elbows on the bed and bring his forehead to rest upon our hands, as if in prayer. It’s only as I notice his hot tears trailing down our fingers that I realise that my eyes are stinging.

“And Kess,” his voice cracks at my name, “It was unbearable. I wanted- I wanted to burn down the entire First Order for daring to even touch you.”

I see Poe’s jaw clench and can feel the shiver of his hands against my skin. Again, all I want to do is wrap my arms around him but still, I let him finish.

Poe’s voice shakes, “But afterwards, when we returned in triumph, it became so much worse. Because I had let you go. Because it all meant nothing without you. Because I had failed you.”

We sit in silence for a moment as the weight of his words sink in. My tears finally fall and something like guilt is throbbing against my sternum. Thank the Maker, at least this time I know what to say. I bring the hand that had drifted to Poe’s shoulder up to his chin and make him lift his head to meet my eyes.

“Never,” I say, “in all the time that I have known you, Poe Dameron, have you ever failed me. Never. Do you understand me?”

He just shuts his eyes.

I speak again, more sternly, “Never, Poe, do you hear me?”

Poe doesn’t respond, but nods slightly.

“I’m sorry things turned out the way they did, but look at me, Poe. I’m still here.”

Poe just grasps my hand tighter.

I brush away the few tears that still cling to his face. “Poe.”

He finally opens his eyes and I whisper out the words, “I’m still here.”

Poe smiles slightly and the world feels a little bit more right. We sit in silence for a while, just gazing at each other, before a question arises out of something he’s said.

“Wait, so did we win? Did we take out the fleet?” I say.

Poe looks at me in confusion, “You don’t remember?”

I shrug, “I remember an explosion that blew out my chute, and then hitting the ground hard. The rest is black. I don’t know how I got here.”

He shakes his head in surprise and disbelief for a second. Poe then releases my hand in order to cradle my face between his palms. His face is covered in the hugest grin.

Out of instinct, I smile slightly back, “What? What is it?”

“Yeah, we took out the Exegol fleet. And the whole First Order… Kessandra, we won the war.”

I’m dumbfounded.

I open my mouth, but my lips form silent words and nothing come out. Poe continues to smile but also raises a single finger to the air, asking me to pause. I just stare back at him as he tilts his head slightly towards the door.

“Can you hear the music?” Poe whispers, and I turn my attention beyond the quiet of the med wing.

Faintly, but clearly, the song of strings and the low beating of drums can just be heard. Above them both, a muted chorus of singing, clapping, and laughter finds its way to us. In that second, it truly sinks in.

We won?

I clap a hand to my mouth and Poe excitedly nods in response.

“The war is over, Kess. We won.”

In spite of the pain that still loiters in my chest, I throw my arms around him and bury my face in his neck. He hugs me back and laughs quietly as he holds me. We sit, intertwined, as I try to understand what has happened. The thoughts keep spinning and whirling through my head as I struggle to fully comprehend what they mean. Suddenly, two things become crystal clear to me.

I don’t want to leave Poe’s side ever again.

I need to get out of this room.

“Let’s get out of here.”

Poe pulls back in order to look me in the face.

A snort slips out of his mouth, “You’re serious?”

I roll my eyes. “Of course I am. If we just won the war, then I’m not staying in this room a moment longer.”

A twinge of concern appears on Poe’s face. “Kess, you’re injured. You need to rest.”

I lightly push him back and go to push the blanket back before pausing. Subtly, I check something. Ah yes, I’m wearing pants. Good first step.

Poe places a hand on my shoulder before I can try to move again and looks at me seriously.

I place a hand over his, but don’t back down. “This is a night that will go down in history. I’m not missing it for a few cracked ribs.”

He looks close to relenting but not quite convinced, so I smile and speak softly, “I’ll be alright, Poe. You’ll pick me up if I fall, right?”

I can see the smile in his eyes, and I know that it’s going to be fine. With every passing breath, I feel a little more like myself and so, I do what comes naturally: order Poe around.

“Alright, you go find us some shoes while I get up. Also, don’t let the nurse-bots see you, you remember how that went last time we tried to sneak out.” I laugh as he sits back slightly and rolls his eyes.

Poe stands and gives a mock salute. “Yes, right away, boss.”

I watch with a smile as he disappears out the door. Slowly, I begin the process of pushing back the blankets and placing my feet on the ground. Thankfully, although my whole body is aching, only my ribs are really giving me grief. Sure, everything’s going to hurt like I’ve been run over by a tank tomorrow, but that’s not my problem right now. I lightly stretch as I better survey the extent of the damage.

“You look about ready to run a marathon,” Poe’s voice is gently mocking as he closes the door behind him.

“You know, if there was something in reach, I’d be pegging it at your head right about now.”

“If you’re dealing out threats like that, maybe I should keep the shoes.”

“Would you just shut up and get over here and help me.”

“Anything for my favourite girl.”

I roll my eyes at the endearment, but it blossoms a warm but equally longing glow inside my chest. Poe sits at the chair and gently pulls one of my feet into his lap. I stare at him in comfortable silence as he tenderly puts my shoes on. For a couple of breaths after, we sit like this with his hands resting on my calves before Poe evidently remembers our plan.

With a shake of his head, he slowly places my feet on the ground before standing. “C’mon party animal, isn’t there somewhere we’re supposed to be?”

Poe extends his hands as an anchor, which I use to pull myself to standing. I sway slightly, and quickly one of Poe’s hands goes to my hip to steady me. In one way it works, and the horizon stops moving. On the other hand, my knees feel a little bit weaker, and I might be blushing. Ignoring the heat in my cheeks, I nod my head to signal that I’m ready. Poe releases my hand and steps so that he’s standing beside me. In the process of doing this, the hand steadying me draws a caressing line across the small of my back in order to rest upon the other side of my hip. Shit, I’m definitely blushing now. I glance at Poe and see that he’s grinning back at me. He did that on purpose. Jackass. Nonetheless, the pressures of his hands are more than welcome as Poe drapes my closest arm across his shoulders.

“You comfy, Kess?” His tone is teasing.

I shake my head in joke annoyance. “Shut up, let’s go.”

#poe dameron x reader #poe dameron fanfiction #poe dameron #star wars #star wars fanfiction #my works

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fanfics-await-you · 4 years

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Poe Dameron is an Idiot?

Poe Dameron X Fem!Reader

A/N: I’m proud of myself for getting through my Writers Block™ to present to you this! - Nemo

Warning(s): Some language. Poe being an idiot.

Summary: Poe Dameron is the poster boy of the Resistance. However - just like any human being to ever function properly - he has his more embarrassing moments too.

Masterlist

Just watching Poe, and the amount of pure bullshit he pulls off or gets up to, should be a job in itself.

Everyone who doesn’t know him would think he’s just some flashy Resistance pilot. And they’d be right. That’s exactly what he looks like.

Everyone who has met him, briefly, or as an enemy, would tell you he had a smart mouth and cocky demeanor to go with the pilot flair. Again, they would be right.

But anyone who had met him, and gotten to know him on a more friendly-basis, knows he’s actually a sweetheart. A bit of a douche, sometimes, but defielty still a sweetheart. One of the most caring people you’d meet. Peridot.

However - and this is a huge however - if you know Poe behind closed doors, away from the crowds, and outside his X-Wing cockpit, you would know him as someone else entirely.

An absolute, once in a lifetime, idiot.

Keep reading

#this is hella cute and funny #its half inspiring me to starr writing again #other people's work #other people

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fanfics-await-you · 4 years

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#oh mood

9K notes · View notes

fanfics-await-you · 4 years

Text

I never know what to expect from him (Part 3)

Pairing: Poe Dameron/Female OC

Tags: angst, a pair of dumbasses unnecessarily complicating things, minor ROS spoilers

notes: sorry it took so long, i'm bad at this lol. also I get the fleet is stretch but idc my dudes. Also, you KNOW that poe is a dramatic bitch, like plz. and yes, another part is coming.

Inspired by: @polkanote‘s post & @andhumanslovedstories‘s post

Word Count: 1,991

masterlist

Part 1

Part 2

Part 4

Part 5

Everything is black; the sky, the parachute above me, and the earth beneath that's threatening to swallow me as I draw closer and closer. My downward climb has started to slow, and I pull at the strings to try and control my landing. I spy a fleet of grounded enemy fighters and angle towards them. The lightning's gone but I still feel an awful ghost of the choking sensation.

I'm almost on the ground, just a little more, c'mon-

BOOM!

I hear a deafening explosion from above me just before its tumultuous heat and force hits me as a wall. It sends me flying down for the last few metres of my descent.

---

I'm not sure if I blacked out at all but holy shit did that fall hurt. My head's bleeding and some ribs are definitely cracked but I'm alive.

Now I've just got to keep it that way.

I roll over onto my back and stare up at the night sky; it is almost completely blotted out by ships.

I don't remember there being that many s- wait…

Despite myself and the pain in my chest, I can't help but raise my fist in the air and shout, "They came! The Resistance came!"

The sky is filled to every corner with Resistance ships of every size and standard and colour, and it is a sight like no other. This spark of hope gives me the strength to clamber to my feet and start towards the fighters.

---

I'm climbing into the nearest fighter when the terrible screech of tearing metal freezes me in my tracks. I look up to see a First Order Star Destroyer swiftly plunge into the earth, and seconds later a powerful shockwave almost knocks me to the ground. My head is still painfully ringing and for a second, I can't move. Then the moment passes, and it subsides. I scan the fight above and see more Destroyers are falling to the guns of our fleet.

While this brings me great joy, it also means that I am running out of time. I scramble up into the cockpit and start the engine.

More and more Star Destroyers are crashing into the black earth, sending up dust that clouds my vision and setting off earthquakes that shake the entire ship. Just as I get the fighter to hover off the ground, I'm cloaked in shadow. I don't want to look up, already knowing what's coming, but I can't help it. A massive Destroyer is hurtling towards me and I need to move now. I push the throttle and shoot forwards. Right now, I'm not so concerned with up so much as with surviving.

---

I'm transmitting my call sign on every frequency, but it seems Resistance fighters aren't willing to look past the insignia of the side of my ship. I sharply ascend to avoid a crashing Destroyer only to be met by friendly fire. As much as I want to stick around to see this battle through, I need to get out of here before I'm shot down by my own side. The rapid turns and evasions are also making me feel like my head is going to explode.

As I fly, I try to spot Poe's X-wing but there is too much chaos. You better still be airborne, Poe Dameron. I still have a lot to say to you, asshole.

Suddenly, I see a patch of clear sky and gun the engine while still trying to shake the Resistance X-wing on my tail. I break through the atmosphere and start punching in the coordinates for Ajan Kloss. Thankfully, the X-wing quickly returns to battle, evidently more concerned with the remaining Star Destroyers than a sole First Order deserter. The static ringing of unconsciousness is resonating around my head, calling me to let go, but I can't stop, not yet.

If I pass out here, my own friends will shoot me out of the sky.

I enter the last number and start the jump to lightspeed. The kaleidoscope of lights has barely begun before I finally slip into the black.

---

"I repeat, unregistered fighter, do not enter atmosphere or you will be shot down!"

Why…Why would I be shot down?...Who's shooting me?...

"First Order TIE Fighter, if you enter Ajan Kloss airspace, you will be shot down!"

Wait…First Order…Shit!

"Wait! This is X-wing pilot Kessandra James, call sign Black Eight. My X-wing was shot down over Exegol. Please don't shoot me." The words are slightly slurred.

"Kessandra? I- Ok, I'm going to need confirmation. What's your pilot code?"

I… I can't remember.

"I- Uh- 178...4…9? I'm going to be honest with you, I think I have a concussion and I can't remember. Please don't shoot."

"Crap, ok...Well- that's close, um- you can land but- you step out of line and we will take you down."

"Duly noted, sir, and sorry if I screw up the landing."

The time between being in orbit and landing on the Ajan Kloss runway passes in a colourful blur. I do land alright (how exactly, I'm really not sure) and flick open the hatch before even killing the engine. Eventually, the drive does fall silent and I'm thankful for the lull. Maker, I'm so tired.

"Kessandra!" The voice is very distant and indistinct.

"Kessandra James, call sign Black Eight… Are the other pilots back?" I just can't keep my eyes open.

"Kess, you're hurt!"

"Where is Poe? Is he safe?"

Someone is speaking but I can't understand them. I'm home. But where's Poe? He better be alright. I don't know what to do if he's not.

"Poe…Where's Poe?" I close my eyes and sink into the awaiting darkness.

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

The homecoming to Ajan Kloss is bittersweet. The First Order is dead but what we lost…I don't know if I can bear it. I'm so thankful for Finn beside me; I let him take all questions and congratulations while I silently nod and attempt to smile. Normally, I can act like the others; celebrate the living now and ask forgiveness from the dead later. But Kess is gone and I'm not sure how much meaning there is left in the universe without her.

What's the point of surviving the war if home's nothing but ashes?

When I see Rey amongst the crowd, bloodied but very much alive, for a second everything's ok. Finn and I sprint towards her and we envelope each other. Amidst the chaos, we stay that way for a little while, just holding each other tightly.

"I'm so sorry, Poe," Rey's voice is grief-stricken.

I pull away to look Rey in the face. There are tears streaming down her face and for a second, I can't say it. I can't say the words and make it true.

"First Leia and now- I was so close and then she just-" I crack.

I can't bear to look at either of them as the tears start, "What am I supposed to do?! Kess- She- She's dead!"

As I drop to my knees and feel the grief sink into my chest, Rey and Finn follow me and hold me close while I weep for what I've lost.

---

It turns out that being alone is worse. I can hear the voices of those who will never return from Exegol and the gentle memories feel like accusations of guilt. But loudest of them all, the one that echoes off the walls of my empty room, is Kess' laugh. It always made me smile but now it's just causes my chest to ache.

I can't bear the quiet. "I told you that you had to survive, Kess…Now I don't know what to do without you."

The silence offers no answer. It feels like a condemning witness, reminding me that this is inevitable, that I will always end up alone. Numbly, I turn on the music player to break the still. The opening strings of a waltz begins, and a memory rises without warning.

---

"I told you that I can't dance, Poe." Kess seems slightly shy about the fact.

Her hair is loose around her shoulders for once and she looks glorious. I catch myself reaching up touch it and instead offer my hand.

"That's just because you never had an excellent teacher like myself."

Kess rolls her eyes. "One day that ego is going to bite you the ass, you know that?"

My tone is honey sweet, "That's why I keep you around to keep me in check, my dear Kess,"

She huffs in faux annoyance but steps forward to take my hand anyway. The warmth of her hand is intoxicating, and I draw her closer automatically. As we gently bump into each other, Kess raises a curious eyebrow and I'm lost in her eyes for a moment. She squeezes my hand, and I'm back.

I squeeze back. "Let's begin. I'll make a dancer of you yet."

---

I lay back onto the bed slowly as the music drifts over me. I can feel the ghost of her as Kess' gentle laughter starts the tears all over again.

"Poe, I don't want to stand on your feet, I'll hurt you!"

"Don't worry about me, Kess, you can't hurt me."

"Poe, you-"

There's a series of sharp knocks on the door.

Finn's voice is faint through the metal, "Poe, I know you're in there. It's me, open up!"

The hint of urgency in his voice has me immediately on my feet. Please don't let the First Order be on its way. I don't think I have the strength. The door slides open with a clang. The fear loosens its grip on my heart when I see the massive smile on his face.

"She's alive, Poe! Kess is alive!"

…

I grab Finn by the shoulders to stay upright. My head is filled with white noise and my mouth won't work.

"I was in the medical wing with Rey and Dr Tsuana, you know her, she asked me-"

I cut him off by shaking him. "You're sure? Finn, are you sure? Because I can't- If she's not- I…" My voice trembles and trails off.

Steadily, Finn cradles my face so I'm forced to look him in the eye and nods.

"I saw her with my own eyes, Poe. She's unconscious but is going to be alright. Poe, Kess is alive!"

It takes a couple of seconds to properly compute, to sink in, and for my heart to tentatively accept it.

Alive?

Alive.

Shaking Finn off, I start running. I don't care that I'm barefoot, all that matters is that Kess is alive. I can hear Finn yelling behind me but I'm not waiting. The people that see me coming jump out of the way and shout out questions as I run past. The ones that don't are pulled out of the way by their friends. Finn is offering answers and excuses in my trail of disorder but I'll deal with the consequences later. I push through the medical wing door with a slam.

I shout at the nearest orderly, "Where is Kessandra James?!"

He meekly points down the corridor and I'm off again. As I round the corner, a hand grabs my wrist and I turn to see Dr Tsuana.

Her tone is measured, "She's just down here. You need to slow down, General, this is no place to run…Follow me."

Despite every instinct telling me to go, I fall into pace beside her. She slowly (so damn slowly) walks down the passage until reaching a non-descript door.

"Don't wake her, Dameron." Dr Tsuana turns away.

My heart's racing but I suddenly find that I'm nervous to open the door. There is this heavy fear in my stomach that there's been a mistake, that I'll open the door and someone who's not Kess will be there. To lose her once was one thing, but twice… I push away the thought and open the door.

#poe dameron x reader #poe dameron fanfiction #poe dameron #star wars #star wars fanfiction #my works

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fanfics-await-you · 4 years

Text

I never know what to expect from him (Part 2)

Pairing: Poe Dameron/Female OC

Tags: angst, a pair of dumbasses unnecessarily complicating things, minor ROS spoilers

notes: yeah, it’s been a bit, sorry. Yes, there are literally overlapping themes/lines with the last thing I wrote but I will not apologise. I write what I write lol. I also thought of the quote from the Christmas movie in here when it was Christmas time, so it’s fine. Also, it’s been awhile since I’ve seen the movie now so if anything’s wrong sorry, I’m going off memory. I genuinely cannot remember like anything about the general fleet after the lightning happened?

Inspired by: @polkanote‘s post & @andhumanslovedstories‘s post

Word Count: 1,642

masterlist

Part 1

Part 3

Part 4

Part 5

I would follow you anywhere…

The noise of the party continues to pound in my ears like a drumbeat. I don’t move. A moment passes, and then another. I try to find the words to describe the flurry that is going on in my mind. Poe saves me the trouble.

“I shouldn’t have said that.”

I can’t take my eyes from his face. Poe’s expression is tight with tension and his eyes are troubled.

He speaks again, “I shouldn’t-I shouldn’t have put you in this position, I’m-I’m sorry.”

My mind finally catches up to the situation as he pulls away from my touch. The absence of Poe’s warmth at my side spurs me to action. As he takes a step away, my hand darts out to grab his arm. As Poe turns around, my hand slides down his forearm until our fingers are touching.

“Poe, I don’t understand.”

“I know, I shouldn’-“

“No, I don’t understand why you’re leaving.”

I intertwine our fingers and then use my grip to pull him closer. Poe’s face is conflicted, but he doesn’t fight me.

The words come out as a whisper, “I never said that you couldn’t come with me.”

His breath catches slightly before Poe turns away and pulls his hand from mine to distractedly push his hair away from his face. His rejection stings but I don’t let it stop me; for once, when it comes to Poe, I am feeling brave. I step towards him so that we’re almost touching and place my hand in the middle of Poe’s chest. He looks at me in surprise and then down at my hand. I can feel the quick thump-thump of his heart beneath my fingers and all I want to do is sink into his warmth.

“Poe.” He doesn’t meet my eyes.

I speak again, “Poe.”

His gaze finally finds mine, and everything that I’ve been dying to tell him tumbles out in the form of a single, breathy sentence.

“Poe, I never said that I didn’t want follow you too.”

He closes his eyes for a moment, like he’s fortifying himself, before gently taking my hand from its place on his chest. Then, steadily like he might startle me, Poe adjusts it so that my palm faces the ground. He raises my hand upwards and places my knuckles against his mouth for a moment.

He murmurs against my fingers, “Kess, it’s not that I don’t want this.”

Slowly, always slowly, Poe cradles my hand against his chest.

He speaks softly, “In fact, all I want to do most days is grab you and get on the next freighter out of here…The thought of you being mine but getting hurt anyway- I- I-” He trails off.

I can almost sense what he’s about to say next before he even starts speaking; mainly because the same thought is playing in my head.

“And that’s exactly why this can’t happen. I can’t give myself the choice between you and the Resistance.”

With a quiet exhale, he lets go of my hand.

“Because if I’m honest…I need to be here but I’m always going to want to choose you.”

I want to fight him. I want to say he’s wrong. I want to be selfish and demand that he stays right here in front of me. Most of all, I want to say fuck the Resistance if it means that I lose you. But that’s exactly it, that’s the problem. What’s more, I gave up the right to be selfish the day I signed my name on the dotted line and became a soldier. So, I say the only thing that there’s really left to say; the one thing that my thumping heart is telling me not to do.

“I understand.”

Poe closes his eyes and nods slightly, like he’s in pain.

“But I just need to you to know one thing.”

He opens his eyes and for a second, I can’t say it because it feels too much like goodbye. I want to forget my responsibilities and just want to drown in the warmth of his eyes and mouth and hands and-

“Given the chance, I’d follow you to the end of the universe and back ten times over,” my tone is steady despite the fact that I feel lost at sea.

Poe’s sad smile is like a stab to the stomach, but I force myself to keep my hands at my side as much as I want to pull him closer.

“We can’t do this again, can we…I don’t think that I’d be able to resist your charms twice,” his tone attempts to be playful but just sounds ragged.

Poe’s gaze doesn’t leave my face as he takes one small step backwards, and then another. Every step feels like another mile between us that I don’t think we’re ever going to be able to cross. I want to say but I can’t lose you completely, that some days the thought of your smile is the only thing that keeps me going.

As if he can hear me, Poe throws one last line over his shoulder with a soft chuckle as he turns away, “Call it self-preservation.”

I only find something to say once his figure has melted back into the party that I had all but forgotten. It doesn’t mean anything now that he’s gone, but I say it anyway.

“Goodbye, Poe. Maybe in a better life.”

---

“I’m hit! I repeat, Black Eight is hit! One wing is compromised. I am losing altitude!”

Radio silence is all that responds.

Forks of lightning are everywhere, and the world feels wrong; this choking, paralytic intensity is clawing its way through my chest. I’m battling the controls but it’s useless. A laser cannon blast tore through my left wing not a minute ago, causing me to dive, and these unnatural bolts of lightning have robbed me of any remaining ability to steer. The ground is getting closer and closer and the goddamn parachute is increasingly seeming like the only option left. I’ll be a great big target for First Order guns, and I have a better chance of being hit by an errant X-wing than hitting the ground, but what’s my choice? Definitely burning to a crisp in this earth-bound hunk of metal or only maybe being shot to pieces? I’ll take a small chance over none any day.

I try the comms again, “Can anyone hear me? Black Eight has lost control and is diving! I’m going to bail!”

Again, only silence.

All Resistance ships are dropping, but thanks to my damaged wing the black earth is coming up on me fast. Fuck, I have to go now or I’m gonna be hitting the ground hard either way.

“I don’t know if anyone can hear me but I’m bailing. Any assistance is welcome!”

…

I’m alone.

“Fuck!”

With that, I pull on the oxy mask and pull the eject lever. I’m violently thrown from my fighter and the world spins beyond my control as the chute struggles to open. My sight alternates feverishly fast between streaks of purple light and black earth, and all I can hear the screaming rush of the air around me.

Why isn’t my goddamn shoot opening?!?

Then suddenly the light stops and my sight is swallowed by black.

---

The lightning suddenly disappears, and I wrestle back control of my X-wing.

“What the hell was that?!? Command, what’s the situation?! Black Squadron, report!”

Quickly, a few names (heart-sickeningly too few) sound off but there is one particular absence that stops my heart.

“Anyone got eyes on Kess?”

It’s Jess who responds finally responds, her tone tight, “Poe…her fighter took damage before the lightning…it didn’t look good.”

In an instant, I can’t breathe. This cockpit is too constricting as I desperately try to spot her X-wing in this mess of a battlefield. The general in me continues barking out orders and the pilot keeps shooting down Final Order freighters, but the simple man in me is distraught. My eyes keep darting from ship to ship, trying to spot her. It’s only when I dive steeply to avoid the debris of a freighter do I finally see Kess’s ship. The flicker of relief in seeing her airborne is quickly swallowed by dismay as I notice how quickly she’s plummeting. Automatically, I push my controls in a deep dive towards her.

“KESS!”

The two-way channel just hisses a static that sets my nerves on fire.

“Kessandra! Kess, answer me!”

It’s like I’m watching in slow-motion as the scene unfolds: I’m gaining speed on her, thinking maybe I can help or do something when suddenly there’s a massive explosion in the nose of her fighter. Within a moment, the entire X-wing has blown apart and is raining debris on a fleet of grounded ships. My world has gone absolutely silent but I can feel Kess’s name ripping out my throat. It burns with all the things I never told her and now will never have the chance. I repeatedly beat the console in front of me and beg someone to help her, to help me, but there’s no one who can change things and now there’s nothing left to do. She’s gone, she’s gone, oh Maker she’s dead. I vaguely hear someone through the comms, but their words are hazy and I can’t understand them. For a second, all I want to do is let go, to plummet downwards to stop the heavy ache in my chest that is threatening to consume me. Then through all the grief, the blazing and white-hot fury of everything that I have lost sweeps over me like a tsunami. I clench my hands around my controls and fly back into the battle. I steel my voice despite the tears streaming down my cheeks.

“Let’s burn these fuckers to the ground!”

#poe dameron x reader #poe dameron fanfiction #poe dameron #star wars #star wars fanfiction #fanfiction #my works

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fanfics-await-you · 4 years

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the-ldsgirlinthebooks replied to your post “Sometimes It Comes Down to a Choice (Part 4)”

Oh my gosh. Girl, what the heck!!! You just smashed my heart right now with so much fluff. Thank you for it. I love yoi. I need more Pike in this world ��

oh my god, thanks!!!! you’re so welc!!! maybe some more pike in the future but I need a good prompt!!!

#the-ldsgirlinthebooks #my works

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fanfics-await-you · 4 years

Text

I never know what to expect from him (Part 1)

Pairing: Poe Dameron/Female OC

Tags: angst, a pair of dumbasses unnecessarily complicating things, minor ROS spoilers

notes: It’s been awhile, sorry! Yes, I just saw ROS, had to do something for POE! I have classes so idk when the next update will be lol

Inspired by: @polkanote‘s post & @andhumanslovedstories‘s post

Word Count: 1,835

masterlist

Part 2

Part 3

Part 4

Part 5

I never know what to expect from him. I mean, what can you expect from a man like Poe Dameron?

Consistency? Never.

Wit? Always at the worst times.

Patience? Who am I kidding.

Another explosion goes off behind us and I stumble for a moment on my injured leg. Almost instantly, an arm is around my shoulders, guiding me. I flash Poe a look but all he does is grin.

“What? You thought I was gonna leave my favourite girl?”

I shake my head at him but just keeping run as the earth continues to shake.

So maybe there is one thing that you can always count on with Poe; the one thing beneath all the layers of ego and hotheadedness and never-ending flirting that keeps me working with him.

Poe will never, ever leave a friend behind.

–

“Next time you do that, Dameron, I would appreciate a warning. Even better, next time don’t use an entire canister of blaster gel and bring down the mountain while we’re still under it!”

Poe stops his work for just a moment to flaunt his signature smile, but I roll my eyes and try to ignore the way my heart skips a beat.

“Look Kess, one day you will finally admit that I just have a natural talent for these things, and you’ll thank me for the unique honour that is working by my side. Now, stop moving while I try to patch up your le-Ow! What was that for?!”

I wind up for another punch and his hands raise in self-defence.

“It’s really funny how you can talk about my leg that was injured in an explosion and how good you are making things explode in the same sentence. I have no idea why I didn’t laugh.”

“I’m sorry, Kess.”

I lean my head back against the ship hull. “I’m sure I’ll pay you back for it.”

I don’t really hold it against him, accidents happen (this is a war, after all). Anyway, this is our thing, this repartee and back-and-forth, it’s who we are. This is what we’re famous for; well, this and blowing up a Star Destroyer with a rigged pleasure cruiser (Don’t ask, it’s a long story.)

“No Kess, I really am sorry,” Poe’s tone is serious.

I really don’t want him to feel guilty, so I shrug and try to play it off. “Don’t worry about it, what’s one new scar to a hundred old ones.”

A moment passes, then a warm hand touches my chin and gently guides it downwards. My eyes come to rest on Poe, his face uncharacteristically sober and tinged by guilt. The warmth of his fingers remain on my face and they coil tendrils of tenderness beneath my skin.

“I would never intentionally put you in harm’s way.”

“Poe, I kno-”

“Never. I was reckless today-”

“It’s fine! Wh-”

“I should’ve been more careful, you could have been seriously hurt-”

“What’s got into you?” I finally cut him off as I take his hand into mine. “Poe, stuff like this is an occupational hazard. Don’t go beating yourself up because you can’t do the precise calculations for blaster gel quantities while running from troopers. I really am sorry if you thought I was actually blaming you…I was kidding, I’m sorry.”

I grasp his hand tightly, hoping he understands. Poe shifts his hand so that our fingers become intertwined.

He takes a second before speaking, “I know, Kess. It’s just…you were right…You’re always right, you know.”

Poe smiles a little, but his mouth is still tight with tension. Without thinking, I place my free hand against his smooth and surprisingly warm cheek. Ever-so-slightly, Poe leans into it without taking his eyes from my face.

I smile as best I can despite the growing tension I feel in the air, “Of course I’m right, I’m always right: you know that. So when I say you’re not allowed to beat yourself up over this, you’re not.”

The grin finally reaches Poe’s eyes, just a little. “I know, it’s just that…”

He trails off only to take both my hands into his. Poe stares at our interwoven fingers and gently clasps them together so my palms are pressed together between his in silent prayer. We’re so close now that I can see the flashes of deep amber that hide in the depths of his brown eyes. There is something Poe wants to say, something that is weighing him down; I can see it in the nervous biting of his lip that I can’t tear my eyes away from. The tension is oppressive now and I’m about to ask to say something, anything, when he finally draws breath to speak.

“Kessandra,” he says my full name delicately, like it might break if he speaks too loudly, “I- there’s something…I- I-”

He cuts off by the loud beep signifying the end of our lightspeed journey. We both jump. The fertile green atmosphere of Ajan Kloss crystallises before us. The comms have started up again, rambling on about landing codes and permissions.

“I should,” Poe takes a deep breath, “I should bring us down.”

The moment is well and truly over. He doesn’t move for a moment, he just resumes staring down at our enfolded hands. I find that I don’t want Poe to let go; he does anyway.

As he guides us into orbit, the ghost of his touch continues to linger on my hands and a heavy feeling settles in my heart.

—-

If there’s one thing that Resistance fighters know how to do (besides kick fascist ass), it’s how to throw a damn good party. Add in the fact that one of the engineers figured out how to make moonshine out of local tree sap (it took a lot of ugly trial and error), and a good time is basically guaranteed. Also, (not that any of us would say it), knowing that any night might be your last makes letting go and having fun just that little bit easier.

The sound of a Kitonak guitar drifts on the wind and my head is warm with the buzz of liquor. Everyone is dancing and laughing, and it is a glorious sight to see. These last couple months have been tough, even tougher than usual, and it’s so good to see people just enjoying a second of peace.

“What are you doing all the way over here?” Poe’s voice is barely audible over the noise of the party.

I don’t look at him but just smile to myself, “I was taking a second to enjoy the evening.”

“May I join you?”

I laugh. “Since when have you needed my permission to do something?”

“You’re right but it never hurts to ask, you know.”

Before I can respond, Poe is right by my side. He too leans up against the wall, and then bumps his arm against mine. Instead of returning the gesture, I gently rest my head against his shoulder and continue to look out upon the people dancing. A moment passes before the weight of his arm curls around my waist. I allow myself to enjoy this moment, and don’t even stop myself when my imagination begins to stir as to what this moment could be if things were different…Just an ordinary party on a ordinary night in the arms of a more than extraordinary man…

“What you thinkin’ about Kess?”

I push all the what if’s back to the pit of my stomach as I struggle to think of a lie, “Oh you know, the usual.”

Poe chuckles softly and it resonates into my side. The sound is deep and low, and causes my heart to skip a beat.

“I know you, and you are anything but ‘usual’. What’s on your mind?”

It’s probably the alcohol but I just want to tell him. I want to tell him everything. I just want to shout it all to the summer sky, that I’m thinking about you, Poe, and it seems like all I do is think about you these days! I’m falling for you, but you won’t ever look at me that way. The thought of never seeing you again is enough to make me cry. The knowledge that one day I will lose you to someone else breaks my heart. I don’t say any of this, however.

“The future. What I’ll do when this is all over.” It’s not exactly a lie but it still feels wrong.

“Have you got big plans? Intergalactic pod-racer? Smuggler? Chancellor of the New Republic?”

This time, I laugh with him and gently shake my head against Poe’s shoulder.

“Nothing as exciting as that. I think if I survive this, that will be enough for me. I’ll go find a quiet, green planet in a remote part of the system and fix up old ships. Anyway, it’s not like the Resistance is going to need a ton of pilots when there’s no more fighter jets to send out. Nah, peace’ll be enough for me, I reckon.”

It’s the truth. After years with my neck on line and waiting for countless friends who never come back home, being alive will be enough. Waking up every morning knowing that the people I care about are safe? That’ll do for me.

“That sounds like a damn good plan, Kess,” there is a touch of longing to his voice.

I hum in agreement and close my eyes. For a while, I just enjoy the music and the feeling of Poe’s arm around my waist.

“There’s no ‘if’ though, Kess. You’ve gotta survive this one.”

I laugh but don’t open my eyes. “I’m trying my absolute hardest, promise.”

His response is softly spoken, “No, you have to, Kess. I don’t know what I’d do without you.”

I freeze up for a second out of surprise, but Poe speaks again before I can respond.

“I mean, uh- How am I meant to figure out what to do after all this without your voice of reason to guide me?” His joking tone has returned, but it sounds forced.

Before I can think, I’m speaking, “You could just come with me.”

My eyes fly open. The words hang in the air without a response and I feel like a fool. Oh, you absolute idiot, that’s not what he meant. Motherfu-

“Yeah?”

Poe’s voice is heavy with emotion and cracks slightly under it. Confused, I turn to look Poe in the eye to find him already gazing back at me. In the name of the Maker, our faces are so close. There is something in his expression that I can’t read but it still tells in every line of his face. What…

“I could come with you?”

I want to yell out yes, of course, I’m begging you but all I do is silently nod.

I don’t understand why Poe is acting like this? Is he drunk? Has there been bad news? What-

“Because I would follow you anywhere, if you’d let me.”

Oh?

Oh.

#poe dameron fanfiction #poe dameron #star wars #star wars fanfiction #poe dameron x reader #my works

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fanfics-await-you · 5 years

Text

pining is 100000% the most important aspect of pre-relationship fic for me. good-natured whole-hearted pining filled with lovelorn gazing and chest aching and fluttering touches, that’s my top priority. i was put on this earth to watch characters suffer over the profundity of their love for another person. unrequited love is why god made me. characters finding out that their feelings are reciprocated after long months/years of suffering is why the universe was assembled from nothingness. amen.

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fanfics-await-you · 5 years

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cliché but classic trope: when the person who almost died wakes up in a hospital bed, looks around and sees the object of their affection sleeping uncomfortably in the chair next to them because they haven’t moved in days.

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fanfics-await-you · 5 years

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y’all… u dont understand how much writing in the tags of someone’s creation means to them.. whether it’s fanart, a graphic, fanfic..,, there’s a 99% chance that person looks through their tags and a single opinionated comment in the tags can rlly brighten their day it’s just a rlly wonderful thing to see

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fanfics-await-you · 5 years

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carrie-85 replied to your post “Sometimes It Comes Down to a Choice (Part 4)”

Hey! Ohh, this was so worth the wait! I absolutely loved it, I holded my breath while reading it! And those beautiful happyend��. Thank you so much for that amazing story!

I’m so glad you enjoyed it! It took awhile but here we are!

#carrie-85

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fanfics-await-you · 5 years

Text

Sometimes It Comes Down to a Choice (Part 4)

Pairing: Christopher Pike x Female OC

Takes place some point in the future after the events of the Red Angel

Summary: Alina has always carried a secret flame for her Captain and she's always known that it could never lead anywhere. However, the combination of a party and some drunken words might just make that a little more complicated. The only problem, everything just seems to be going wrong. Who knows, maybe a proper goodbye is just what they need.

Tags: angst, injury, a pair of dumbasses unnecessarily complicating things, mild blood

Notes: I like my characters to be strong and have stories and relationships in their own right. Like, I just don't like writing stories where they justs exist for the romance. I find it…eh. also, i've been without internet so i still haven't seen the finale!

Also, thank you everyone for the kind reviews and support! I've really appreciated it!

Word Count: 2,328

masterlist

Part 1

Part 2

Part 3

———

Ba-bump.

All I can grasp is agony. It's in the strands of my DNA, it's the only thing holding me together, it's all I know.

Ba-bump.

My heartbeat is as loud as a pulsating thunderclap.

Ba-bump.

I can't move. Not a single finger. I can't tell if it's the pain or the weight of the sky.

Ba-bump.

Light.

Ba-bump.

The world becomes a maelstrom of indistinguishable sensations.

Ba-bump.

Echoing shouts of meaningless sound drill into my skull.

Ba-bump.

Without warning, someone touches me. A choked shriek more animal than human pierces the air. Somehow, I realise it must be me.

Ba-bump.

I'm being touched all over and the only reason I don't scream again is because my lungs won't fill.

Ba-bump.

The thunder is fading.

Ba-bump.

I can feel the great black swallowing me but I want to stay.

Ba-bump.

As much as it hurts, I want to stay.

Ba-bump.

The dark doesn't care. It devours me anyway.

———

I'm warm.

It's the first feeling that my mind conjures. Slowly, the physicality of the world comes into focus underneath my skin. The tickle of my hair against my neck, the light press of a blanket across my legs, my fingers curling into a weak fist against the sheets; I allow the sensations to wash over me without judgement. The absence of pain is a welcome but deeply alien lightness. Once I've taken some steady breaths and feel sure that I can take whatever lays beyond me, I open my eyes.

A medbay?

No, not a medbay. I recognise this place.

Everything is still too foggy for thoughts to come easily but any panic that had been growing in my chest dissipates. It's safe and it's home and that's enough.

"Hi Alina."

I turn to blearily look at the man next to me. Dr Culber…

"Hugh?"

His face breaks into a huge smile like I've performed some miracle.

"You have no idea how good it is to see you awake."

…Maybe I have.

"What happened?" He helps me sit up as my muscles ache from disuse.

He scratches his head apprehensively before starting, "I should alert the crew…Shit, the captain."

I shake my head before I find my voice, "No, not yet. I-I need answers first."

Hugh seems unsure but sits next to me on the bed anyway, "I guess there's the question of how much you remember?"

I furrow my brow, "I remember running for the surface and then-" my fingers go to the bandage on my forehead-"something hit me. I went down. Then there was a lot of pain, and now we're here."

He brushes my hair away from the bandage gently, "It's mostly healed but I wanted to wait for your permission to remove the scar…I know how much they can mean to people."

I nod gently but say nothing.

Hugh continues, "We found you not long after the bunker's collapse. We managed to track your bio-sign and use the Discovery's tractor beam to clear away the debris. Almost all of your bones and organs had sustained trauma and you were clinging onto life. You've been in a coma for four days to give your body time to heal and…"

"To see if I would wake up?"

"Yeah. I knew you would, though. You've always been a fighter, Alina."

He pauses to take a deep breath and it settles like a heavy weight in my throat.

"If you hadn't stayed conscious for so long, or had been much deeper underground or any number of things, we wouldn't have been able to find you. But you'd nearly made it to the surface all by yourself…Your fingers were bloody from trying to climb out."

The quiet admiration on his face is enough to make me tear up. I feel him take my hand.

"You saved yourself, Alina."

A little hiccuping sob sneaks out.

"Not that anyone was surprised by that."

This time, a breathy snort slips out.

A silence settles between us for a little while as Hugh holds my hand and I find my calm.

"Can I go back to my quarters?"

He seems surprised, "I mean, yes, after some tests…People will want to know you're awake."

I close my eyes for a moment, "I know but I-I just can't right now…I need some time to process first. Just say that I'm okay if people ask but that I need some space."

"…I understand…Well, sit still and I'll go get my diagnostic tool."

I lean back against the pillows.

"So, first question: the scar?"

"How does it make me look?"

"Like an absolute badass."

For the first time in a while, I feel a smile curl across my face, "Well then I've got to keep it."

———

Sleep is elusive with dreams of my dirt-filled lungs keeping it at bay. So instead I'm sitting by my window and try to piece together some answers from the stars before me. Unfortunately, they're not saying much.

I survived.

It just doesn't feel concrete, like this is my mind's final comfort and any minute the world will fall away. Absentmindedly, I trace the thin scar mirroring my eyebrow. If anything, this mark is the only thing grounding me right now.

The gentle ring of the doorbell breaks my trance. I quietly sigh. The ship's day-lighting had flared not long ago; I knew someone would come past soon enough.

"Door."

However, I am not prepared for Chris to be on the other side of the door.

For a couple of seconds, he doesn't move. His expression is somehow two parts admiration, one part grief. I feel the weeks apart slip off my shoulders like sandbags. I don't care that he won't- can't -choose me. The sliver of me concerned about pride or dignity has melted away. I don't know if this is forgiveness or simply acceptance.

"Chris?" the word is both pleading and unsure.

I stand too quickly and the room becomes painted with technicolour streaks of black. The fear that everything will dissolve into darkness surges up my throat and I squeeze my eyes shut to stave off the panic. Before I can fall, strong hands are holding me upright. Instinctively, my hands go to his shoulders and I lean closer. It's a couple of darting breaths before I can open my eyes. I'm met by vibrant blue eyes lined with warmth and concern.

"Are you alright?" Chris' voice is interwoven with worry.

I nod, unable to find words or take my eyes off him.

The strong grip at my arm and waist are an anchor but I still don't know what to say to him. There's so much that I couldn't say but now can that is haunting the tip of my tongue.

"I am so sorry, Alina."

"No-"

"I should never have pushed you away."

"I-"

"I should never have put you at risk."

"That's-"

"You should never have had to put your life on the line."

"I made-"

"A choice. I know. But-"

"Chris," I cut through his flood of words.

I cautiously brush a thumb across his cheek just to feel his skin. His eyes search mine- for what, I don't know.

"There's no need to apologise. There never was. You've always done what you thought you had to. It's something I've always…respected about you." I don't stop drawing patterns against his cheek.

Chris closes his eyes and lightly leans into my hand. I take the moment to study the lines of his face. The bone-deep weariness drawn across his features cracks something within me and finally the words find a way out.

"When I was down there, waiting for the countdown…I only thought about one thing."

Chris' eyebrows furrow and his eyes open to meet my gaze in silent question.

What I would give to kiss him one last time.

I would truly give anything just to have him here, holding my hand, as the world ends.

I lean forward until our foreheads meet. He gently nudges me back, brushing our noses together, in a familiar, simple movement that ruptures the floodwall. Tears begin to fall before I find the strength to speak.

My voice cracks, "How much I wanted to come back to you."

Chris' hands come to frame my face but I screw my eyes shut. I can't bear to look at him anymore. I can't bear to know that he will always be right there but never mine.

The words cascade out of me without regard, "I know that this can't happen but I need you to listen, to know what you mean to me. You gave me the strength to stare death in the face. You were the one I wanted to run back to, those weapons be damned. You were the person I wanted by my side when I thought my time was up…I choose you, Chris, even if you can't choose me."

"Alina…"

"Chris, please, I don't want pity, I coul-"

"Sometimes it comes down to a choice," his voice is quiet but steady.

I dare to open my eyes. He bears a tentative smile that I can't help but gently return through the persisting tears.

Please, please, please.

"Sometimes you make the wrong decision. Sometimes you lose the only thing that ever really mattered and you have to bear that regret for the rest of your life…but sometimes, if you're truly lucky, you get the chance to try again."

The hope in my chest is expanding with every breath. I'm trying to not grin, to not prematurely celebrate a moment that's not yet mine, but I'm failing. Instead, I take one of his hands in mine and gently press it to my mouth in a lingering kiss to hide my budding smile. Chris tucks back a stray strand of my hair as his own grin grows from hesitant to glowing. I am suddenly struck by the symmetry of this moment with the last time we were this close and find myself praying that this story will end differently.

"Alina, it was unfair of me to think that you would ever make me choose between you and our crew. I underestimated you and for that, I am sorry…I also know that I caused you pain and I know that you said you wouldn't wait around for me to come to my senses but-"

I don't let him finish.

I pull Chris tighter against me as I bring his lips to mine. This time he tastes ever-so-slightly of honey and I want to drown in it, in him. He presses back against me like he's the one drowning and it gives me a little thrill that I am so wanted. Chris' hands dig into my shoulder and back, and his strength is probably the only thing keeping me on my feet. I can feel every line of his body against me and the pressure against the aches of my injuries is nothing short of delicious. The fevered beat of Chris' heart echoes beneath my fingers and every pulse further washes away my fears. This is real, I am alive, we're going to be okay. I break away first but the very welcome cage of his arms means I don't go far.

"I know you Christopher Pike, you don't need to apologise to me for trying to do the right thing."

Maybe I'm forgiving or risking more than I should but I love Chris. With every fallible, mortal, and adoring part of me, I love him. He nods, his face still unsure. Gently, I brush my thumb across his brow and smooth out the worry lines before going up on my tiptoes to plant a soft kiss on his forehead. Chris' arms tighten at my waist but his eyes are bright. He leans in for another kiss but I place a single finger against his lips, making him pause. His puzzled expression is enough to make me laugh but what I need to say sobers me slightly. I take a step back as Chris continues to look on in confusion. Slowly, I place a splayed hand just above his heart and take a moment to admire how alive he feels beneath my fingers before I speak.

"I choose you, Chris. In this life, the next, all of them, whatever I don't care- I choose you. I-I love you."

His expression almost makes me cry again simply because no one has ever looked at me like Chris does, like I put the stars in the sky. Steadily, his hand comes to mirror mine and rest just above my heart.

"I've loved you since you saved me back on Kaminar. I choose you, Alina Osborne, and I'll follow you to the ends of the universe if you let me."

This time when Chris leans in for a kiss, I don't stop him. The taste of his smile against mine is enough to wash away the weight of the world.

#Christopher Pike #christopher pike x reader #christopher pike x oc #christopher pike fanfiction #star trek #star trek discovery #star trek disco

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