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staarshines · 3 years

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More Than Just A Midnight Love || P.D.

warnings: overdose mention (in general), extreme softness

word count: 1.4k

What’s the saying—all is fair in love and war? Well, maybe because love is the truest form of war. We’re at war with everyone—the universe, fate, society, our friends, our family, even ourselves—all for this one person. Hell, we’d start a war for them.

[a/n]: ahaha i was a clown and fully formatted this through a text post instead of the ask that requested it. if you’re reading this standing up you should sit down, because according to my betas, you’ll probably faint.

Love. What an interesting thing. No. not thing, phenomena. Something as complex but still as elegant as love should be given a more refined pronoun than ‘thing’.

A mixture of chemicals in the brain. Like every other emotion, that’s all it was. But it was somehow stronger than its complements. Everything—ever single decision ever made—could be traced back to love. Or a lack of it, for that matter. C8H11NO2 + C10H12N2O + C43H66N12O12S2. That’s all it was—a jumble of letters and numbers, a bunch of chemicals. What’s terrifying yet beautiful—that exact equation, when synthesized, can be overdosed upon.

Your mind was racing a million parsecs an hour, too fast and too loud for you to keep up with. But here you were, sat quietly with your lover, watching the sinless, beautiful stars twinkle in all their glory, laid back on the canvas of the cosmos.

“I always see those two,” Poe starts, voice dropping in tone as soon as he starts the sentence. You’re almost sorry he broke the sleepy silence, but in all honesty, you didn’t mind it. You found few things sweeter than his voice.

“What about them?” you whisper, raising your arm and pointing at the painting, trying to see which pair he was talking about.

“Not those,” he guides your finger gently to the left, stopping right at a duo you swear looked familiar, “those. Every time I see them, it looks like they’re getting closer.” He wasn’t lying—it really did seem like it. “But every time you blink, they’re back to where they started. Maybe it’s just our eyes playing tricks on us.”

“Or maybe,” you start to propose, “they’re trying to make their way to each other and the cosmos keeps pulling them apart. But no matter how many times they find themselves back where they started, they try again.” After a moment of silence, you turn your head to find him completely fixated on you , to which you scoff. “It’s stupid, I know—”

“I love you.” You’re not sure why he’s caught you off guard with those three words, but he has. Maybe it was the otherworldliness of the moment, or the fact that you two hadn’t had a second to each other for weeks.

“More than the Resistance?” you return your usual remark—this exchange had been a staple of your two’s relationship ever since Poe got a bit too drunk on fire whiskey one night. You expect to hear the dramatic “Of course not, I’m the poster boy!” like it had happened that night, but instead, you hear one word that makes your breath catch in your throat.

“Yes.”

You take a few moments to try and figure out whether or not he was playing you, but you had no clue. “You’re bluffing.”

“I’m not. I’d give up every star in the sky for you, stardust. Each and every one.”

“Well, you better not,” is all you can come up with, suddenly sitting up and hugging your knees to your chest while still keeping your eyes fixated on him.

“And why not?” He’s getting argumentative now—so are you—but he always gets argumentative when you start to doubt yourself and whether or not you deserved his love. But that wasn’t the reason this time.

“Because what’s the Resistance compared to all the stars in the galaxy?” It terrified you that he would give so much up for so little. Absolutely terrified you. “Promise me one thing. If it comes down to me and the Resistance, you choose the Resistance. Always.” The silence in that moment alarms you to no end, and you watch him slowly get up and try to pick his words carefully.

“I’ll promise you anything you want, but not that.” You scoff, shaking your head and wringing your hands together in a desperate attempt to get them to stop shaking.

“Poe, I’m not worth the fate of the galaxy. I’m not worth the lives of billions of innocents. This, you’re—you’re crazy.” You wince at your choice of words, but right now, it was the last thing bothering you.

“I can’t… I can’t lose you. And maybe that sounds selfish, but I don’t care,” his voice breaks at the last word, and you’re trying as hard as you can to keep from breaking down—you know he is, too. “I can’t lose you. Even if it means losing the Resistance, losing everything we’ve fought for… I can’t. I can’t stop loving you, and I know I’m only going to love you harder as time passes on.”

“We’re in the middle of an intergalactic war. We’re arguably a few of the most significant people in that war, too. We… we can’t love like this.”

“It’s not something I can control,” he states rather gently, resting his chin on one of your knees. “It’s just… there. What are you so afraid of?”

“The fact that we were hesitant in the first place because we didn’t want this to happen, Dameron.” You’d only use Dameron when you were worried or scolding him, and he had a feeling it was the first more than the second.

“Well, why didn’t we want to do it in the first place?”

“Because we couldn’t let emotions cloud our judgement.”

“I think they would’ve ended up doing that even if we hadn’t been together.” You shoot him a look and he sighs, straightening his back and smoothing your hair back. “Emotions give you purpose. You give me purpose. You’re why I fight, stardust. You’re my purpose.”

“Poe—”

“Look at me. No, no, look at me. What are you so worried about?”

“That something’s gonna happen to one of us,” your voice cracks, and you immediately regret the decision to have told him. “Or something is gonna happen to the Resistance because of us.”

“Can I make you a promise?” You raise your eyebrows but nod, trying to search his eyes to find what he was trying to say before he said it.

“Always.”

“Nothing is going to happen to us.” You begin to scoff and move out of his grip, but he turns your head towards him. “I mean it. Nothing is going to happen to us. Nothing is going to happen to the Resistance. We might be in the middle of a war, but that doesn’t mean we can’t love each other as hard as we want. What’s the saying—all is fair in love and war? Well, maybe because love is the truest form of war.” You let your fingers get caught in his curls, nodding for him to continue. “We’re at war with everyone—the universe, fate, society, our friends, our family, even ourselves—all for this one person. Hell, we’d start a war for them.” You scoff at this and you can see him raise his eyebrows—you’re not sure if it’s in disappointment because he was so close to getting you to understand or more in adamancy.

“You’re outrageous.”

“Tell me you wouldn’t do the same.”

“Of course not, I wouldn’t start a war for you—” The sheer confidence and swiftness of his last sentence makes you stop, but that’s a lie. You know the real reason you stopped.

Because he’s right.

You do love him more than the Resistance. You would start a war for him. Hell, you’d go to the ends of the galaxy for him without an ounce of concern for yourself.

“This is dangerous, Poe,” you whisper in an almost terrified voice, terrified of what you’d just realized.

“Then let it be dangerous.”

“This type of love gets people killed.”

“People also die for this type of love, stardust. It’s rare. What we have, it’s… It’s not something that comes by even once a lifetime. I don’t know how I found it, how I was lucky enough to find you, but I’m not letting go of you that easily.” He kisses your knuckles before moving onto your lips, and you swear you can feel yourself falling in love with him all over again. “So let’s not waste it, shall we?”

“No. Let’s not waste this dangerously rare love,” you laugh, watching his eyes light up. “I love you. Dangerously,” you giggle, feeling at ease when you hear his chuckle.

“I love you too. Dangerously, exceptionally, fully, and everything in between.”

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#poe dameron x reader #poe dameron x you #poe dameron x y/n #poe dameron fic #poe dameron imagine #star wars fic #star wars imagine #my writing #my betas helped SO MUCH here i love you all so much #request

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takeiteasypeasybaby · 4 years

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Save Me: Chapter 22 - Alone

~Hey Guys! Chapter 22 is out now ❤️ Molly encounters Saviours as Rick confronts Negan about Molly’s presence at the Sanctuary...I hope everyone enjoys this chapter and chapter 23 will be out on Sunday 🤟🏻~

It was better to be alone, than to hurt again.

There I was, lying wrapped tightly in his arms. He kissed my neck gently through my hair.

I could feel his warm breath against my ear, tingles rushing down my spine and a smile now plastered across my face as my eyes remained shut.

I awoke abruptly to hear a gunshot outside.

It had been a dream, a perfect dream. I was back in my surroundings, the abandoned damp house.

I darted towards the window, and peered outside, shielding the majority of my body from anyone's view.

There were a group of men standing close to the house, with a car that I recognised.

Shit. Saviours.

They were standing around pointing at the various houses. They meant to search them.

Negan sent these guys to bring me back? Or worse kill me?

He let me go. It didn't seem like something he would do.

I was amidst my thoughts as I still crouched by the window.

Suddenly, one of them looked in my direction, frowning as I shifted frantically out of view.

I could still hear them outside, 'check it out!' one shouted.

My eyes widened. Fuck.

I took out my gun and held a knife below it. I paced quietly to slide behind the bedroom door.

I heard the front door creak open as a couple of guys walked in slowly.

'Could've been a walker' he warned the other guy.

I smirked, oh boy you've got something worse coming for you. I would never let them kill me or take me back.

They walked up the stairs and went into separate rooms to check them out.

Seeing one guy walk into the adjacent room, I slipped round the side of the door and followed him in.

I made no sound as I crept up behind him.

'Hey Mike check this out' he said softly as he bent down to reach for an old Pac-Man game.

I wrapped my arm around his chest and slit his throat quietly.

Blood splattered against the wall and I set him down gently on the floor.

The other guy said 'what?' as he came round to enter the room.

I waited against the wall and had my gun aimed at the door ready.

He walked through the threshold and shouted 'you!' as I shot him in the head.

There were still three other guys out there and the gunshot had now alerted them to my position.

I crept round to the window and opened it slightly to position my gun.

They were arguing and shouted 'Mike, Robbie, what's going on?' from outside the house.

I managed to get a clear shot on one of them and killed him instantly. The other two ducked and ran into the house and up the stairs.

They fired on the room I was in repeatedly. They had far more ammo than me.

After firing for a few minutes, seeing all the bullet holes in the wall. I dragged one of the bodies over to the door so that the blood would spill through under the door.

They mumbled to each other, thinking I was dead.

I heard their footsteps slowly get closer to the door. I looked around the room to see if I could use anything.

I smiled when I saw an aerosol can of old deodorant. Fuck yeah.

I crawled to pick it up and counted a couple seconds until I knew they were close.

I opened the door suddenly, through the can out and shot at it.

They gasped as the can spluttered and exploded, sending a cloud of white powder through the hall.

They were disorientated and shouted to each other.

Seeing the back of one of the guys step backwards towards me, I grabbed the back of him and held him with a knife to his throat.

Once the mist had cleared, the other guy stood in front of us and aimed his gun at his friend.

'Put down your weapons' I shouted to him as his friend struggled in my arms.

The other guy started to lower his gun slightly as I said sternly 'tell me who sent you and I won't kill you'.

He looked at his friend and sighed saying 'Simon. He told us to kill you'.

'Really? I'm guessing that asshole will kill you if you don't kill me' I retorted, tightening my grip on his neck.

He winced, 'do what she says' he said shaking.

'Be smart, me or Simon' I said slowly.

He sighed before saying 'I'll take my chances' and raised his gun back up at his friend, willing to shoot us both.

Seeing his intent, I shot him in the heart immediately, his friend said 'please' as I slit his throat.

I dropped to my knees, weary and numb. I felt no remorse killing those men. It was me or them.

I was more like Negan than I thought, or even worse, I was already like him before we met.

I wiped my brow, pushing all thoughts of him out of my head.

I snapped back into action seeing walkers approaching the house. They must have heard the gunshots.

I grabbed my rucksack and swept supplies into it as I ran down the stairs and out the front door.

They were getting closer and started to clamber and snarl around the Saviour's car. I ran to it, shooting the walkers nearest the door.

They dropped as I pulled open the door and shut it just in time as more walkers now encircled it.

I started the engine and saw that there was a half tank of gas. Thank god.

I pushed my foot down and floored it sharply away from them. The ones in front of the car flung wildly over the bonnet.

I had no idea of where I was going but I just kept heading further and further away from the Sanctuary.

I drove for about half an hour as I began to see roads that I recognised. I was close. These were the old routes to Alexandria.

A smile grew across my face in relief which was quickly replaced by a scowl seconds later.

I stopped dead in the middle of the road.

I couldn't go back. I couldn't go home.

How would I even begin to explain? How could I even look at Maggie, Rosita or Sasha?

Rick would banish me like he did to Carol years ago.

I was better off out here.

I couldn't stay too close, given that Negan and the Saviours would come to collect each week, I couldn't risk anyone seeing me. Least of all, him.

Negan's POV//

Silence, complete silence.

I sat there, in my room with Lucille propped by my side. My hand slipped slightly as I poured myself another glass of bourbon.

I was almost through the entire bottle.

I sighed and rubbed my forehead. I missed hearing her voice.

I lifted the glass up to my lips as I heard a faint Negan echo around the room. I stopped dead and put the glass down.

It was her voice, Molly.

'Fuck, I'm going crazy' I whispered to myself. I stood up and smashed the glass against the wall and walked to the window.

I gripped the window ledge firmly as my eyebrows furrowed. I was trapped. I had lost the only thing that made life worthwhile.

After Lucille, I never thought I would find someone like that again. I fucking ruined it.

Suddenly, my thoughts were ripped from me by a slight knock and the door opening slowly.

'I thought you might like some company' a hesitant voice said.

I sighed, knowing it was Frankie. 'If I wanted your company, I would've asked for it. You're not my wife anymore' I snapped at her.

She was silent for a second before she closed the door again.

I bowed my head against the window pane. I needed news of her, anything.

I threw on my jacket and marched over to the door, I spun back around and picked up Lucille, almost forgetting her.

I strolled to Simon's room and knocked loudly on the door.

'Negan' he answered.

'Molly. Was there really nothing you found those first weeks?' I said exhaustedly.

He looked at me with surprise.

'No, nothing really. Except this' he said coldly as he handed me a necklace. It was her locket.

'We found it round the arm of a walker' he said with an amount of admiration.

I scowled in disbelief as my eyes began to water.

'She can handle herself' I said, smiling weakly with hope.

'It didn't look good sir, there were a hoard of them around it' he said looking down.

I gripped the locket in my hand and marched away back to my room.

I was full of guilt, rage, fear and regret. To think that I had put her in this situation. I might have killed her.

It was overwhelming me and I was drunk. At least that's what I told myself later on.

I found myself stumbling into the wives lounge. Ex-wives.

I leant against the doorframe and looked around. None of the other wives remained, only Frankie.

She sat there in her black dress and looked up at me. I just needed to forget her and feel like myself again.

'Frankie, baby. Come with me' I said smirking at her.

She grinned widely and jumped up, running over to me. I tried to seem interested but really I was using her.

The next morning...

I woke up the next morning, her arm wrapped around me.

My eyes opened as I felt her behind me. I sighed, she didn't feel like Molly.

I got up and looked over at her as I got dressed. I felt nothing.

As I picked up Lucille, I grabbed Molly's locket and pressed it against my lips before holding it in my pocket.

I was wrong. She didn't make me weak, she gave me strength. Holding that locket in my hand showed me that.

I was regenerated with a vengeance.

I ordered everyone into the meeting room, it was time Rick got what was coming to him.

At least there was a comfort in knowing Molly couldn't hate me more than she did.

At that, there were bullets fired against the walls, smashing in the windows.

I peered out of the window to see Rick's group shielded with metal barricades.

'What's the plan?' Simon said sternly as I simply scanned around for her.

'We talk. Otherwise we're just wasting metal on metal' I said as I walked out of the door.

Dwight, Simon, Arat, Gavin and Eugene following me.

'Well shit! I'm sorry, I was in a meeting' I said sarcastically, swinging Lucille over my shoulder.

I looked at all of them.

'I see you got your little mud flaps with ya. So I'm not exactly feeling a reason for us to try throwing lead at each other. I care about my people, I'm not just gonna throw them into the line of fire because I wanna play my dick is bigger than yours!' I yelled.

I smirked before softly saying 'it is, by the way. We both know it'.

I paced on the balcony, looking now at Rick.

'But, I'm also comfortable enough to accept the fact if it wasn't. But I'm certainly not gonna let my people die over that shit, like your about to' I said, pointing to him with Lucille.

'So Rick, what the hell can I do for ya?' I asked mockingly.

He paused before moving out into full vision.

'Give us Molly' he yelled. I froze at her name.

I looked down awkwardly, 'she's not here, she left' I said, choking slightly.

Rick just nodded in frustration, probably thinking I lied.

'Dwight, your name's Simon, you're Gavin and you?' Rick said pointing at my people.

'Arat' she replied.

I was now fed up with his bullshit.

'Rick I'd feel remiss-' Eugene spoke before he was interrupted by Rick.

''No! I know who you are...' he said now scowling at him.

'Listen you five, the Saviours inside, all of you have a chance to survive here, to survive this. Y'all can live if you surrender. Can't guarantee it anytime but now. Right now' he spoke, almost pleadingly.

I just smiled and a light chuckle escaped my lips.

'So they surrender, and you and your little piss patrol doesn't kill em. That sounds like a good deal!' I said sarcastically.

I now looked down at him, saying 'what about me Rick?'.

'I told you, twice. You know what's gonna happen' he yelled.

I nodded, 'I do, I do know what's gonna happen. You have no idea the shit that's about to go down. Lemme ask you something Rick, you think you have the numbers for this fight?' I said gesturing to the Sanctuary.

'You don't' I added.

'Let's find out shall we?' Rick stayed confidently.

I was silent.

'You're gonna make me count. Okay, okay, I'm counting. Ten, nine, eight, seven...' he yelled before he opened fired on all of us.

I ran down the stairs and round the back while my guys ran back inside.

Rick followed and fired on the scrap metal I was crouching behind.

'Rick! It's not about you' a voice said to Rick, making him ceasefire.

He went round the side and I ran towards the nearest base.

The old trailer.

Walkers encircled it and I was trapped inside.

'Fuck' I mumbled.

I sat inside, in darkness when the door opened to reveal Father Gabriel...

#negan x original female character #negan imagine #twd fanfiction #negan fanfiction #twd #twd negan #slowburn #thewalkingdead #negan #jdm #jeffreydeanmorgan #rick grimes #daryldixon #twdromance #slow build #negan smut #the walking dead negan #mollychambler

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lxveille · 6 years

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the moon and the stars and the look in your eyes

dino x reader

word count: ~ 2040 warnings: mentions of alcohol / drinking games a/n: summer fluff written while listening to you make my day, obviously

Your hair is still damp from the last time you’d jumped into the pool. Chan catches himself staring at a how part of it clings to the back of your neck while you’re busy talking with Seungkwan. The fading daylight has set a kind of amber glow to everything on the porch, not the least of which being warm spots of sunshine on your bare shoulders.

Seungkwan catches his eye (a miracle, perhaps, given how fixed his gaze had been on you) and a knowing sort of smile slips onto his face. On a you-induced delay, a dollop of dread comes into Chan’s gut just before Seungkwan calls out his name.

You turn. And you smile. You smile at him -- and Chan is instantly relieved. Instantly glad he let Seungcheol talk them into a summer getaway trip.

ii.

It’s difficult enough following the plot of a movie in a living room crowded with his friends. It’s a different kind of feat when a few shuffling positions over bathroom and snack trips ends up meaning Chan is sitting right next to you on one end of the couch.

If he thought he knew what it was like to have his heart hammer ever before, he was proven wrong when the back of your hand brushed against his. Chan steals increasingly long glances at your profile and thanks the low lighting for keeping stray, heartsick grins out of everyone else’s attention.

At least Chan thinks as much in the moment. He proven wrong later, when he and Mingyu are both brushing their teeth.

“You’ve really got it bad, huh?” Mingyu teases lightly, a knowing look in his eye as he rinses foamy spit out of the sink.

“Huh?” he nearly echoes, save for the dash of feigned confusion. Mingyu replies with a half-hushed version of your name and a raise of his eyebrows.

Chan can’t even be that mad about it. Not when your head had been resting on his shoulder less than half an hour ago.

iii.

After who-knows-how-long of standing around in the dark and fumbling with kindling and scraps of paper, there’s a proper fire going and an abundance of conversation happening around it. From across the fire pit, Chan hears you let out a yelp just in time to catch you and Soonyoung desperately blowing on a marshmallow that’s gone up entirely in flames. Joshua’s doubled over in laughter and insistence that he warned Soonyoung not to hold it so close to the flame.

You’ve switched from panic to laughing at the combination of the entirely charred-over marshmallow and Soonyoung’s pout when you look his way. Stray specks of ember crackle in the air between the two of you. Your grin calms from a moment, settling into something gentler that Chan can’t quite name. (He blames increase of heat he feels on his cheeks at your held gaze on how close he’s standing to the fire.) The moment ends with you looking back to Soonyoung with another small laugh spilling out of your lips.

But shortly after he spots you making your way around the circle of friends to stand beside him instead, smore in hand. It’s pretty obvious guise when you say you came Chan’s way to ask if he’d split it with you. And a flutter of newfound assurance down his spine at the realization that, really, you just wanted to come a little closer to him.

Splitting the sticky sweet turns out to be more of a production than either one of you had anticipated. You’re laughing and apologizing as you hand over an uneven half to Chan. All he can do is tell you that it’s fine and remind himself he ought not to stare so much while you lick melted marshmallow off your fingers.

You catch his lingering gaze nonetheless. This time, closer, Chan thinks he can put a name to what shifts onto your expression when your eyes are locked with his. Fondness.

iv.

There’s a morning when Chan thinks he’s the first to wake up. At least until he gets down to the kitchen on the rented house and finds you sitting on the counter in your pajamas with a mug of coffee cupped in both hands.

“Morning,” you greet him simply.

“You’re up early,” he comments. Some small part of him says he shouldn’t start over again on contemplating what signals he thinks he’s picked up from you over the past couple of days. If he starts in on that line of thought now it’ll be all he can possibly think about all day.

“I wasn’t as drunk as everyone else last night,” you cite as a possible reason.

When you hop down from the countertop, you wind up closer to Chan than he’d expected. It feels like a solid half minute goes by with the two of you standing face to face, barefoot on the sun-soaked tiles and still mussy-haired from sleep. The same enamored look from the fireside slips into your eyes again. Chan can feel his lips pull into a senseless smile and a rise of heat in the tips of his ears. And he finds himself thinking he could get used to you being the first person he sees in the morning.

“Do you want some coffee?” you offer, breaking the silence.

For the best, Chan thinks. If it’d gone on any longer he would’ve kissed you.

He finds himself alone with you for the second time that day hours later, when all the light has gone from the sky. You’re sitting on the hood of Mingyu’s car, staring up at the stars. The sounds of the drinking game happening on the porch can still be heard, coming only party muffled from the other side of the house.

“You alright?” Chan asks as he approaches.

“I’m fine,” you tell him, sitting up a little straighter. “Just needed a break from --” As if on a cue, there’s an echo of an uproar from the ongoing game. You grin a little and finish with a simple, “That.”

He laughs. “Fair enough.” It’s perhaps a little sheepish, if only because he can be just as rowdy as what’s still going on from time to time.

“What’re you doing out here?” you ask next. You slouch forward some, leaning elbows onto your knees as you peer at him.

He considers coming up with a quick and easy lie; thinks of just saying he needed a bit of space from all the chaos unfolding on the porch just like you. He looks you over, takes in the way you look lit by only the faint glow of lights coming from inside the house and the lamppost at the end of the driveway.

“I wanted to see where you were,” he admits the truth instead.

There’s a smile on your face that he almost misses when you glance down at your hands.

“You wanna sit with me for a while?” you ask.

The answer -- and a few days ago he would’ve felt he gave it all too quickly -- is yes.

So he settles into a spot beside you on the cool, metallic surface of the car. The two of you lean back after a few moments, sights moving to the constellations and waxing moon overhead.

Chan looses track of time. The quiet is comfortable next to you, with just the two of you and the universe. All the same, he’s far from bothered when your voice hits his ears again, asking, “Can I ask you something, Chan?”

He turns his head to find you’re still staring upwards. “Sure,” he answers.

Your mouth opens slightly, like the start of your next question is just on the tip of your tongue but somehow impossible to get out. Your eyelashes flutter some as you blink a few times before shifting to be looking at him directly.

There it is again, the expression he’d decided to name fondness all across your features. Chan feels the fluttering down his spine again, and swallows back the urge to reach out for you.

“You promise not to laugh?” you asked. That only provokes a small chuckle from Chan that has you slapping your hand down on the hood of the car. “Chan!” you reprimand.

“No -- no,” he corrects quickly, “I won’t. I promise. Pinky swear, if you want,” he offers, not caring how childish it might sound when he holds up one hand into the space between the two of you.

You roll your eyes, but smile all the same, and link your smallest finger with his. The small contact feels like it has a whole world of gravity behind it, like from here he either has to tear himself away or pull you as close as he can.

The choice is made for him when the ruckus of the others comes spilling around the side of the house, Seungkwan shouting about how they’ve decided to head down to the shore. You both unlace your fingers and slide off the hood of the car quickly, as though you’d been caught doing something far more scandalous.

He shares another look with you, this one tinged with something like an apology before you shrug and say you’re up for a late night swim anyway.

vi.

Outer layers of clothes are still scattered along the sand. The dark kept anyone from heading out much further than waist-level. Games of splashing in dark, moonlit waves and clamoring on top of each other in the water have died down.

Most everyone has started gathering their things from the shore, patting salt water off themselves with shirts. Chan is sitting on the sand with legs extended and close enough to the tide line that the strongest waves lapping up to the beach still manage to reach up to his calves.

You’re heading back to shore with Seungkwan and Soonyoung. You stop while you’re still knee-deep, brush wet hair out of your face, and tell them to head on without you. They make no ordeal out of it, and carry on by while you reroute to head in Chan’s direction.

By the time you get out of the water, you’re standing next to him. “You look like you’re gonna spend the night here or something,” you remark jokingly.

Chan breathes out a laugh. “I’m just not in a rush.”

“Fair enough,” you decide with a smile and let yourself plop down on the wet sand with him.

“You never got to ask your question,” he points out after a pause, watching the way water droplets clung to your skin. It makes you look away from him to the continuous push of waves against the shore.

“I guess not.”

Three seconds pass, then five. Then both of you speak up at the same time, Chan reassuring that you don’t have to ask it at all if you’ve changed your mind, and finding it nearly impossible to make out what you’re saying in that moment as well. (Though he thinks -- maybe -- he heard the word kiss.)

Both of you break into laughter at the clumsiness of the moment. Unease slips away into the sea when you lean against his side once the giggling subsides. “Sorry,” you nearly mutter, “What’d you say?”

“Just that you don’t have to ask it, if you don’t want to anymore,” he repeats, wriggling his shoulder slightly to jostle you playfully.

“Well, that’s...” You pause, and smile before lifting your head off of him to look at him head on. “I was gonna ask if it’d be a bad idea to kiss you.”

Chan shakes his head, a grin that’s impossible to stop coming to his face.

But then, he supposes, he contradicts it a bit by technically being the one to lean in first.

Grains of sand are still sticking to both your hands when they come to touch each other’s cheeks and shoulders. Breathless laughter slips out of you both when the kiss ends with lips pulling hesitantly away from each other.

Chan is more than glad that someone came up with the idea of friends’ trip this summer. Grateful, even, that beaches and summer exist at all. And he kisses you once again before he can do anything as silly as saying that much aloud.

#seventeen scenarios #seventeen imagines #dino imagines #lee chan fanfic #seventeen fanfic #i was gonna write this with a song off the album to set the mood per scene but then that didn't turn out #a n y w a y here's some good old fashioned fluff

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sickficprompts · 6 years

Text

Connie is Sick

A fanfiction for the webseries All For One on the KindaTV youtube channel. This piece takes place after season 2.

Shoutout to the anon who requested an All for One fic! I know it’s been a while, so I hope you’re around to see it :) I’ve been struggling to write recently, and I’m so grateful that you gave me a prompt I got really excited for. Hopefully, it’ll lead to more and better content going forward!

Words: 2484 Pairing: Donnie (Connie as sickie and Dorothy as caretaker) Fandom: All For One (webseries)

“I told you to take a break.”

“I don’t need your sarcasm.”

“Don’t be a douche canoe.”

“My stomach fees like a douche canoe.”

Dorothy frowned at Connie. The girl was paler than normal with a pink flush across her cheeks. Her large eyes were tired. She was curled in a bad under a mass of blankets, shivering.

“Are you sure you want to go to class?”

Connie rubbed her eye and continued typing with the laptop laying on its side leaned up on her lap. “Have to turn in this essay.”

“You need to take a break.”

Her phone rang then. She closed her bruised eyes, and I passed it to her from the purple ottoman. She swiped to answer.

“Hey, mom.” Her voice was more energetic, happier… fake. “Yeah I’m good. Yes, I know there’s a bug going around. I’m being careful. Yeah, I’ve been taking my vitamin C. No, I’m not going to miss classes. I’m-“ She hesitated for a partial second to wince. She wiggled and held her stomach as she continued. “I’m getting ready for class now. I have to go. Okay. Yup. Love you too. Bye.”

She hung up with shaky hands, dropped the phone, and curled in on herself. I climbed into bed behind her and pulled the blanket tighter around her knees. I fit my hand in under her’s so I could touch her stomach through the fabric of her dress. I felt how tense it was, and felt it move as it growled again. Connie moaned.

I rubbed careful, light circles. She curled more but didn’t shrug me off.

“Does this help?”

“Mmm…” It sounded pain, but calm.

“Poor, Connie… I think you need a nurse. Good thing I’m a doctor!” I waited. She said nothing, so I finished. “A love doctor!”

“Dorothy, I feel really sick.”

I frowned. Connie sounded scared. “Uh, okay. What do I do? Do you want me to get the nurse? Or-“

“No. I have to go to class. I can’t finish my work like this. I won’t be able to concentrate. I-“ She sucked in a breath and squirmed, crossing her arms over her stomach.

“What is it? Hurt? Or are you gonna puke? Should I get the trash? I didn’t take it out yet… Oh! I have a takeout bag.”

Connie moaned weekly.

“Do you need the bag?”

She coughed once and covered her mouth with a fist.

I scrambled out of bed and got the takeout bag. “If you need it -uh- it’s… I put it beside the bed.”

She went limp and took a deep breath. “Can you get my ibuprophin from the bathroom? I think I have a fever.”

It was very warm laying with her. I put a hand on her forehead. “Shit, Connie! What the hell?”

She winced. “Can you try not to yell?”

“Sorry. Right. You shouldn’t go to class. You’re really sick. Maybe we should go to the Minute Clinic or something.”

“I’m fine. It’s just a bug. That wave passed.” She leaned up on her elbow to work on her homework.

I thought for a second but grabbed the meds anyway. She swallowed them dry.

“Don’t you want some water?” I asked. My voice was surprisingly unsure.

“I don’t think I could keep it down…”

“You can’t go to class.”

“I have to.”

I hesitated… before sitting at the desk and opening the inseparables stream.

“Hey inseperables.”

I could feel Connie glaring behind me.

Laura: Hey!

Alex: Hi!

“Anyone else here? We need a team effort?

Ales: On what? U ok?

Breton: I’m here! I was shitting.

Laura: Ew. TMI

Alex: Everyone ok over there Dor?

“I’m fine,” I said. “Connie-“ I was interrupted by a coughing fit. I turned to see her folding in on herself. She knocked the laptop off the bed. I rushed over and sat her up as she coughed, both arms wrapped tightly over her stomach.

The fit passed and she gasped for breath and moaned.

“I- I’m okay,” she said. “Go back to the inseperables. I’ve got homework.”

Alex: That is NOT ok

Laura: You’re gonna get sick! But also you have to take care of her?! WHAT DO??

Breton: WTF CONNIE HAS THE PLAGUE

“Connie wants to go to class today,” I explained. “Fever. Nauseous. Coughing fits like this all the time. Back me up guys! She can’t go, right?”

Alex: DON’T YOU DARE! I DON’T WANT THAT!

Laura: I get it, but it’s still not a good idea. Connie, you could get hurt.

Breton: once i got a fishing hook stuck in my hand, but it wasn’t my writing hand so i went to school

Laura: WTF Breton?!

“See? They agree!” I said, turning back. “Well except for Breton. But he doesn’t count!”

Breton: Hey! I went to the ER after classes!! But she’s supposed to do homework after classes…

Alex: shut up! Don’t remind her!

Laura: What would her parent’s do?

“Probably kill her, but that doesn’t-“

“It’s two o’clock,” Connie said. “I gotta get out of here.”

Connie stood, and quickly grabbed the top bunk with wide eyes.

I rushed to her as she swayed. “Connie? You okay?”

She went limp, and I caught her in time to lower her to the mattress again.

Eyes fluttering. “Gotta go… No time…”

“I’m not letting you leave now.” I looked at the computer. “She’s awake.” Then back at her. “You need to rest. You can’t go to class. You’re too sick.”

“Havetoogo….” she murmured.

“No, Connie. You’re not going anywhere.” I adjusted her so she was in a more comfortable position on the bed. She shivered, and I put the blankets over her again. I fluffed the pillow, and I moved the laptop far out of reach so she couldn’t get it back. “You rest.”

“can’t…”

“Well you’re gonna.”

I sat at the computer the chat had been going without me.

Alex: SHIT SHIT SHIT IS SHE OK?!

Laura: Lay her on her side so she doesn’t choke on her tongue!

Laura: Wait… that’s for drunk people…

Breton: Is she dead? Fuck, i thought my ship would sink in the normal college sweetheart way…

Laura: Okay, I googled it. Water, fever reducers, and cool cloth NOW

Laura: DOROTHY

Alex: Welcome back, Dorothy! Update please??

I smiled sadly at the webcam. “Connie fainted. Probably from the fever. She won’t be getting up for a while… She’s conscious though. Er, I think.” I glanced back to see her blinking blearily around the room. “Mostly.”

Laura: You need to bring the fever down!

“I know, Laura. I’m going to. Maybe I should just update you guys later. I think I should take Connie to the nurse. Or… maybe take the nurse to Connie. But I don’t know if I should leave her alone.

Alex: I don’t want to catch it. Not babystitting!

Alex: But I see if the nurse is in and bring her over.

“That would be such a huge help, Alex! Thank you!”

Laura: I’d help too if I was close enough.

Breton: If Connie dies, can I have her dresses? I wanna start roleplaying.

Laura: BRETON NO

Alex: Headed out now. Stay on the stream so I can just come back on if she’s not there.

“Will do,” I said.

I got up and went to Connie. Her eyes were heavy and drifting shut.

“Hey,” I said, sitting on the edge of the bed.

“Heyyy….” she mumbled.

I reached out and stroked her hair. She was burning hot and sticky with sweat.

She closed her eyes when I began stroking her.

“Is it nice?” I asked.

“Mmm…”

I continued stroking her hair and picked up one hand to kiss before putting it gently onto the bed. Slowly, Connie fell to sleep.

I got up and grabbed a facecloth from my drawer and checked the computer before I left. Laura and Breton were arguing about the ethically of Breton asking about Connie’s dresses. I went to rinse the cloth, squeezed it out into the bathroom sink, the cloud water feeling freezing in comparison to touching her forehead, and brought it back to Connie.

Before I put the cloth on her, I tucked her in better. I knew the cloth would feel cold, so I at least wanted her to be comfortable. I laid the facecloth gently over her forehead and eyes.

She flinched with a noise of surprise, then relaxed again.

I stroked her hair until her breaths became even again and went back to my computer. Still nothing from Alex, though Breton had given into Laura’s persistence.

“Okay, guys,” I whispered. “I think everything’s under control now. Hopefully, the nurse can come by.”

Just then, someone knocked at the door.

I opened it, instead of yelling. Treville stepped in, followed by Alex and the nurse.

“We have a sick sister?” Treville said, sounding genuinely concerned.

“Yeah. Connie. She’s been coughing, has got a fever, and has been really nauseous and having stomach pain. Not sure if there’s any other symptoms. She was trying to go to class like this when she fainted… I didn’t want to leave her alone.”

“So I helped,” Alex said.

“Right.”

The nurse looked awkwardly to Connie, and I realized she likely wouldn’t wake the sleeping student herself. I went over and shook her shoulder a bit. “Connie?”

She jumped and pulled the cloth off quickly. Her eyes darted from person to person then back to me. “Dorothy?”

“Yeah, it’s me. How are you feeling?”

“What’s going on? What time is it?”

“Do you remember what happened?”

“What do you mean? I was doing my homework. Must have drifted off.”

“Connie…” I was feeling kinda scared now. “You fainted. You would’ve hit your head on the bed frame if I wasn’t there. You’re really sick… So I called backup.”

She looked the others in the room. The nurse stepped forward. “Hi. I don’t think we’ve met before. I’m Nurse Holly. I was asked to come check on you. Would that be alright?”

Connie looked around again and back at me. “Dorothy, what’s happening?”

“You’re sick. The nurse is here to make sure you’re doing okay. Treville and Alex are here to help.”

“Actually, I’m out!’ Alex said. “I’m not catching that!” With that, she rushed out of the room.

“Okay, Treville is here to help. We’re worried about you, Connie. We just want you to be okay.”

She still looked really disoriented. It took me a second to process what she might have been feeling, but when I did, my voice softened.

“You’re safe, Connie. You’re gonna be okay. I just need you to let Nurse Holly take a look at you. I want to know if we should just let you rest here, or if I should take you to a doctor or something. That’s all, okay?” I kissed her forehead, slightly cooler now, and turned to the nurse. “She had ibuprofen a half-hour ago, and the cool cloth has been on her forehead for only like a minute or two. I don’t think she’s eaten or drank anything in at least a few hours. Says she won’t be able to keep it down.”

Holly nodded and knelt next to Connie. “Hey, Connie. Can I take a look at you?”

Starting to understand the situation a bit better, she nodded. “Yeah, sure. It’s probably just a bad cold…”

“Okay, dear. Can you sit up?”

Connie did, with more effort than I’m sure she would’ve liked to admit. I glanced at the computer quickly to see a flash of Laura.

Laura: This is really scary… I hope Connie’s ok??

I bit my lip. Was it that serious? I’ve never seen someone faint before. I was kinda scared myself. I looked back at the nurse, who was now taking Connie’s blood pressure and heart rate, then her temperature, pressed on areas of Connie’s stomach, and finally looked in her eyes, nose, mouth, and ears.

She stood when she was finished and faced all of us. “The ibuprofen should’ve kicked in by now, but her temp is still at 101. 3. If it stays above 100 for the next 3 hours that the ibuprofen is in her system, or if it spikes above 103, take her to a doctor or hospital immediately. At that point, it’s definitely something which needs to be treated professionally. Her throat and nose seem inflamed but don’t look infected or suspicious in any way. She doesn’t seem to be having any emergency situation with her organs, but she needs to drink water. Her blood pressure is low. She needs to eat. If these things get worse or don’t change, bring her to a doctor.”

“Noted,” Treville said. “I’ll keep an eye on these two. Have any other cases been reported to you?”

“No, but most students don’t come to me unless they have serious questions… or want to try and get out of class for allergies or something.”

“Also noted,” Treville said. “I’ll get the word out in the house that girls should be updating you when they have symptoms so that you know what’s going on throughout campus.”

“Thank you, Jean. And, Dorothy? You’re a good friend.”

Right. Not in the mood to argue. Just let it go.

“Thanks, Holly. And thanks for making sure she’s okay. Should I be worried?”

“It’s probably just a virus. Just keep an eye on her to make sure.

“Okay…”

We said our goodbyes, and Holly left. Treville e sat awkwardly on the purple seat. “You should alert me if one of you girls is ill. I don’t want anything happening to you.”

“Sorry,” I said. “Guess I didn’t know what to do cause it’s her info to share, and well…”

Connie was laying back in the bed, drifting in and out of sleep fitfully.

“Yes, of course.” Treville nodded with understanding. Recently, I’d learned anxiety was something she knew quite well. “How are you feeling, Dorothy?”

“Uh, me? Fine i guess?” Now that she asked, every fantom illness my brain could fathom started playing out in my head. I pushed it away before I could give myself fantom symptoms. “I’m fine.

“Well tell me immediately if you start feeling unwell. I can send a girl to take care of the two of you until you’re up for doing it yourselves.”

“Thanks. You probably shouldn’t be here either. You’re the president! You shouldn’t get sick.”

“True statement. I’m going to continue with my work for the day, but I’d like you to update me whenever you can.”

“You can always watch the live-“

“I don’t watch livestreams. Unedited content wastes valuable work time.”

I glanced at the computer.

Breton: DAMN

Laura: She’s not totally wrong…

Treville stood. “I’ll be going now. Good luck, Dorothy.”

“Thanks,” I said, watching her go. I looked back to a sleeping Connie then sat at my computer.

“So… okay. That just happened.”

Hey guys! Thinking about writing a part 2, but I’m not sure. Opinions? What did you think about this one? What fandoms do you want me to write for in the future? I wanna hear from you guys! :D

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