#one of my first memories ever is me twirling around in this big field by my house in a dress singing a bangles song lmao

[sweetsbfreex]

my baby, my baby

brought to u by me watching IW for the millionth time

Summary: You ask Steve for one thing before the fight against Thanos (IW), but for the first time in however long he denies you of fulfilling this wish.

Warnings: language?

Pairing: Nomad, Bf!Steve x thanos daughter!reader

-

He was manning the quinjet, not all the way true. Sam was flying the jet to Wakanda, Steve slumped in his seat beside Sam, in deep thought. His chin is set into his palm, his arm sitting up on the armrest, and his palm covering half of his mouth. Looking further down his leg was jittering steadily.

What would happen next was a pretty big deal, none of you on the jet knew what could go wrong. So obviously tensions were at an all time high in this cooped up jet. 

You rise up from your seat between Wanda and Nat. Walking yourself behind Steve’s chair. Your pointer finger taps his embellished shoulder, separating him from his apprehensive thoughts. He looks up at you and the creases that were once prominent in his forehead evaporated. 

You don’t utter anything, only nudging your head behind you. 

Follow me to the back.

Is what’s reciprocated when he too gets up from his seat, letting Sam know he’ll be up front in a second. Once you turn, he follows you down the small aisle to the side “room” away from all the prying ears. 

Finally.

You step into the room first. You weren't going to lie, your heart was beating with so much force and it only grew as he walked past you into the room. You close the door behind you, turning, so you're facing Steve's attentive figure. 

You only smile at him to some extent, prompted to show there were no ill intentions to asking him back here. When you see how nervous he looks, as you take his hand seating the both of you to a bench against the wall.

Your knees tenderly touch. He clears his throat coercing you to go on, raising an eyebrow in confusion. 

“You alright doll?” he asks you, in a gentle manner. Taking the already linked palms shifting it from your lap to his. His other hand blanketing your combined hands. 

“I’m okay. Are you?” you ask the question hesitantly, raising your spare hand to move aside the hair that fell over and veiled his eyes. You desperately wanted to make sure you got a good look at his face. You loved his face.  

His cheeks go plump in a charming smile, and his hand squeezes yours back. 

His hair was long. Longer than you would’ve ever imagined Steve would let it be. Either way you loved every inch of the gold locks. Yet, everytime you told him how much you loved it, despite his insecurity and slight annoyance with it. He'd always fall into a rampage down memory lane. Telling you how his late mother would've hounded him about the upkeep of his hair.  

You adored that about him too. Loved, that he loved so hard and so full. He’d never forget the ones he loved no matter what. 

“I’m swell, you don’t need to worry about me” he tells you. 

You didn’t believe him one bit and you weren’t going to push him about it. You knew how he was...stubborn as ever. But, it was also ,by and large, your job to worry about him–– after loving him of course. Contrary to what he would say (Which was vice-versa.)

“We’re gonna be okay...okay? But I have something to ask you. And you can’t get mad.”

“I’m not promising that, but we won’t shout. We’ll talk it out–– whatever it is”

It was the best you were going to get from him and time was closing in on you guys being able to be like this, anway.  

“I know how you are, but this is a really critical thing we're fighting for here. So, unless I'm in some type of grave danger. I don’t want you worrying about me on the field. No matter what...Make sure he doesn’t get that stone.” Your voice lets you down towards the end, starting to get scratchy and low. 

He stands up in no time. His hands going to his belt, then to his hips, he finally raises one hand to run against his beard.

His facial hair, another thing in the endless things you loved about Steve Rogers. 

When the stubble he usually shaves away kept growing into a full beard, it surprised you both. You in a hot kind of way, he became more adoring by day when decided to stop shaving. 

You walked in on him one day. He was facing the scratched up mirror in a bathroom in a dingy hotel room. Running his fingers against his face, the other clutching onto the edge of the counter. Tilting his head back and to, eyes shifting as he looked over his face. It was another part of the effect of the serum he didn’t expect would happen. 

Telling you a story as he wandered down memory lane again. How he had problems growing stubble as a sickly kid–– so behind on puberty. He even watched Bucky grow his first “stache” at sixteen, but that came to an abrupt stop when Bucky’s mother made him shave it off. 

Steve thought It was weird to think that he could now also.

You were still sitting on the bench. Swiveling your body so you were facing your boyfriend, looking up at his fidgeting build with care. 

Feeling like a child waiting for their parents to dispute whatever impending punishment they would grant. 

“Why would you ask me that?” he finally, finally disrupts his silence. Scoffing at the offensive question. 

He doesn’t look at you with anything negative, only confusion.

“Because. I don’t want you jumping in front of whatever it is in front of me...I know him, he’s my dad. He’ll do anything to get what he wants, even if it means I die.”

When Steve told you that it was actually Bruce calling and told you what he said. He looked at you baffled when the shirt you were about to put on dropped from your grasp.

Once you told him you had knowledge of Thanos and how you knew him, there was a pregnant silence in the air.

If anything it filled the rage towards Thanos in Steve even more, by the time you finished. 

“Are you listening to yourself?” he questions you in disbelief, lips stuck in a sneer.

“Please. Just please, angel.” you maintain.  

You don’t answer either of his questions and he truly hates that. He stays silent for a bit watching your seated figure, looking up at him with the saddest eyes you’ve ever given him. His puzzled eyes shift down to your bobbing leg and your hands wringing together with so much speed and anguish.

He could probably throw up right now.  

And when he shifts his eyes up again, you keep that same look on your face waiting for him to say anything.

He sighs dejectedly, dropping his hands to his side, and walking himself back over to you. He sits closer to you than before. Extending a gloved hand to caress your cheek before fixing the flyaways from your sleek ponytail.  

“I can’t. You’ll always be my priority, and I won’t promise something like that sweetheart” he tells you this languidly. His thumb starts to rub circles against your cheekbone, to calm you down, when he catches the way your eyes widen at his admission.  

“Steve!” your voice breaks. So shocked, you can’t hold back the tears that build up and fall slowly over your face. 

You couldn’t believe this. He’s supposed to love you. Time and time again he’d always remind you how much he loves you and how he’d do anything for you–– too hard to say no to you, his words. Thinking this over you pull your face away from his hold, looking down at your taut hands. This wasn’t a silly death wish. You had to make sure your father didn’t get what he desired, no matter what. 

He hates having to watch you cry, but he doesn’t have much of a choice now. He needs to stand his ground, there was no way he would be arguing about this. And he does this, grabbing your face with a light hand,  so you were face to face again. 

"I love you so much. And if I have to choose between letting you die and Thanos losing. Or you living and watching the universe crumble, you know exactly what I'm gonna choose. I'm not losing you, not if I have anything to do with it"

Albeit how dumb it sounded, there is no notable instance in his life where’d let you perish over him. 

“You’re not thinking this through” you hiccup.

“It’s you, isn’t it? There’s not much to think about”  he smiles at you and as you look at him you can see his eyes glazing over. 

His statement only causes you to cry more. You feel nothing but the pain in your heart and the repositioning of your body. It takes you a moment to realize you’re settled on his thighs sideways. His well built arm warmly wraps around your shoulder, your temple rests against his shoulder, and his lips are placing light kisses to the crown of your head. 

You incline your head, “I love you too much” you say in an awed whisper, raising a hand to twirl in the strands at the back of his collar. Following that, you let your hand spread across the back of his neck pulling him down for a kiss.

“After this we’re done okay? We have our pardon and are going to buy whatever house you want to get. I’m gonna buy you the prettiest engagement ring money can buy, Gonna get whatever animals you want,” you chuckle at that part.

If there was one thing Steve learned while living incognito with you is that you’d save any animal if you were able to. Always stopping whenever you passed by any animal in need in the drary streets. Looking up at Steve, who’d always have to remind you that neither of you could give it the life it deserves right now. Opting to only go to the nearest convenience store to buy whatever safe animal food in sight. 

His hand immediately clutches your face to wipe away the tears that fell without pattern. His smile grows fonder when you do the same.  “‘Can paint the house whatever we decide...maybe even get a house big enough to fit the kids we’ll have?” he tells you the last part in such a timid manner, bearing one of his hands to clutch yours. His thumb running over your knuckles at full tilt. 

The only thing you were able to give him was a stunned look. So shocked you were unable to react like a normal person. 

You squeeze his hand tight only being able to stutter a “really?”

“Of course. I want to have a bunch of small Rogers with you, wreaking havoc around our house” he admits this to you, carrying out such strong eye contact. If his hand didn’t slither down your back, supporting you up and grounding you, you’d jump in glee. 

Fuck. Neither of you had talked about this, but you were glad that you both were on the same page about his. You felt terrified but in a good way, wanting to wholly get this over with and start this dream life with Steve. 

“And this is all gonna happen, because everything is going to go well. We’re gonna win, I don’t want you thinking like that or asking me something like that ever again. Thanos will never be on our list of priorities ever again.”

“I’m sorry, baby. I can’t wait to start that life with you” you respond, winding your arms around his neck, crashing your lips to his with force.

He pulls away without notice to place hasty kisses to your cheek, loving the giggles you emitted. Even so, the energy in the room shifts too soon when Sam knocks on the door. Steve allows him entrance. 

“Sorry to interrupt, but we’re about to land Cap”

Steve responds by nodding his head once, stiffly. Letting him know he’d be out in a second. 

You get off of his thighs, so the both of you were standing chest to chest. He claps your worried face. Pulling you into him with little force, so his lips could fall to your forehead, nose, and lips. 

“Remember what I said and be safe, I love you”

“I love you” you recite, bringing his hand down to kiss his covered palm.

With that he envelops you in his arm, his cheek resting against the top of your head. Both of you breathing each other in. Your shoulders relaxing at his loving touch. 

He’d do whatever needed to keep you safe and if it ended in his death, then so be it. You’d do the same for him in a heartbeat, there was no point in either of you arguing this one out. 

––––

Everyone was tired, it seemed like this fight only dragged on with the never-ending monsters. But, with the help of Thor (of course) it seemed like things were only getting positive from there. With the way he rendered lightning, destroying things into dust, you were ready to end this once and for all.  

And when a cloud of grey smoke appeared out of thin air, and a large titanian appeared. You knew this would either be the ending or the beginning of all these troubles. 

“That’s him” you falter, turning to Steve. You give him a quick once over, nothing the way he eyed your father. A menacing, scary look on his face and the furrow of his eyebrows only grow. 

“We have eyes on Thanos” he says into the intercom.

It’s like time stands still for a few seconds, no one moves a muscle. You haven't seen this man in years. You feel as if he doesn't recognize who you are as he glances over everyone, like they're roaches in his kitchen. 

Yet, in a blur, everyone takes their chance on Thanos. Trying their hardest to somehow, someway take this Titanian down. Bruce gets thrown with a shout, Branches entwine Nat, and Sam drops from the air smoothly. 

At some point you hear the grunt of Steve, who somehow gets some punches in, his hands clutching the gauntlet. He shouts from the hefty weight and in a swift motion is stock-still on the ground from the punch he endures. 

“Steve!”

Without a choice you run towards Thanos, your adrenaline kicking in. Kicking in punching only to use your hands to grasp around the metal. You knew towards the end; you were no match for him. 

“Please! Please don’t do this. Dad please I’m begging you” you plead profusely, but he only looks down at you emotionless. “Please, please, please” you cry, your head hangs low for a bit before you raise it up again. “This won’t fix anything! You–– you…JUST TAKE IT OFF” you scream, knuckles colliding with the gold.

You try so hard to think of anything to turn his mind, but he only looks at you like a stranger. Not the little girl he recruited and used to look at with some kind of affection. His type of affection, if you could even title it that, affection. 

Sure, he raised you to be a ruthless killer and thief, but you’d do anything in this key moment to change his crooked mind. 

“You don’t get to call me that again. You chose your path...I always knew you’d be the one to let me down the most” he says all this with so much venom. 

You cry as you're lifted in the air, by his gauntlet hand, and thrown against the bark of a tree. 

You're in a daze. The only things securing you back is the hand against your cheek and a booming, choked up "no". Hearing it a distance away.

You open your eyes to see Steve in front of you, your name on his lips almost incessantly. But when you open them, your eyes quickly move to Thor. Who’s a few feet away from the two of you, shocked and angry. The remnant of smoke in the air. You knew he did it.

“We lost?” you ask Steve, tears already forming in your eyes, as he carefully lifts you to his feet.

He doesn’t get the chance to answer you, though. 

“Steve…?” It’s Bucky, You both look towards him to see him fall slowly, disappearing into a brown dust. 

You both look on, shocked all while Steve tries to drag himself and your weak body to Bucky. But it’s already too late. 

“Buck?!” Steve calls out, but there’s no answer.

You watch on in disorder, stomach plummeting with every second that pasts.  Your eyes catch Wanda looking onto Vision's body in sorrow and as you do, she turns into brown dust.  It was frightening and you were speechless. So much happening around you, you weren’t sure where to look. You weren’t who was going away. 

The hand against your spine, holding you up, starts to feel faint and a headache you had suffered from earlier comes back, but ten times stronger. 

“My head hurts” you tell him, your words come out slowly as your mouth starts to feel numb. You drop your head to his shoulder. “Stevie...I can’t feel your hands” you blubber, chest heaving as your breathing picks up. Everything was happening so, so fast. 

He lifts your head, “Hey, you’re alright sweetheart, you took a hard hit. Just a bit banged up, gotta stay awake in case it’s a concussion” he reassures you.

You don’t believe him and when you look down at your right hand to see it crumbling away little by little. You lift your wrist up, hand gone. You look down to see the brown dust below your view. 

You didn’t want to go. You had merely planned your dream future with him. It wasn’t fair your father would be the one to rip that away from you.

“No. No, you’re alright, stop that” he condemns, bringing your other hand to his bruised lips imperatively. Watching as it climbs up and up, half of your shoulder  already gone. 

“I’m scared. I love you so much Steve”

“I love you so much doll, feel like we’ve been saying it all day” he tries to joke, eyes roaming all over your face. He had to make sure he had your face recognized to a t, even if it was in a manner of pain. 

And you do the same. You weren’t sure where you were going. Were you even dying?! You couldn’t tell, all you knew was Steve and some of your friends wouldn’t be where you were going.

You laugh despondently, low, and mirthlessly knowing how much he needed that laugh at the moment.

“No. I’m gonna––” you start, but never get to finish, because at that moment. In a flash, he’s left with the sight of the soot falling in a sway, like leaves tumbling to the ground. Staring at him gloved palms to see nothing of you there any longer. 

He does nothing but stand there for a few minutes, recollecting the exchange. Not only was his best friend gone, but so was his best girl.  

He had one fucking job. Keep you safe at all times. Not only did he let the whole universe down, he let you down. You were gone. He can only think about the moment you both had on the jet, telling you, you had nothing to worry about. Because you guys were going to win and now she is gone.  He let you down in the worst possible way imaginable. You were gone…

He repeats this to himself, losing hope each time that you would be back in just a second. 

He turns around to see his friends observing him and once he notices that Sam is no longer among the group it only increases his agony. 

“Cap?” Nat mumbles.

“FUCK!” he breaks. Ripping the gloves off his hand before he sets himself against the ground–– his body feeling heavy. His head is in his hand, body heaving roughly as he cries quietly.

Everyone is stunned and takes a step back to give his face, not remembering the last time they’ve seen him this broken or the last he’s had an outburst resulting in a curse word. 

He isn’t sure how he’s supposed to live with this guilt or without you by his side. In spite of that,  there was no way in hell he wasn’t going to try and find a way to bring you back.

– – – – 

realized while writing thing i am not creative...this (beginning) was literally a scene

if you enjoyed pls don’t forget to reblog or give feedback if ur up to it <3

[boldlyvoid]

Amoreena | Chapter Five

Chapter Five

main summary: Heaven is a real place and it's located exactly 14.6 miles away from the FBI, Quantico Headquarters. Off behind a small park, under a fantastical willow tree surrounded by wildflowers, in every colour young minds can imagine.

Don't forget, heaven also comes with angels.

Chapter Summary: (fluff only) weekly Saturday reading only they are joined by an extra 15 lost boys, not just Spencer

Warnings (adding as they happen): fluff, hurt/comfort, depressed spencer, reader has a daughter, falling in love, strangers to lovers, library smut, oral (female receiving) lots and lots of fluff

word count: 3K

from the beginning <3

He woke up Saturday morning to the sound of a bunch of voices coming from beyond the walls of his room. Only it wasn’t his room, it was the room he slept in when he stayed with Y/N and Amoreena, he hasn’t left since he arrived on Thursday and he had no plan to either.

They still hadn’t told her about their relationship, not wanting her to come crawling into bed with her mom in the morning to find Spencer there too. She wasn’t ready to explain to Amoreena what it meant for Spencer to be in her bed, how they were in love and that she might need to learn how to knock before entering.

So he slept in the spare room, completely contently because he knew she was only on the other side of the wall, instead of 30 minutes away like she would be when he slept at his own apartment.

It had been a week since he saw them reading in the park, and now they were his family. It was incredibly fast, anyone who heard the news would say so. But that’s how his life worked, he blew through everything incredibly fast, it only made sense for him to skip every step in the book and become a stepdad overnight.

He woke up then, missing Y/N and Amoreena as he thought about the last week. Finally getting dressed and peaking outside, through the crack in the blinds, to see what was going on on the farm.

There were a bunch of men in the field with the cows dropping new cattle off in a big truck as a bunch of children ran around the yard. Y/N wasn’t kidding when she said her 7 siblings had produced 15 cousins for Amoreena to play with. Children all between the ages of toddler and 7-years-old, screaming while they ran after Rufus and the cats, it was a pure dopamine rush to witness.

He found Y/N in the living room, a book in one hand and a coffee in the other, “good morning cutie, all the ruckus on the farm wake you up?” She did her best fake southern accent as she smiled at him. Beautiful as ever in the early morning sunshine.

He nodded with a yawn, sitting beside her and snuggling into her shoulder. She placed her mug in his hands so she could wrap an arm around him and pull him in closer, letting him take a sip of coffee and become a real person again.

He noticed she was reading a book he had never seen before, reading the pages and not know the words. It was a first for him.

“What’s that one about?”

Y/N closed it to let him look at the cover. It was a hand-bound book, wrapped in green fabric that was at least 30 years old and in well-loved condition. The gold lettering reading Amoreena, along with a pressed gold rose and the author's name. He had never heard of it before.

“My grandma was an aspiring writer and the reason I love books so much, her name was Peggy and she had a dream once about a wonderful little girl named Amoreena and the magical life she created for herself. She wrote it all down and my grandpa had it typed and bound for her, she was so proud of this book,” Y/N gushed, smiling as she held it to her chest softly, thinking of all the memories Spencer didn’t know yet.

“Really?” Spencer couldn’t help but smile at her.

She nodded softly, “she loved Elton John, so much so that when my sister Ashley came out she threw her a party. Almost all those kids out there are Ashley's, by the way, she went down the adoption and foster root after I did IVF.”

She pointed out the front window at all the people gathered on her land, “Ben and Dylan dropped their kids off too while they help dad and Evan with the farm. Those are my brothers in case you didn’t know their names yet, there’s also Carver and Francis but they don’t live as close.”

Her little life was just so perfect, “did they want to come with us to read this afternoon? We need some lost boys.”

“They’d love that, are you sure you can handle 16 kids between the two of us?” she smiled, pure love spreading through her body as she held him.

“They’re not so different from psychopaths right?” He teased, watching her settle against him even more as they enjoyed their Saturday together.

“What else can you tell me about your grandma?” He snuggled into her more as he asked, wanting to know as much about her happiness as possible.

“She was always listening to music, she loved Elton's song Amoreena the most. It was the song she played for the majority of my childhood. It only made sense for me to name my little miracle Amoreena too, cause I wouldn’t have her unless nanny suggested I have a baby.”

“I would have loved to meet her.”

Y/N’s smile changed then, “she would have loved you and your big mind.”

“My mom wants to meet you and Amoreena,” he announces softly, he hasn’t really told her anything about his family yet.

“What’s she like?”

“She has schizophrenia and Alzheimer’s and she lives in a care home in DC right now, I try and see her when I can but she has her own schedule so I have to fit around when she’s having a good day,” it was hard to explain it to most people, but not to her. He didn’t feel any shame or fear in introducing them. Y/N was the most loving human, and Amoreena was just the same.

“When is she free next?” A simple question that made him feel incredibly giddy.

“Tuesday from 3-5,” he snuggled in closer to her as she wraps her arm around him.

“We’ll pick Amoreena up from school after work and take her over,” Y/N agreed, their lives intertwining like they were always meant to.

Like she was the ivy on his old cottage, she took him in and made him her own, wrapping herself all around him and never letting him go again.

He basically finishes her coffee while she holds him on the couch. The sound of the kids outside making them laugh every once in a while, dogs barking and cows mooing, the farm was alive and roaring while they enjoyed each other's company.

“Did you bring your costume for the reading today?”

He sat right up then, looking at her like she lost her mind, “of course I did, I wouldn’t have Penelope spend a week tracking down a Captain Hook costume just to forget it.”

Y/N’s jaw dropped, “you didn’t?!”

He simply nodded with a cheeky grin, “come on Tinker Bell, everyone knows she had a thing for Hook.”

“Who didn’t? He was the first and last bad boy I was interested in, I typically go more for Milo’s and Ariel’s; full of adventure and always learning something new,” Y/N teased him.

“Mhm, I always had a thing for Aladdin and Belle in search of far off lands and happy endings,” he mused, making her smile just as much as he was, “but for real it was between Hook and Wendy for my costume,” he made her laugh again, wanting to hear it for the rest of time.

“You still can, I have a blue nightgown you can borrow,” it was so easy for them to flirt, it fit into their conversation so simply it felt like they had been together forever.

He couldn’t help leaning in to kiss her, resting her back against the couch softly as she held onto him. He loved kissing her, she tasted like coffee and happiness every single time. She made the cutest sounds when they would make out like she was surprised by it or she wasn’t used to it at all.

She made him feel like he was young again like he was 21 and in love for the first time. All his trauma disappeared and that Spencer who used to stare back at him in the mirror was gone now. That guy packed his bags and left the farm to never be seen again.

Good fucking riddance is all he had to say.

He was happy, he enjoyed being happy and he was going to stay happy. It was the only goal he had going forward, and as long as he was in her embrace, surround by the laugher of her child and family, he knew it would be possible.

Amoreena came running inside then, finding the two of them making out on the couch before they could part from each other.

“Ewww!” She cried, jumping on top of the two of them and knocking the wind out of Spencer.

“Get off,” Y/N tried to speak as she was crushed by the two of them. “Mom down!”

Spencer picks Amoreena up then, taking her away from the couch and spinning her around like she’s an airplane. She cheers and cheers and doesn’t want him to put her down because it’s so fun. The next thing he knows he’s being dragged outside to twirl all the kids around like they’re Peter Pan, flying through the air on their way to Neverland.

He’s surrounded by giggles and tickles fights, he’s tackled down against the dirt as a herd of tiny children dog pilled him. Laughing until he cried, feeling more joy than humanly possible and then Y/N’s telling them all to get ready to he’d to the park.

Coming down the stairs in a pirate costume to a bunch of screaming kids was an experience and a half. Spencer couldn’t believe how happy it made them all to imagine Captain Hook had broken into the house and Amoreena, or Peter Pan as she corrected him, chased him outside with all the lost boys.

He took a moment to learn all their names, all 15 of them, however, unlike the cats, they had relatively normal people names.

Kate, Cade, Jet, Lauren, Cassie, Sara, Evan, Benny, Olivia, Jessie, Owen, Maddie, Gwen, August, and Parker, were the cutest little family of cousins. some looked like Amoreena, some looked like their own mothers, a handful of them were adopted out of the country, they were the most perfect cast of lost boys.

He's never had any cousins, no pets, no siblings. His life never felt lonely until he realized what he missed out on.

“Dad,” Amoreena whispered as she tugged on his shirt lightly, “look!”

She pointed towards the house where Y/N was standing. When she said she was going as Tinker Bell he really didn’t think she meant looking exactly like Julia Roberts at the end of Hook.

She looked magical in her beautiful white dress, curly hair with the most perfectly placed flowers and flawless wings wrapped around her shoulders. She was a vision standing on the porch, waiting for him to pick his jaw up off the floor and compliment her.

“Tink,” the words are more like air, soft and barely there.

“Is Captain Hook being nice? Or should we take him to the pond and let the Alligators deal with him?” Y/N teased, marching down the stairs and poking Spencer's chest.

“Ouch,” he teased her, holding his hand over his heart to make her feel bad.

But she didn’t, “some Pirate you are,” she teased, sticking her tongue out at him before taking Amoreena’s hand and running off down the trail towards the main house, everyone following her lead.

Nanny packed enough snacks for all 16 kids, and a little extra just in case. Spencer slipped the lunch box over his shoulder and they made their way towards the adventure. Y/N pulling a wagon just in case the littlest ones didn’t want to walk anymore. It was spectacular.

Y/N stopped then, pretending to stand like an army man turning around abruptly to look at the troop. “Lost boys, are we ready?”

“Yes, Tinker Bell!” They cheered back.

“On my lead, 1, 2, 1, 2, 3, 4,” she marched, bringing her knees up high as they all followed her down the path. “We’re following the leader, the leader, the leader,” she began to sing.

Spencer was in awe, his heart felt like it was going to explode as he watched everyone follow her. Singing along as they marched their tiny little butts down to the park.

“We’re following the leader wherever she may go!” Amoreena yelled the lyrics back, leading the pack as Peter Pan should.

“Tee dum, tee dee, a teedle ee do tee day Tee dum, tee dee, it's part of the game we play Tee dum, tee dee, the words are easy to say Just a teedle ee dum, a teedle ee do tee day

Tee dum, tee dee, a teedle ee do tee dum We're one for all, and all of us out for fun We march in line and follow the other one With a teedle ee do, a teedle ee do tee dum”

It was like magic, they all knew the words and they sang the whole way down the path. Every verse and then repeating it. Not a single kid strayed from the path, no one complained about sore feet or hot backs, they loved their Aunty Y/N and so did Spencer.

“We’re off on an adventure, adventure, adventure,” Y/N changed the words, making him smile as she brought happiness into the world. “We’re off on an adventure to read out in the sun! Tee dum, tee dee, a teedle ee do tee day…”

Every single time he thought she had given him the best day of his life, she manages to outdo herself.

—

They barely listened to the story, it was a disaster of epic proportions but they tried. 15 kids is a lot to handle as an ex FBI agent and a librarian, they had lunch and instead ran around the field playing lost boys instead. It was still an amazing afternoon.

He was going to be covered in bruises the next morning. He had been kicked, poked, trampled, jumped on, the whole 9 yards. They were the most energetic bunch in the whole world, and then they came home to ice cream.

“Y/N,” Spencer finally pulled her aside when all the kids were preoccupied with their cold snack after a hot day.

“Yes, cutie?” It was a nickname that was sticking, much like pretty boy, and he didn’t mind it at all.

“We’re going to need more than 2 songs tonight to get her to go to bed,” he teased, stepping into that step-dad role with ease.

She couldn’t stop smiling at him, wrapping him up in her arms gently so he didn’t crush her fairy wings. “We’ll take her swimming, that’ll tire her out instead. Are you lookin’ for some alone time?”

“I love her dearly, but I can’t kiss you as much when she’s around,” he whispered before pecking her quickly and hearing the group of lost boys pretend to be sick.

“Just because he’s my dad doesn’t mean you have to be gross like your mom and dad, mom,” Amoreena’s smart mouth making them both shake their heads and laugh.

“What would you do if I did this?” Y/N teased before dipping Spencer back like a princess and kissing him, he stuck his foot out in shock as she held him there.

“Ewww!!” All the kids yelled as she returned him to his feet.

“Or this?” Y/N pulled him into another kiss, her leg popping like Princess Mia’s in the princess diaries.

Amoreena and her cousins were all screaming then, laughing at how gross their aunt and her new boyfriend were being. Used to it clearly, their grandparents were just as in love and watching from the porch as they held each other on the swing.

“I love you,” Spencer announced, loud enough for all to hear without a care in the world.

“You better,” she smiled. “I love you too, cutie,” she added before kissing him one last time.

His life felt perfectly complete.

Y/N’s brothers were incredibly kind just like her. He learned that Ashley was the oldest with 5 kids and her wife Susie, then Ben who was 46 and his wife Shannon, they had 3 kids. Dylan and Laurie had 4 and Even, her twin brother had 3.

Turns out her mom had 2 sets of twins back to back, 7 children and only 5 pregnancies. It felt crazy for him to think about having that many people in his life for his whole life, he wouldn’t have known what to do with anyone more than just his mother growing up.

Spencer helped Bob with the barbecue, they made burgers and hotdogs for all 16 of the children while they continued to run through the fields. They had enough energy to last them 5 straight days of chaos. It was amazing.

Y/N and Spencer managed to wander off while all the kids ate, sitting under a tree with their dinner so they could finally have some time alone together.

She was beautiful, sitting in the afternoon amber glow as she tried to keep her hair from blowing in her face. Tucking the strands behind her ears so she could eat her dinner in peace before spencer handed her the hair tie on his wrist. Then she got ketchup on her cheek, seemingly on purpose as she smiled at him and laughing as Spencer wiped it off with his thumb. He was so in love he felt stupid, smiling at her like he’s never seen another person before, absolutely enamoured.

“Derek and his wife wanted to come over tomorrow and have his son meet Amoreena if that’s okay?”

Her face lit up, “his son is the one named after you right? Not your godson?”

He nodded with yet another smile, his lips were going to fall off at this point. “Yeah, he’s the sweetest little guy, Hank’s never been to a farm before.”

“You tell them our gates are always own to new minds and pure hearts,” she smiled. “That’s what nanny used to say.”

He leans in and kisses her then, resting his forehead against hers as she held his cheek in her free hand, smiling ever so softly as she stared into his eyes, they didn’t need words, he knew she loved him too. A week of pure bliss had passed within the blink of an eye, and they still had forever to go.

Taglist: @shemarmooresfedora @spookyspence @spencers-dria @manuosorioh @reidsfish @mochionly (send me an ask if you want to be added to the tag list, I don't always see every reply! i love you guys thank you so much for reading)

[wille-zarr]

The Mandalorian: “Kissing is Disgusting”

In Fields of White ~ Chapter Eight ~ “Kissing is Disgusting”

masterlist / previous chapter / next chapter

pairing: din djarin (the mandalorian) x f!reader

warnings: rated M for language; angst; threats of violence; alcohol consumption

word count: 12.7k

chapter summary: after waving goodbye to life on arvala-7, you anxiously continue along your journey to nar shaddaa... but when tensions erupt and dangers arise, your bond with the mandalorian is put to the ultimate test.

story summary: fleeing from the life you wish more than anything to forget, you are left to navigate the galaxy alone as a wide-eyed wanderer. in the process of evading the dangers linked to your previous life, your destiny is forever altered when you cross paths with an intimidating mandalorian and his unusually gifted child.

a/n: fluff and angst awaits!

also found on: Ao3

In Fields of White

Chapter Eight: “Kissing is Disgusting”

Well, so much for promising yourself to behave around the Mandalorian… Only ten days since you were gutted like a colo claw fish, and you’re already back to flirting with a vengeance.

You will never learn, will you?

“Not bad, Ka’r’ika.”

You stare at the target, your brows creasing as you assess your hit.

“Not bad? Kriff it, Din! Look at that!” You fling your arm out in the direction of the target. “My vibroblade hit the inner target ring this time! Almost the bullseye!” You spin around, glaring daggers at him. “How about you give me just a little bit of positive praise for once?” You cross your arms tightly across your chest, a smirk tickling on your lips. “Or would that kill you?”

The Mandalorian tilts his head to the side, hooking two fingers in his belt as he stares over at you. “I did give you praise,” he grumbles through his vocoder. 

“Not bad? You call that praise?” You purse your lips, a smile threatening to break the character you were playing. “Din Djarin, have you ever taught anyone anything before? Positive praise is a crucial part of the learning process.” 

You bite the inside of your cheek to keep from laughing at the heavy, long-suffering sigh that slips beneath his helm. 

“Fine. You’re doing… okay.” His voice is dry, utterly unbothered by your grievances.

“Well, if I’m still not meeting the Mandalorian’s standards-” you march over to the target, yanking out your vibroblade from where it juts from the board- “you’ll just have to show me how to throw the blade again, step-by-step.” 

You casually stroll towards him, twirling the blade between your fingers. Flashing Din an impish grin, you hold your vibroblade out expectantly.

The Mandalorian sighs, heavy and tired. But you’ve spent enough time with him that you could now detect the jest, the amusement layered within his tone.

Spinning around to face the board, it takes every ounce of your willpower to keep from giggling like a schoolgirl as his hands curl around your shoulders, pulling you back against his chest. 

Maybe it was a tad conniving of you, but…

You’ve been, uh… faking bad throws… Lots of them.

In fact, you really didn’t require any training from the Mandalorian in vibroblade throwing. A few days prior, you took the initiative to do some independent practice. It only took a few initial swings, and your muscle memory kicked back in, each one of your throws hitting the bullseye, true and center.

But, well, let’s just say you have a reason- a good, though admittedly mischievous reason- for feigning incompetence at the moment… 

“Okay, Ka’r’ika-” Din’s gloved hand glides around your shoulder, gently inching its way down your right arm. He pauses at your wrist. “Relax this,” he rumbles right above your ear, his left hand lightly squeezing your shoulder. 

“And stop tensing.”

Oh, karking hells. You clench your teeth, trying to ignore how big and warm and close he is. How the kriff are you supposed to just not tense with the Mandalorian glued to the back of your body like a blasted Mynock? 

“Breathe.”

“I am breathing!” you squeak. Okay, maybe you had been holding your breath, but, again, he’s glued to your back like a Mynock leeching off electromagnetic energy. How the hell are you supposed to just blasted… breathe?

“Loosen your stance,” he whispers in your ear, releasing your wrist. He takes a step back, and you frown at the loss of his comforting- though admittedly distracting- presence.

You stare at the bullseye, letting your eyes drop-drop-drop down to the outer ring. 

There. 

Your target. With one last little smirk, you fling your arm back, shift your body weight forward, and give a sharp snap of the wrist.

Bang.

You hit exactly where you intended, the outer ring. Holy shavit, your dad would be proud! 

“Hell yeah!” 

You catch Din staring at you, head angled curiously at your elation over an apparently even worse throw than before. “Oh, um-” you shrug, flipping your grin for a scowl- “Din, I, uh, I’m just really bad at this. Please, let’s practice hand-to-hand defense now. I’ll have more use for that anyway.”

“No,” he grunts, stalking towards the target to yank your blade out. “You aren’t healed enough.”

“Come on, Din!” You drop down into a fighting stance as he slowly strides back towards you. “I am perfectly healed. Omera’s slathered me in enough bacta to heal a chopped-in-half dewback.” 

He moves closer, and you playfully reach out to slap the back of your hand against his Beskar-armored chest. 

“Come on, Mandalorian, what are you- WHU- HEY!”

He’s bent you over backwards, trapping you against his side with an arm wrapped around your waist.

“OOF! DIN!”

“This is what you wanted.”

“Let me go! I wasn’t ready!” 

“You weren’t?”

Stars, you hate that stupid smugness in his voice! You wiggle against his hold, but he only presses you tighter under his arm.

“Blast it, Din!” You fling out your hand, landing a sharp smack against his ass. “Let me go, you rusted tin can!”

He drops his hold, and you stumble out from under his arm. You promptly flip around, shooting daggers into his darkened visor. He just stares right back, resting both hands on his hips, all cool and calm against your fire.

You reach up, bunch your hat in your hand, and smack it down against your thigh. “Din Djarin!” you snap. “You take too much pleasure in dominating me!”

He does not answer. Just… stands there- his visor latched on you. 

You open your mouth to speak, but you slap it shut when he sharply angles his head to the side. “Ready to try the blade again?” His voice is gruffer than usual, gravelly. Deep and, blast it, okay! 

Fucking sexy.

You yank the hat back on your head, crossing your arms tightly across your chest. “Yeah, sure,” you mumble, averting your eyes from him. “And I will hit that karking bullseye.”

You will. Kriff it. You’re done playing your little flirtatious game for attention. It’s time to show the Mandalorian what you’ve been holding back. Make him bloody well proud of you…. Not that you care to make him proud or anything…

You dig the heel of your foot into the dirt, marking your distance from the target. “Watch and learn, Man-do.”

A hand slips under your arm, gripping your elbow from behind. “Relax this time,” Din rasps, low and deep, into your ear. He releases your elbow as swiftly as he had grabbed it. You swallow, ignoring the little lurch in your stomach.

Stars, this man is a menace.

You shake your head, trying to clear it of… uh, distraction. Sighing under your breath, you stare out at the target.

There.

The bullseye.

Pull back.

Aim.

Throw-

“Hello!”

“Pablo!” you yelp, watching as your vibroblade flings well above the target, missing the board altogether. “You absolute dune worm!” Spinning around, you stomp straight up to where Pablo stands a few feet behind Din. 

Pablo leaps back, hands forward in surrender. “Wait, what did I do?” He points a finger at himself.

“You-” you slap his hat back- “made me miss!”

With a sharp snort, he leans down to stare you directly in the eyes. “Maybe you just need more practice, sweetheart.”

“Oh, look who’s talking!” You push against his chest. “A man encased in carbonite until I saved-”

“Oh, here we go again! I told y-”

“Din kicked your ass.”

“I was distract-”

“Froze your ass.”

“He was lucky-”

“And I melted your ass.”

“Now look-” 

Pablo stills, slapping his mouth shut.

At the same time, a heavy shadow drapes over your body, cloaking you within a protective cocoon. You look to the right.

“Mando,” you smirk up at Din. “I’ve changed my mind. Teach me to use a staff. Then I can keep Pablo six feet away at all times.”

You hear a puff of modulated air. “As you please, Ka’r’ika.” The words are husky through his helmet’s vocoder. He hooks a finger in his belt. “But not until you’re completely healed.”

“Works for me,” you grin, letting your lazy outer rim accent slip forward. “Pablo, scram, blurg-brain. But get my blade first.”

“Yes, ma’am,” Pablo sighs, throwing you a half-hearted salute.

“You did well today.”

The grin on your face grows, practically ear-to-ear. You peek out from under your hat’s brim, meeting the Mandalorian’s dark visor boring into your eyes.

“You’ll be as good as me one day.” The Mandalorian says it so low, so quiet that you could barely hear it over the breeze whipping through the homestead. He doesn’t wait for a reply, just turns to watch Pablo walk up, your vibroblade extended from his hand.

Pablo winks as you take the blade from him. “Later, sweetheart.” Chuckling, he strolls towards the hut, thankfully leaving you and Din alone once again.

“Come on now-” you turn back to Din- “I could never be a professional such as yourself.” You snort before continuing, “I mean, how long have you been learning all this Mandalorian stuff? Years, I imagine.”

Din drops his hand from his belt, slowly turning, pausing upon finding a few of the children running in the distance. “See the children?” 

You nod. 

He drops his visor away from your face. “I wasn’t much older than they are now-” his voice slows, warming with each word he speaks- “when I was taken in as a foundling.” 

You blink. “Oh.”

You might not be able read his face, but you recognize the raw emotion hidden in his tone all too well.

“I owe them my life,” he rasps, the words scratchy through the vocoder. “After my parents died, the Mandalorians took me in as one of their own.”

Silence.

Oh…

You- you hadn’t realized. Din mentioned his parents died during the Clone Wars, but not that the Mandalorians had rescued him, taken him in. The thought of a young Din, alone and scared, trapped in the middle of a war a child could never comprehend…

Kriff. 

You swallow the lump in your throat. It… hit too close to home.

“We really do have a lot in common,” you mumble, your eyes drifting along the gleaming sunlight crowning his Beskar helm.

He barely nods at your words.

Then the air turns… awkward, tense… neither of you knowing what exactly to say or do next. You mindlessly flip your vibroblade over in your hand, afraid any words would make the air even more uncomfortable. I mean, what do you say? Hey, Din! It’s great we can bond over our dead families?

“To be honest-” you nearly drop the blade at Din’s voice- “I… didn’t learn much about blade throwing from the Mandalorians.”

You raise an eyebrow, questioning the hesitation in his voice.

“When I was younger, a woman... a Twi’lek…” He shuffles his weight back and forth, looking everywhere, it seems, but at you.

Oh. 

Oh. 

You raise an eyebrow. 

“A woman?” You smile a bit too sweetly, nudging the Mandalorian with an elbow. “A lover, perhaps?”

He stares out at the distance, but you think you notice a slight shrug.

You force a laugh, more a bark, to be honest. 

“Was she pretty?” 

Silence.

You lean forward, tapping his armor with the end of your blade. 

“Did she… break your heart?”

He looks at you. 

“She tried to stab it.” 

You sheath the blade.

“Well,” you puff, “that’d certainly kill a relationship.” 

Yanking your blade back out, you fling it over and over and over in your hand, trying to ignore the burn searing up your throat. 

Whoever she is, blast her.

Kriffing blast her.

You gasp- a glove shot out, gripping your wrist before you can toss the blade again. 

“Are you trying to lose a finger?”

You rip your hand away, twisting around to hide the warmth exploding across your face. “Don’t coddle me, Din. I’ll never learn if I don’t face peril.”

He makes a noise you cannot decipher. 

“My dad taught me,” you blurt, eager to change topics. “With knives, a little bit, I-I mean.” You slowly turn back to the Mandalorian, finding him still, patiently waiting for you to continue.

You bite your lower lip, picking at the edge of your sleeve with the blade. “But I never took his lessons very seriously. I…I just wanted to make him laugh at my stupid antics, which, of course, he would.” You smile wryly. “But, still, I wish I’d taken a lot of things more seriously back then... I was too busy being a terror.”

Din makes a noise. A breathy “not surprised” slips out from beneath his helm.

You crinkle your nose, choosing to pretend you didn’t hear that. 

Spinning your blade a few times, you stop, sheathing it once again. “You know, he’d sneak me up into the ice caves sometimes. Stars, from as young as I can remember. Taught me to use vibroblades and, eventually, even how to swing a staff. I guess he had it in his head he could turn us into little snow warriors or something.” 

You throw Din a cheeky, lopsided grin. “But then me and my sister started beating each other with big sticks when we’d get angry at each other. Then we’d gang up on my middle brother- two sticks against one.” You burst into warm laughter at the memory. “Kriff, did we ever get a long lecture. Even longer than the time I taught my siblings to use the curse ‘kark’.” 

“Doesn’t sound like you’ve changed much.” The Mandalorian’s tone is layered with amusement, and a hint of… something else.

“No,” you snort. “That’s the problem.” You crouch down on the ground, pretending you’re aiming in the distance with a weapon. “But he loved showing me how to use his hunting rifle the best, even though I had horrible aim…. Uh, still do, actually.” You let your eyes droop closed, releasing a heavy breath into the air. “That thing was his baby.”

Damn it.

Damn it. 

You miss him.

The clank of Beskar forces you to open your eyes. The Mandalorian’s standing in front of you now, a hand stretched out.

“I thought he was a herder.”

Taking Din’s hand, you let him pull you back up. 

“Oh, he was,” you chirp. Bending down, you brush the dirt off the knees of your pants. “But weapons were his hobby, practically his religion, as my mother would tease.” With a small smile, you toss the Mandalorian a pointed look. “I think he would have liked you. Or, at least, your big-ass rifle.”

The Mandalorian just shrugs.

“Well,” you sigh, staring out at the target again while simultaneously removing your blade from its sheathe. “I think I’ve gotten the hang of this now.”

Pull back.

Aim.

Throw.

Slam.

“Not bad,” you sniff, staring at your blade protruding from the center bullseye. “You’re a good teacher, Din. We’ll have to find something else for you to teach me.” You slap him on the back. “I have a few ideas.” You turn to walk away, biting back your giggle.

You hear him make a noise, barely audible with the distance.

“Looks like you could teach me...”

-------

You’re gunna throw up.

You can’t believe you’re leaving this- this haven tomorrow… for kriffing Nar Shaddaa.

Holy Hutt. Nar Shaddaa-

The planet you actually just fled from with only the clothes on your back…

Oh, flutterplume at a festival feast! 

You’re insane. You’re actually insane.

You bite the inside of your cheek, fighting hard to restrain any sign of outward distress. After all, if there’s one lesson the galaxy beat into your brain, it’s that you never, ever show any sign of weakness. Got to keep the upper hand. Got to stay ten steps ahead… Or, in your case, at least appear to be… 

No, as far as anyone on Arvala is concerned, you’re excited for Keolith.

…Kriff Keolith.

You release a heavy sigh, continuing to bounce the child up and down on your knee, a small smile growing on your face with every little giggle that falls from his mouth.

“Make sure to take it easy, not overdo it,” Omera calls at you from the other side of the room.

“Mhm,” you mumble, barely paying her any mind.

“I mean it. Din, make sure she obeys, okay?”

He makes a noise. “I’d wager-” the Mandalorian lays his rifle down on the table- “it’d be easier to wrangle a varactyl.”

“Din Djarin-” you keep your eyes focused on the baby, wincing as he yanks on your hair- “did you just call me a varactyl?”

“… No.”

“I give up,” Omera groans, taking the chair across from where you sit. “I learned a long time ago; patients never listen-” she sighs- “until they’ve reinjured themselves.”

You lift your eyes to meet her own. “Wait, Omera, you were a doctor?”

She laughs at the question. “I suppose it’s safe to say so, now that the Empire is gone.” She rests her elbows on the table. “I was a nurse in the Rebellion, which is where I met my late husband, a patient of mine. When I found myself expecting Winta, we felt it was time to step away together, leave the battle behind.”

“Pin two ears on a gundark!” You lean back in your chair, laughing in amazement. “No way! I knew I liked you!”

The Mandalorian angles his head to the side, eyeing Omera up and down. 

“Don’t give me that look, Din,” she chuckles, giving his shoulder a light shove. “You never asked.”

“Maker-” you shift the baby to your opposite knee- “sounds like a story straight out of a holo. Meeting the man of your dreams in a rebellion, nursing him back to health.”

“I suppose,” Omera smiles, that certain gleam in her eyes you’ve seen before.

Uh oh.

“What about you?”

“Me? What about me?”

Omera smiles, not about to let you get away with your game. “You can’t tell me you’ve never been in love before.”

Oh Maker. 

Dangerous.

This conversation is dangerous. 

“Maybe,” you grumble, bouncing the baby on your knee again.

Oh kriff.

“Well, maybe one day you’ll find someone.” You can see Omera is trying her absolute hardest not to laugh, but she’s obviously failing. 

Stars.

Someone. 

Anyone. 

Help! 

As if answering your plea breathed into the force, Winta dashes over, pulling on her mother’s hand and whispering for assistance. Omera nods at you, that sly smile still etched on her face, and steps away from the table.

Oh, thank the Maker! Bless all the little children. 

With a weary sigh, you sneak a glance over at Din from the corner of your eye. He’s watching you… intently, helmet angled to the side in that curious Lothcat way of his. He begins to lean forward, as if he’s about to ask you a-

No. Kark that. 

Kark that shit!

You’ve had enough awkwardness for one day!

You burst up from your chair, cradling the baby against your chest. “We’re going to take a walk,” you speak to Din as much as to the baby. You shoot him a quick glance.

He’s still leaned forward, visor still trained on your face. He’s motionless, but relaxed, shoulders slightly slumped forward, the way they do when he’s tired. You read his silence as permission, and so you turn and walk out the door, trying to ignore the lingering sear of heat on your back, that lingering prickle of being watched.

Once you are through the door, you put as much distance between you and Kuill’s hut as quickly as possible, worried the Mandalorian might try and follow you outside. Grumbling under your breath, you stop at the fence line. You point up at the moon and stars, whispering for the baby to look up at them along with you.

“See those?” you whisper, grinning as the child’s large, soulful eyes fill with the reflections of hundreds of sparkling stars. “You’re just as special as those stars. Your force abilities are special, a gift.” You feel your heart swell with familiar, motherly warmth. “Special- just like you are to your father.” 

You tap your finger against his nose, and he bursts into a fit of giggles. “You little womp rat, quit laughing.” You shoot him an exaggerated frown. “It’s against the law to laugh.” 

He laughs even harder. And so you start laughing.

“The child’s grown fond of you.”

You startle at the voice, relaxing when you see it’s just Kuill, limping forward to stand beside you at the fence. “Yes-” you turn your eyes back to the baby’s face- “I suppose, like most children, they’re drawn to whomever shows them the most attention, ya little attention-seeking womp rat.” You caress his ear, smiling wistfully. “Mando doesn’t hug you enough, does he?”

“You’re very good- with all of the children,” Kuill rasps, leaning his weight forward on his cane.

“Yeah, well, I had four little siblings.” You throw Kuill a pointed look, and you continue on with your ramble. “They were such little monsters.” You grin. “And then there’s all the children from my village. Oh, and I often helped the other mothers with the children in the camp and-” 

You freeze. 

“…I- I mean-”

“Labor camp?”

Your eyes widen, your breath catching in your throat. “H-how did you-”

“Omera described the tattoos on your arm to me. I understood their meaning, immediately.”

“Oh, no,” you breathe, panic bubbling, swelling up in your chest. “I- I can explain-”

“I did not tell Omera- their meaning, and I suggested, for your privacy-” Kuill waves his hand aside- “she should not discuss them with anyone else.” 

No. No.

Blast it. 

Blast it!

Kuill reaches out, resting a hand on your arm. “Do not concern yourself. It is your story… to tell when and if you wish. I myself- have spent time in such places. You were a victim of the Empire… as we all were.”

Raw emotion… grief… guilt- bubbles up your throat, threatening to cut off air. Choking. Suffocating. 

“No, Kuill,” you mumble, barely audible. You place the baby down on the ground and use your free hand to tug up your sleeve.

Kuill brushes his fingers, gentle and light, across the marks, lifting his eyes to meet your face. “A life sentence.”

You rip the sleeve back down, resting both hands on your hips. With a sharp intake of air, you pull on a mask- the tough, outer rim girl persona: the same one that’s simultaneously kept you both safe and in trouble for far, far too many years. 

“And I did what the Imperials sent me in for.” Your voice is hard, tired. Hells, you are so blasted tired. 

You shake your head. “I didn’t deserve to have my sentence commuted by the New Republic, once they took the camp over-” you rub your eyes a little too hard, filling your vision with blurring, swirling lines- “b-but I guess they figured it’d be easier to release everyone than to try sorting between the political prisoners, innocent families, and… actual criminals.”

Plus, there was the issue of the children to consider…

“I’m-” your words catch in your throat, sticking against your tongue, afraid to emerge fully from your lips. You force your eyes closed. “I’m… not as a good a person as you think, Kuill.”

Kuill grunts, tapping his cane against the fence. “I’d think your recent sacrifices-” he motions the cane towards the child, toddling beside your feet- “would contradict that statement.” 

“Maybe,” you mumble, avoiding looking Kuill in the eyes, “or maybe I’m still the same.”

“I think not.” Kuill rests against his cane. “For when you’ve lived as many years as I have-”

“-you learn to recognize patterns in behavior.” You smile wryly.

“It seems the galaxy has smiled upon you… given you a second chance.” 

“Well,” you sigh, pressing your forehead against the top of the fencepost. “I’ve been doing a fine job of botching it up already, I’m afraid.” 

Stars…

“I’d say you have one path open to you at this moment,” Kuill grunts. “But what will you do with it?” 

“I appreciate it, Kuill, but… I can’t stay here.” You give him your classic, lop-sided smile. “Gotta keep exploring this big galaxy, ya know?” 

Kriff the galaxy.

Kuill chuckles under his breath. “That wasn’t the path I was referring to.” He reaches out, patting the top of hand. “I wish you luck… my child.”

You blink, watching as Kuill moves away. You wait until he’s just far enough in the distance before releasing a strained breath of air. 

Maker…

A light coo, a tug on your pants, shifts your attention away from yourself, away from your tumultuous thoughts. With a small smile, you reach down and pull the baby up against your neck, letting him nuzzle there as you glance back up at the stars.

Always running. 

You’re always running.

But one day- one day, you will choose your own damn path.

-------

“Wipe your eyes, Birdie-” you ruffle the top of his head- “or you’ll flood the planet and put Kuill out of business.” 

Birdie launches straight into your legs, knocking an oof from you.  

“But- but what if I n-never see you- you again?” He buries his face in the fabric of your pants.

Dropping down to your knees, you peal Birdie off of you, holding him back by his shoulders. “Of- of course I’ll see you again, hm?” Your heart throbs as you speak the lie into the air, wishing it would just carry away on the desert wind.

Karking hells.

Your heart explodes, pain seeping from every new little crack. You tug Birdie into you, wrapping him up in your embrace just as new set of arms snakes around your neck from behind. 

“We-we’ll miss you!” Winta says between sniffs.

“Come now,” you chirp, straining your voice to be as easy and care-free as you can muster in your compromised state. “I’ll have a thousand new stories to share when I come back, hm?” Your empty promises are apparently working, the heaviness easing off of their shoulders before your very eyes.

An approaching presence shifts your attention away from the children.

“All of us, the parents, felt like you should have this.” You blink, eyeing the satchel in Omera’s outstretched hand. “We owe you so much more, but-” Omera’s face tenses- “it’s a thank you to remember us by, to help you get started on Keolith.” She slides an arm around Winta’s shoulders, pulling her against her skirt.

You can’t do anything but… stare at the bag, stunned by the absolute generosity of the gesture. “I-I can’t take anything for-”

“Please.”

You don’t want it. 

It feels… wrong to take it.

But you won’t risk insulting them by outright refusing their kindness. 

“Go into town-” you give Winta and Birdie a sly wink- “and buy the children something fun. To remember me by. To make them laugh.” You wiggle your hat back and forth, pulling it tighter against your scalp. “That’s my payment.” 

A good decision, or so the little sunny grins on Birdie’s and Winta’s faces tell you. Omera hesitates- then smiles. An agreement. And so, you return the expression with equal warmth. 

“Kekthar, Rukia.” 

You gasp- eyes tearing over to discover… Kuill?

Sularian. 

A Sularian farewell.

You haven’t heard your native language spoken by another in, well… years.

“Kekthar, Sudbia,” you return, a small smile tickling at the corner of your mouth. As you share the smile with him, a silent understanding, a knowing, passes between your eyes:

You are always welcome in my home.

You will never deserve such kindness.

“Thank you, Kuill,” you whisper, bowing your head with respect.

As you continue sharing goodbyes, your heart grows heavy with each one spoken aloud. Part of you wants to just barrel into the Razor Crest, dive into the bed, and hide under a blanket just like the baby. 

Stars, goodbyes reek.

“Be careful, Din.” A faint conversation to your left shifts your focus away from your misery. “Come back as soon as you can.” You turn, eyes widening as you watch Omera wrap her arms around Din, enveloping him in a warm, heartfelt embrace. He returns the gesture, going as far as to… rub her back… affectionately.

A pang.

A punch in the chest.

Shavit. 

Just… shavit!

Spinning around on your heel, you stomp towards the Razor Crest, grumbling under your breath like some bitter old man.

Blasted seven Corellian hells- just-

Stoopa. Stoopa!

Kriff everything a-and-

You stop.

Kriff, wait, what is this? Corellian hells, what- 

Oh.

You blink, gritting your teeth.

You’re… jealous?

…

You’re jealous.

You groan, yanking your hat low across your eyes. You have got to stop bantering so much with the Mandalorian… flirting. You’re- you’re getting too attached. And there’s only one way this could possibly end:

Like a nuna at a Hutt roast… 

Uh, not so good, in other words.

You turn and frown, watching the pair speak in the distance.

Omera is… incredible. That Beskar idiot should marry her. Settle down. Have a family. He… deserves to have that. To be happy. 

He’s a good man.

“We really need to get going,” Cara grumbles, walking up beside you to stack a crate next to the ramp. “I’ve gone way, way over schedule, and Karga is breathing down my neck, even though he knows I lost my ship.” Cara pauses to sigh, leaning forward against the stack. “He says the town has gone to hell without me.”

Blinking away any lingering physical signs of your jealousy, you slip on an indifferent, bored expression. 

“Why so, Cara?” Your voice hardly veils the tension brewing in your head, but Cara, thankfully, does not seem to notice.

“I’ve been acting as a sort of-” she waves her hand in the air- “part-time Marshal, in a sense, on Navarro. Cleaning out a lot of the criminal rings scumming about,” Cara sighs, rubbing her face. “Still have a long way to go, but-” she lifts her eyes, giving you a sly smile- “I think I’m going to talk to Karga about dropping the Guild work completely, instead working full-time cleaning the streets. Maybe get a school up and running. And a doctor’s office; we need that too.”

“Cara,” you chuckle, stooping down to sit on a crate. “You surprise me. A dreamer lurks under all that brawn.”

“Maybe,” Cara chuckles. “But even so, my reason for visiting Arvala is dead, and I’m needed on Navarro.”

You blink. “Dead?”

Cara shoots out a hand, pointing at a lone Pablo approaching with his satchel. “Dead, according the Guild registry, that is.”

A bright grin bursts across Pablo’s face. He throws his hands out at the side, spinning around until he is facing the approaching Mandalorian. “Hey, shame you and Cara lost such a priceless bounty, right, Mando?”

The Mandalorian saunters up to Pablo, pausing to stare him directly in the eye.

“I was paid for killing you.” 

The Mandalorian knocks into Pablo’s shoulder as he moves past.

One glance at the panicked expression on Pablo’s face, and you burst into loud, obnoxious laughter. He twists, shooting you a murderous look, which you happily return with only sweetness and a smile. 

At least, on the bright side, you now have someone new to torment besides Din.

After all, it’s the little things that matter.

-------

“Dad!” You climb up on top of the huge fallen log, waving wildly to your dad in the distance. “Look! Watch!”

He pauses at your words, giving you a cheeky, lop-sided grin. “Okay, Starlight-” he leans forward against his rifle- “I’m watching.”

“You’re watching?”

“Yes.”

“Okay, don’t look away!”

“I won’t.”

“Still watching?”

“Starlight-”

With a grunt, you spin backwards off the log, landing a perfect backflip… 

…straight into a hidden snowdrift.

“DAD!” you shriek, buried up to your hips in snow. You continue to wriggle, desperate to free yourself… to only sink down further with every shift. “Dad!” you yelp. You hear a rustling noise, and you jerk your head up.

Your dad- ever the helpful, supportive parent- is leaning over the top of the log… 

laughing at you.

“Starlight,” he chuckles, “very impressive. Ten out of ten for style.” He crosses his arms across the log, angling his head to the side as he stares down at you. “But you made that fatal flaw we’ve talked about before.”

“Dad!” you growl, in no mood to be lectured nor teased. “Get me out of here! I don’t care!”

“What’s that fatal flaw?” 

“I don’t care!”

“Starlight?”

You shoot him a pathetic frown. “I didn’t observe my surroundings first.” You twist your head away, pouting your lips. “I acted before thinking.”

Gloved hands wrap around your arms, lifting you up out of the snow drift.

“Good girl-” your father pulls you up against his side, rubbing your back. “Remember-”

“-think first, show off second.” You release a puff of air, watching as it crystalizes in front of you. 

Your dad laughs and slips you that characteristic sly wink.

“My little snow warrior-” he grabs your hand, leading you back towards the mountain path- “such a little show-off………”

-------

“I’m not a show-off!”

Pablo flashes you a grin. “Come now, princess-”

“Okay, fine.” You crinkle your nose, lifting your hand up, two fingers spaced closely together. “Just a little bit. But still, it’s true.” 

“Oh sure.”

“Yes! I could out-drink both of you, and ten Corellians on top of that.” You shove against Pablo’s shoulder as you move past, sitting down beside him.

“Speaking as a Corellian man, that’s big talk, sweetheart,” Pablo slides his glass of whiskey back and forth on the table between his hands. “But are you willing to try and prove it?”

“Pour me some of that-” you tap your fingers on the table, smirking at Cara- “before you and Pablo wipe out our supply.”

Cara pours and slides you a glass, a questioning expression on her face. You take a deep breath, lean back, and down the whiskey in one shot.

“Oh-” cough- cough- “wow, that’s-” cough- “that’s defi-” cough- “de-definitely Corellian.”

Cara smacks her hand down on the table, clutching her stomach as she doubles over with laughter. “Oh, dank farrick, your face!”

Pablo snorts. “Still think you can out-drink ten Corellians?” Resting his elbows against the table, he slides the bottle towards you. 

Feeling your face flush with warmth from the shot of whiskey, you can only grin and tilt your head. “I’m certain of it.”

Pablo leans back, chuckling as he crosses his arms behind his head. “Fine. The minute we land on Tatooine-” he points at you, raising an eyebrow- “I’m dragging you into the first cantina we find.”

Your smile plummets.

“Tatooine?” You fling around in your chair, gawking over at the Mandalorian on the other side of the hull. “Tatooine?”

He stops cleaning his blaster, lifting his helmet to meet your eyes.

“He didn’t tell you?”

You spin back around, now gawking at Cara. “Obviously no. I thought we were heading to Navarro!”

“No.” Cara shrugs, leaning back against her chair. She lifts a brow, a hint of amusement in her eyes. “Tatooine is closer than Navarro. We’ll jump transports from there, letting you and Din continue on to Nar Shaddaa.”

“Hell,” you breathe, flopping back against your chair. 

Tatooine?

“I’ll be loath to part from you all.” Pablo lifts his glass in the air. “I’ve grown so attached to everyone…. Well-” he raises a brow at you- “minus one.”

“You know, Pablo-” you jump forward, slapping both hands down on the table- “you’re being awfully rude for a man who’d be cargo right now if it wasn’t for me.”

“Oh, don’t start on-”

“I will!”

“You know good and well-”

“You’re so rude!”

“I am not!”

“Carbonite man.”

“Don’t call me-”

“HEY!” You both rip your heads towards Cara. 

Silence.

She slowly leans forward. “Are you two done?”

“Absolutely,” you sniff. Leaning into the palm of your hand, you release a long, heavy sigh, choosing to just ignore Pablo. 

“Stars,” you whisper, staring up at the ceiling, beginning to reminisce. “I haven’t been to Tatooine in, well… years. Pretty sure I still owe some people money,” you grumble. “Dank farrick, I got into so much trouble there.”

“As an exceptional speederbike racer.”

Your eyes rip up, trailing the Mandalorian as he sits beside Cara. “That is, if I remember correctly.” His tone light, almost… airy compared to his typical grumpy snaps. 

Oh. He’s teasing you. 

You raise an eyebrow.

You know you should stop. Stop teasing him back. 

But…

“I’m better than you, Din Djarin-” you lean across the table, smiling slyly as you stare him down- “that’s for certain. I’m the damn best, too.”

He shifts back, folding his hands against his stomach, just…. gazing at you.

“Damn best, huh?” Cara takes a shot of her drink. “Then you should have joined the Nar Shaddaa professional circuits. High risk, high reward.” She slides the bottle of whiskey towards you. “I imagine the violence, death, and insanity would have been right up your alley.”

“Well…” With a small sigh, you drop your eyes, beginning to play with the edge of your shirt. “Actually I- I would have.” You lower you chin. “But… uh, had someone I needed to stay alive for,” you discreetly add under your breath.

Cara grins and lifts her glass at you. Din, on the other hand, stretches his neck, dark visor pinned to your face. You snap away, staring over at the slightly tipsy Pablo instead.

“Boyfriend?” Pablo mumbles, taking the whiskey bottle for himself.

You only smile.

“Well, either way-” he sloshes his glass high- “to Tatooine!”

“Hell,” you grumble.

You lift your own glass.

To Tatooine.

…

Dank farrick.

-------

The darkness moves in. Closer. Suffocating. Gnawing away at the light.

…

“I know why you chose this.

… 

You love power. 

…

Crave it.”

…

You bury your face in your hands. “Shut up! You know nothing!”

…

“You can’t hide forever.

…

I know what you’ve done.

…

And you’ve seen what I’m capable of………”

…

Something presses into your neck.

…

Shit.

Your eyes blast open. 

Can’t-

Can’t breathe!

Wriggling and squirming, you claw at your neck, kicking the covers off Din’s bed as you twist and turn and push and fight.

“Urf! C-Cara,” you hiss, slapping at her arm slumped across your neck. “Move!” 

Cara snores louder, oblivious to the fact that she’s, you know, smothering you. She mumbles something in her sleep, pulling her arm back to flop over to her side of the mattress. Launching up from the bed, you gasp, sucking in deep gulps of air. A few more seconds, a few more gulps, and you glare over at Cara.

You can put up with snoring.

But you draw the kriffing line at actively trying to suffocate you in your sleep.

“Stars…” you hiss, pressing a palm to your forehead before pulling it back, blinking at the sweat dripping from your hand. 

You’re… drenched. Trembling, shivering- your soaked nightshirt and pants stinging like ice in the cool air. Sliding down to the foot of the bed, you wrap your arms across your chest, squeezing tightly in a vain attempt to slow the trembling tearing at your body. 

You groan, your head sloshing with exhaustion and fatigue and tension, but then… the threat from your nightmare slips past it all, the memory growling in your head-

You can’t hide forever…

Your throat catches.

Oh hell.

Oh hell.

You slap both hands over your eyes.

You’re dead…

-------

Some people turn to religion. 

Some people talk to a therapist. 

But your newfound cure for anxiety?

Apparently, the smell of Andorian Mountain Roses. 

Specifically, the faint scent of Andorian Mountain Roses lingering on the Mandalorian’s flannels.

After Cara’s murder attempt, you waited several minutes on the edge of the bed for the trembles, the shakes, to dissipate… but no such luck. Desperate, wet, and cold, you had peeled off your soaked nightshirt, swapping it out for a flannel shirt stolen from a heap on the floor.

You bury your nose into the sleeve of the thick shirt, inhaling deeply as you pad gently across the floor of the Razor Crest’s hull. 

It smells like Din.

…

You’re safe with him.

…

He promised.

…

“Ka’r’ika?”

You freeze, dropping your arm at the faint voice, low, barely a rasp.

You tiptoe closer to the base of the ladder leading up to the cockpit. “Din?” you whisper, staring up into the dark void above.

“Come up.”

Biting your lip, you tentatively rest your foot on the bottom rung. One hesitant breath, and you scamper straight up.

“Din?” you question again, poking your head up into the space above. You blink, your eyes shifting towards the cockpit windows, smiling as you admire that familiar sparkling, dancing hyperspace light bouncing off everything within the cockpit.

Your eyes follow the streaking lines… forward… straight to the Mandalorian. He’s turned around in his chair, studying your every move.

“Hi.” You smile, a bit… shyly. 

Hm. That’s new.

Resting back against in the pilot’s seat, he folds his hands- gloveless hands- across his stomach.

Fiddling with the edge of your shirt, you gently pad into the cockpit. A sharp glance to the left- you smile. The pram is sealed again, cocooning the child as he sleeps. 

You glance back to Din, and as you step closer, you notice his right pauldron is missing. “Hey-” you slip into the right co-pilot’s chair- “I hope I didn’t wake yo-”

“I was already awake.”

“Oh.” You blink, chewing on your lower lip. He seems so… close. Stars, you didn’t remember the cockpit being quite this… uh, tight. 

“Um, I couldn’t sleep,” you whisper, not wishing to risk waking the baby. After all, from the looks of Din and his missing pauldron, it must have taken quite some time to get the baby to sleep.

You slide forward, resting on the edge of the co-pilot’s seat. “Between Pablo’s and Cara’s snoring-” you grimace- “it’s like trying to sleep in a kriffing zoo down there. They’re both drunk off their socks.”

Din makes a noise. “Really?”

“Yeah, Cara tried to smother-”

“No-” the Mandalorian dips his helmet at you- “…is that really why you can’t sleep?”

“Am I really that easy to read?” you huff, raising a brow.

Silence.

“…You’re afraid.” 

You blink, falling quiet. Of course you’re afraid... 

You’re terrified.

You hear him shift in his chair, but you do not look up. 

“…Why did you leave Tatooine?”

How can his voice sound so gentle, so soft, even when modulated? Stars, you can only imagine it without the distortion… You glance down at the floor, spinning the chair back and forth, unwilling to meet his gaze.

“Grandpa yanked us off overnight,” you blurt, a bit surprised by how the words hurt as they emerge. You continue spinning in the chair, this time in full circles. “…Because I was a damn idiot.” You stop rotating, and face Din’s seat. Your eyes trail down his helmet… down his arms… to those hands.

Large. 

Tan.

Scarred. 

And warm- so warm… 

Karking hells, you’ve spent too much damn time thinking about how warm they felt that day… How he brushed your chin- confident, no hesitation. And so blasted gentle, like you were made of glass.

…Oh, seven Corellian hells…

You’re done for. 

Thank the Maker your warming face is hidden in the dim light. 

A shift of movement draws your focus back over to the pilot’s chair. Din leans forward, resting his elbows against his thighs- a silent invitation.

Groaning, you pull a foot up into your chair, tucking it under your chin. “After… after it was just me and Grandpa-” you wave your hand in the air- “I, uh, had a talent for getting into… situations.”

You turn your eyes away, fearing you might not have the strength to continue if you shared even just one glance with him. “Grandpa- he kept having to pull us off planets. I’d always get mixed up with the wrong crowds, gangs, whatever. We could never stay one place too long.” With every word you speak, your throat tightens- constricts.

Your… your Grandpa deserved so much better than you.

“I just… kept acting out more and more the older I got.”

Stupid.

So stupid.

Flopping your head back against the chair, you stare up at the ceiling. “By Tatooine, I was pretty much… unmanageable. He tried- he really did- but, in a way, I think- I think he had given up on me. He stopped asking so many questions when I’d be gone for hours, sometimes days, at a time. He was… he was so used to me running off.”

Biting the inside of your cheek to keep the burning in your eyes at bay, you continue. “Remember the boy I told you about? The speederbike racer?” You venture a glance at Din, finding him in the same position, leaned forward against his thighs. He gives you a light nod.

“He…he was part of an illegal racing club. He got me in- I was good, great at it.”

“Damn best?”

You smile at Din.

“Hell yeah,” you chuckle, pulling your second leg up into the chair, tucking it under your chin. “I pulled a lot of ill-advised stunts. Got me noticed by the right, or rather wrong, people. A Hutt sponsored me as his challenger in the biggest speeder race Tatooine had seen in years.” 

You groan, burying your face in the palms of your hands. “And, under no uncertain terms, I was to win… or else. And, of course, my stupid self thought-” you throw both hands in the air- “‘Great! I’ll win, no big deal! Win lots of money and fame! What an honor to be a Hutt favorite!’”

You shoot Din a knowing look.

He sits back, tapping his fingers against his thigh. 

“What… happened?” His words are hesitant.

 “I karking won, of course.” You cross your arms. “What else did you expect?” 

He just stares at you- tilts his head to the side.

You make a noise. “Grandpa flipped when he found out. He knew how’d things would inevitably end- entering those kinds of races, working with the Hutts.” You let out a dry laugh. “He yanked me off that planet, kicking and screaming. I thought he was ruining my future. Turns out, I did a fine job of that on my own.”

Stars… you can’t think about Grandpa right now- don’t cry, don’t cry, don’t cry, don’t cry-

“A-anyway-” you force a laugh- “um, enough about me.” You lift your chin, tossing Din a forced grin. “Tell me something about yourself.”

“Such as?” 

A slight smirk grows on your face. Actually… there is something you’ve been dying to ask him, but… it just never felt appropriate- you felt too intimidated to question. But here, draped in the dancing blue hue of hyperspace, he somehow feels less like a Mandalorian and more like… just a man.

“Can you ever take that helmet off?” you blurt. You instantly cringe, regretting the words the second they leave your lips. “You don’t ha-”

“I can.”

You blink.

He spins around away from you, facing the console. “For my children.” He flicks a switch. “And a… a wife.”

“…Oh.”

You tilt your head to the side. Huh.

“Stars, wait-” you shoot up in your chair- “does that mean you’ve never kissed anyone before?”

He freezes. 

One second-

Two seconds-

Three seconds-

“Sorry!” You press a hand against your cheek. “Sometimes I- I blurt before thinking.” You flop backwards, sighing heavily. “Anyway, you’re not missing a thing. Kissing is disgusting. Think about it- swapping spit? Touching tongues? With another person?” You crinkle your nose. “It’s nasty.”

You lean forward, eyes widening. “Oh, my Maker! One time, I was dared to kiss a Gungan, and I think I’ve had lingering trauma ever…. uh, since…” You press your face into your knees, your face warming. “Ah, um, you know what? Never mind.”

Kark- maybe try thinking before speaking just once- JUST once?!

The Mandalorian resumes fiddling with the switches on the console, as if you hadn’t been speaking at all- thank the force. 

After all, the Gungan story was rather hard to explain.

 A few minutes pass, no word spoken aloud, and the cockpit falls into a stillness.

A calm stillness.

Just… tranquility.

You suck in a deep breath of air, sinking deeper into your chair. Even with your awkward blunders, you feel more comfortable, safer in this moment than you have in far, far too long. 

Eyelids drooping, time begins to swirl around you, mixing, blending with the hyperspace light. Lost in the realm between consciousness and sleep, you are barely aware of a lingering presence that looms beside you.

You drift away from sleep, sailing closer to consciousness. Parting your eyes just enough to see, a small smile slips onto your lips. He- Din- hovers over you. He reaches up, removing the cape from his back, and drapes it over you as your eyes slip back closed. You feel the weight of it pause halfway. 

A slight tug- a pull- on the edge of your shirt.

Your eyes part, your groggy smile returning.

“Keep it,” Din rasps, barely a whisper. He continues rubbing the fabric of his shirt you wear between two fingers. “Looks… nice.” 

The weight of the cape moves up, fully cocooning you, safe, warm, much like his son that sleeps beside you.

“Sweet dreams… Meshla.”

“Mmf,” you mumble. “What’s… th-at… mean?” 

Skin traces the outline of your ear.

“Nuisance.”

“Kriff… you.”

“Go to sleep.”

You smile, letting your mind sail back towards the shoreline of sleep.

-------

“HEY! Get away from there! You know he doesn’t like droids!”

You lumber down the ramp after the Mandalorian, squinting against the unforgiving rays of the twin Tatooine suns. You lift a hand to your eyes, blinking as a woman- head full of tight curls- marches towards the Razor Crest. 

“May as well let them have at it,” the Mandalorian grumbles. “The Crest needs a good once over.”

“Oh! So, he likes droids now. Well, you heard him.” The woman waves at a crew of droids. “Give it a once over!... I guess a lot has changed since you were last in Mos Eisley.”

The Mandalorian pauses in front of the stranger with Cara, Pablo, and yourself gathering around him. 

“Well, looky here! You’ve made new friends!” The woman narrows her eyes, leaning in towards Pablo. “Hopefully you three won’t try and kill me like the last one this Mandalorian dragged in here.” 

She leans into you this time. “If you ask me, I think your Mandalorian here needs a good group of friends,” she whispers under her breath. “The man doesn’t live well.”

You slap a hand over your nose, pressing to muffle your burst of laughter.

But then Pablo laughs, and you just can’t hold it in.

The Mandalorian sighs, not sparing the two of you a glance.

“I’m Peli.” The woman nods again, oblivious to the effect her words have had on you and Pablo. “I am a very- OH ho!” Peli launches forward, swooping the baby out from the Mandalorian’s satchel. “I’ve missed this little one! Let me guess, I’m needed for babysitting services? Don’t ask! Yes!” She rocks the baby against her hip, and the baby, delighted by the attention, grins and giggles- clearly very pleased to see Peli again.

“If it isn’t too much trouble.” The Mandalorian reaches out, stroking the child’s ear. “The girl and I need to resupply. I’d rather leave the child here.”

“I have a name, Mando,” you grumble under your breath, shooting him a glare.

He keeps his head straight, focused on Peli, ignoring your protest.

“Of course!” Peli shouts, walking several feet away as she rambles away to the child.

“Mando-” Cara touches his arm- “I’ll catch up with you later today before we leave Tatooine. I’m taking Pablo with me.” She eyes Pablo, a suspicious gleam in her eyes. “He claims he has a contact, can get Navarro hooked up with a good supplier.”

“Of course!” Pablo flings his hands out, grinning ear to ear. “Old Bolbo is a close friend! He completely forgave me for that incident with his sister in Anchorhead!”

Cara stares at him.

“Oh, hell.” She adjusts the rifle on her back. “Let’s get this over with.”

You chuckle to yourself, shaking your head as Cara and Pablo walk off towards the exit.

“Peli-” the Mandalorian walks after her- still dashing back and forth, rambling to the child. “I want you to keep the doors secured until I get back.” He hooks a finger in his belt, his helmet following Peli back and forth, back and forth. “Don’t open them for anyone you don’t know.”

“Oh!” Her eyes brighten. “I actually have a defender droid now! 4PO!” she shrieks, waving her hand in the air. “Come on! Come on! Wa-iting.”

Your eyes widen, watching with a mixture between disbelief and dismay, as a silver droid stumbles forward- red light radiating from its joints. “Um,” you bite your lip, fighting against the laughter swelling up your throat. “Isn’t… isn’t that a protocol droid?” 

“It’s been refitted!” Peli slaps the droid with her free hand. “4PO! DEFENDER MODE!”

The droid wobbles back and forth- bolts and screws raining down, bouncing across the floor. You blink. “Is- is th-”

The droid’s head snaps to you.

“<death is but a relief from our meager existence>”

…

…

…

The Mandalorian looks at Peli.

“Keep the doors secured.”

His hand wraps around your upper arm, pushing you towards the exit.

“Blast it, 4PO!” Peli’s shouts from behind, pulling a giggle from your lips. “I can’t believe you’ve embarrassed me like this! What do you have to say for yourself?”

“<i am trapped in this shell. i cannot die.>”

“4PO!”

-------

Ah, Mos Eisley Spaceport:

Dangerous? Yes.

Scummy? Yes.

Entertaining? Also yes.

You grin beneath the scarf wrapped around your face, gawking at all the activity and interesting faces that swarm past you on the street. You are so enraptured with the sights and sounds that the Mandalorian is occasionally forced to grab your arm and pull you against his side.

“Stay close,” he’d grumble… before you’d inevitably leave his side again five minutes later.

“Mando!” you call from the top of a store’s steps, waving across the street for him.

He sweeps forward, stopping beneath you just at the bottom step. 

“Stop disappearing.” 

His voice is hard, all bounty hunter.

“What?” You grin, skipping down the steps to stand beside him. “The bounty hunter can’t hunt me down? Keeps losing me?”

He releases a heavy, long-suffering sigh and angles his head down at you.

“Move.”

Giggling under the scarf, you allow the Mandalorian to lead you inside the store. You don’t wait for instructions nor directions- you know what you want, and you’re going to get what you want. The Mandalorian finds you a minute later. He doesn’t say anything, just stands on the opposite side of the rack as you claw through the hangers.

You stop long enough to give him a look. “The baby needs clothes, Mando.” You continue clawing through the limited selection. “That sack he wears is ridiculous. Now go, leave me alone. I don’t need you hovering.”

He throws his head to the side, a small sigh slipping out- but he obeys your command.

You sneak a glance from the corner of your eye, a lop-sided smile stretching across your face. He’s off to the side, trying to appear occupied, but you know what he’s doing:

He’s not letting you get further than ten feet away.

The hovering- the lingering, keeping an eye on you…

It’s… kind of cute.

…But irritating.

Still, considering the incident on Arvala, he has good reason to hover… You’d do well to remember that yourself.

After making a few selections, you spin around, expecting to find the Mandalorian where you left him. But he’s gone.

“Hm.” You twist your head around but spying him nowhere in the store.

Fine.

Guess he took your command seriously this time. You make your purchases and step outside the door. Just as you go to sit on the top step, the clank-clank of Beskar jolts you around.

“Mando!” You throw both hands on your hips in mock frustration. “You left me.”

He rests a hand against his holster, and chuckles. “Make up your mind, Ka’r’ika.”

You drop the frown, trading it in for a blooming grin. “Fine. What was so important that you left me behind?”

His helmet angles down, his hands fiddling with something hanging off from his belt.

“I was next door… I… saw this.” He reaches out, presenting you what’s in his hand. “Thought it… suited you. Better than the one I have. Mine’s… too long. This suits your size. Suits your height… better.”

You tentatively take the plain metal bar, no longer than the length of your hand. “Ah, thank you, Mando! I… love it.” You blink. “Um, what is it?”

He points to a switch on the side.

“Is tha- OH!”

A blade slices out from the end. “Seven Corellian hells!” you laugh. “This is- wait, what’s this do- OH KRIFF!”

You nearly throw it from your hands. One flick of a switch, and the bar the length of your hand grows to be three, maybe even four feet in length

“Din!” you hiss, tapping the staff down onto the ground. “You bought me a weapon to kill people with!” You flick the switch again, grinning as it collapses back to the size of your hand. “I’m going to cry!”

The Mandalorian grunts, angling his head to the side. “Weapon to defend.”

You flick the switch again, grinning as the blade slides away, hidden within. “Well.” Hooking the bar onto you belt, you look up at him with an impish smirk. “Now you’re trapped. You have no choice but to train me with a staff.”

“That’s the idea.”

You can’t help but grin like an idiot.

-------

“Where are you going?”

“Refresher,” you shout, continuing to march away from the Mandalorian and straight towards a cantina. You step inside, grimacing at the smack of stench that punches you in the face.

Uhg, what’s with cantinas and unwashed masses?

Shaking your head, you let your eyes sweep around the dim, dingy, and nearly empty cantina. Ah, there’s th-

“OH!” you squeak, pulling away from the hand grasping your shoulder. “Din!” you hiss, pushing against his arm.

“I said stay close.”

“You can’t use your bounty hunter voice on me and expect it to work.” You march away. “Unless you’re coming with me into the refresher, wait for me out here.”

-------

You are only gone a few minutes, but you are frustrated to find yet again- yes, again- the Mandalorian has disappeared within that time frame. With a heavy sigh, you sit down at the bar, ignoring the other patrons beginning to trickle in as Tatooine’s work hours for the day come to a close.

“Hello there, miss.” A young man sits next to you at the bar. He throws you a smile. 

Ah, he’s cute.

“Never seen you here before. Mind if I buy you a drink?”

A sly smirk tickles at the corner of your mouth. 

An idea.

“I never refuse a free drink.” 

You flick your eyes back towards the cantina entrance. “Come on, Din. I want to have fun with you.”

“Say,” the man leans towards you as the bartender slides you your drink. “How about we go somewhere, hm?”

You crinkle your nose, lifting the drink to your lips. “No thanks.”

“But I bought you a drink-”

“I don’t remember leaving with you being part of that deal.”

The man’s facade drops, his expression twisting into irritation. “Girl, you hav-”

“Unless you want to talk to my husband into letting me go with you, I just can’t.”

You bite away the grin that begs to explode across your face as you watch the man’s eyes widen twice their typical size.

“Husband?”

You twist your head, and stare across the bar-

-directly at a looming, hulking, intimidating, Beskar-donning Mandalorian.

The man leaps from you, his eyes not leaving the Mandalorian- not for one second. “Uh, um, look I- I didn’t mean anything.” He throws his hands up.

“Honey-” you take another sip of your drink- “could you watch the kids so I can go with this gentleman?”

The Mandalorian’s visor is glued to the man- searing him to the ground. 

A bird stalking prey.

“You know the kids don’t listen to me, Cyare.” His voice is quiet, dangerously contained. “So, you chose.” 

He stalks around the bar, slowly, deliberately… 

“Do I string him up for the rancors… or do I shoot him now?”

“I like rancors,” you chirp, twisting to look up at Din. “They’re kinda cute.” You turn back-

“Hey, he’s gone!” You groan as the Mandalorian wraps his hand firmly around your upper arm, pulling you off the barstool. 

“Let’s go.”

“Just when I was making friends.”

“I’m getting you back before you get yourself shot.”

“But I have my stick now!”

“Staff, Ka’r’ika.”

“Yes, staff- a big stick.”

A beaming grin bursts across your face at the pained, long-suffering sigh that erupts from his helmet’s vocoder. He continues to lead you in silence through the streets of Mos Eisley, only coming to a stop after pulling you aside in an alley.

“I can handle myself, Din,” you teasingly smile, pressing your back up against the wall.

He hovers over you, tilting his head forward. “You’ve yet to convince me of that.”

You bite your lower lip, mischief tickling in the back of your mind.

“I’m fast, remember?”

He leans forward, closer into your face. “So you always say.”

You let your smile slowly drop… drop… drop…

His hands shoot out-

You lean back-

SMACK.

You laugh as Din stares down- stunned- at the staff held sideways in your hands, blocking him from grabbing you. You push the bar against him, ducking sideways to escape his grasp.

“Nice try!” you growl through your gritted teeth as you bolt down the alley. “Race you to the hanger!”

Burning every drop of adrenaline flooding your bloodstream, you blast through the twisting turns of the alleyway labyrinth, hissing each time you think you see a gleam of Beskar from the corner of your eyes.

Blast!

You slide sideways across the dirt, narrowly avoiding bursting through a vendor’s cart, cackling as the vendor hurdles curses at your fleeing back. Taking a sharp turn, you speed into another alley, sliding across the loose dirt as you stumble to a halt- unable to continue another foot without passing out.

“K-kriff!” you pant, twisting your head back and forth, spying for even just a hint of shining Beskar in the empty alley. 

“I’m out- out of… shape! I- I can’t- AHRG!”

You fall forward, hard, against the ground to escape what dropped from the roof behind you.

“DIN!” you shriek, baring your teeth at him.

“Keep up.” 

He spins around.

Kark that! 

You launch forward, grabbing onto his cloak, and- yank! 

“Bitch, get back here!”

  You stumble into his back and wrap both arms tightly around his neck- bursting into a fit of giggles as Din lifts you up and keeps moving forward. He reaches his hands back, pulling your legs up around his waist- essentially carrying you piggyback.

“Din!” you yelp between barks of laughter. “I-I’m slipping! OH!”

You plummet to the ground. You roll over on your back, rubbing the tears from your eyes. “S-stars! Oh.. oh kriff! I- I’m hu-hurting! From… la-laughing! Oh, ouch! O-Ouch!”

Your eyes finally clear of the blurring tears-

There he is- kneeling beside you- looking down- laughing at you.

“Din!” you giggle, slapping a hand up against his chest. “Jerk! You dropped me on purpose!”

His laughter gently fades away- and he stands, reaching a gloved hand out for you.

“Come, Ka’r’ika,” he rasps, his tone… deeper than usual. “Let’s get back to the hanger.”

You grin, looping your arm around his. 

“Anywhere you say, Din.”

Truly, anywhere.

At this point, the man could lead you straight into a rancor’s din, and you’d jump in if he did too.

-------

Something’s wrong.

You know how he normally walks- confident and striding.

…Something’s wrong.

“Din?” You tilt your head to the side, raising a brow. “What did Peli tell you? What’s…?”

He stops- pausing just before the cockpit ladder- and angles his head at your voice. 

“There’s a Mandalorian to the north. Mos Pelgo.” He turns around and starts slowly walking towards you.

“…Oh.”

You lower yourself into a chair, not exactly sure where this is going…

“That’s… good, I guess?” Crossing your arms together, you chuckle. “Sometimes it’s hard to imagine there’s more than one of you.”

He rests both hands against his hips, turning to face the hull wall.

“I’m going out there.” He throws you a quick look. “After Cara returns to keep you safe. I’m… taking the child with me.”

“Ah, sure?” 

He’s leaving something out… 

“But… why, exactly?”

“I’m hoping a Mandalorian can… lead me to someone. The child-” Din’s voice quiets. “He’s… special.”

Oh.

“Is this about his force abilities?”

“Force?” Din rips his head around. “You mean… Jedi?”

With a small smile on your face, you pull both legs up into the chair with you. “Jedi use the force. Think of it as-” you wave your hand in the air- “like an energy thing. The force binds all things, connects all things… real mystical stuff.”

Din does not move. Just… stares at you.

“What do you know of the Jedi?” His voice is quick.

You grunt, shifting your eyes to the floor. “I know they’re all dead now, for the most part. Hunted like animals by the Empire." You force a dry laugh. “They- they didn’t stop at the adults. No-” you shake your head- “slaughtered the children too. Kriffing creeps. Hunted down each last survivor- any force user- one by one.”

Silence.

“How… do you know this?”

“My Mom.” You release a heavy sigh. “She wanted more- more excitement than what life on Sularia offered. She was intelligent, and her intelligence earned her a job as a civilian contractor with the Republic during the Clone Wars.” You smirk at Din. “Grandpa was not happy with her.”

You tilt the chair backwards, staring up at the ceiling as you speak. “She worked among the Jedi. Friends with many of them.”

You hear Mom’s weeping in your ear… her eyes radiating such… pain and loss. You dig your fingers into your palm, willing the memories away, your eyes sliding closed-

“He must be trained.”

Your eyes blast open, flying straight to Din. “What?” 

“After Arvala- what he did to the woman on Arvala-” Din lowers his head, avoiding your glare- “I knew he was strong, but… 

“Din,” you grit your teeth- “you must forget he’s special.” You throw your hand out. “Forget Arvala ever happened.”

“A Jedi can train him.” Din is speaking more to himself than to you. “After I leave Nar Shaddaa, I will return to my quest. Find the kid a Jedi.”

Silence.

“What?” You launch up out of your chair.

“If what you say is true-” Din’s voice is level and even, barely audible even in the silence- “I can’t protect him. He… needs to be trained.”

“Trained?” You voice strains in your throat, tightening with every word. “Didn’t you hear me? It’s too dangerous to let him follow that path!”

The Mandalorian faces you. “Danger is all he’s ever known.” He turns and begins to stalk away. “I was wrong to not follow my quest. I… must follow my creed.” He stops. “This is the way.”

“The way?” You race over to his side, staring up into that emotionless visor. “To give up a child that loves you? That you’ve called son?” You grab his arm. “Refuse him a happy, normal childhood?”

“His life with me is not normal. It’s no life for a child.”

“And- and life as a Jedi isn’t either!” your voice raises. “They aren’t allowed to express love- hold attachments!” You clench your fists, willing your breathing- and voice- to level back out. “That is no way for a child to be raised.”

“That is their way.” The Mandalorian rests a hand on a ladder rung. “And… this is mine.”

Blood explodes in your ear.

“How can you be so cold!”

The Mandalorian’s head shoots to you. 

“If you cared about him, you’d- you’d keep him- fight for him- love him every day- thank the Maker he’s there every morning when you wake up!” Furious tears sting the corners of your eyes, but you wipe them away with your sleeve- refusing to let them fall. “Grateful you have more than just your memories and dreams of him to hold!”

“I do care about him.” The Mandalorian’s voice cuts dangerously calm. “But unlike you, I can’t be selfish.” He steps forward, forcing you to take a step back. “Doing whatever I want; whatever I please.” He stops, his voice quieting. “I… I cannot give him what he needs. He… needs more than me.”

Selfish? Selfish?

The decaying stench of Nar Shaddaa wafts down the streets as you walk lower, deeper into the underbelly of the rotting city center. The tears have now dried on your cheeks, but you know the streaked mascara staining your cheeks will give their existence away. You will have to duck into the sink first before heading into your dilapidated apartment- you can’t let her see any evidence of your suffering.

It’s all for her, and that’s all that matters.

“You-” you swallow the lump cutting off your air, pressing your hands behind your back to hide their trembling- “You know nothing of my life! And frankly, you know nothing of me, Mandalorian.”

“I know enough.” His tone matches your still, quiet coldness. “You’d put your feelings and attachment over what’s best for him.”

“How can you say that while I stand here-” you jab at your side- “carrying scars I took for that child!” 

He takes a step forward, his hands raised almost as if in regret, but you cut him off.

“You sound just like a Jedi!” you shout. “Maybe you would be the perfect teacher for him!” 

His hands drop.

“I… will not dishonor him by denying him his way- his people.” He lowers his head to the floor, almost as if speaking to himself again. “I can’t let the way you are influence me.” 

“What is that supposed to mean?” you hiss, the blasting blood deafening in your ears.

“You make rash, impulsive, emotional decisions.” The Mandalorian’s words slice your heart, cutting you down to the core. 

“You never take the bigger picture into account, the greater implications of your actions. Some things are more important than you or I want.”

“What about what he wants? You’re his father!” you yell, giving up on restraint. “That is more important than anything!”

“He… he will forget.”

You blink.

“A child-” your voice drops, quiets- “never forgets love.” You shake your head, nausea brewing in your stomach. “How can you be so cold? So… callus?”

He scoffs at you.

“You’re being foolish.” 

He turns to leave.

“Mandalorian-” your eyes are on fire, burning- “You’re the only fool I see. You’ve been given a gift; do you know what I’d give to have that again?”

He stares you down.

“But- but because you’re scared- you’re scared of failing him- you want to just dump him off on the first Jedi that crawls into your path!” You shake your head, using every ounce of control to keep from exploding.

You fail. 

“You’re the one being selfish, Mando! A coward!”

“I’ve sacrificed everything for him.” His voice takes on that dangerous tone again- warning you with every word spoken. “I wouldn’t expect you to understand.” 

“I thought you were more than a heartless bounty hunter under all that armor-” you sneer, tapping a finger against his chest- “but I guess I was wrong!”

Silence.

“You were wrong to assume anything about me,” he rasps under his breath, leaning into you. “I don’t have to explain myself or any of my decisions to you. We’re done here.”

He jerks around, sweeping up into the cockpit of the ship

“And I’m- I’m sorry I ever assumed I could know you, trust you!” You shout from the base of the ladder, hands trembling against the rungs. “Y-you don’t deserve the light you have been given!”

You burst away from the ladder, racing straight into the sleeping quarters and slamming the doors closed. You slump down into the corner, clutching a pillow tightly against your chest.

The nightmares, the memories, the voices, echo- scream- in your ears…

“Mama!”

-------

You stare straight ahead.

Exhausted.

You’re… exhausted. Emotionally. Physically.

Just- exhausted.

Ever since the Mandalorian left with the child for Mos Pelgo, you’ve been stewing alone in the cockpit, trying to make sense of your tumultuous emotions.

You- you just don’t understand. How…?

You lean forward in the pilot’s seat, burying your face in your hands.

How could he-

“Mando?”

You gasp, tearing your head up. The blue hue of the holo-display showers the dark cockpit in twinkling light.

A man- a stranger- stands in the display.

“Answer the holo, Mando.” He places both hands on his hips. “It’s important.”

You blink.

Hesitantly, you reach forward, flicking on the switch.

“Hello?” you question.

The man stares at you, taking in your unexpected appearance.

“I need to speak with the Mandalorian.”

“He, uh, he’s not here, and I don’t know when he’ll be back.” You lean forward, raising an eyebrow. “Can I… give him a message?”

“I assume you’re the girl from Taek?”

You slowly nod.

Silence.

“I wasn’t going to talk with you about this-” he glances away, his voice lowering- “but it appears I have no choice… Do you know who I am?”

“Ah, no.” You lean back in the pilot’s seat. “Should I?”

“My name is Greef Karga-”

“Oh, yes!” you interrupt. “Cara’s spoken highly of you.”

“Then you know my line of business.” He takes a few steps to the side, as if considering his words. “I was just visited by three individuals that should be… of interest to the Mandalorian… and you.”

“Oh no,” you breathe. “Is this about Taek again? Stars! They- more trouble from Nar Shaddaa?”

Greef slowly crosses his arms. “Not exactly.”

You blink. “Then I don’t… understa-”

“They sought you.”

Your blood freezes.

You- you can’t breathe.

“I told them nothing, of course. I informed them the Guild had no files, no information whatsoever. That you had never been on our radar.” Greef leans forward, his voice falling low. “They left most displeased.”

“No- don’t tell me this.” You press your head down into your knees. “Don’t tell me this.”

“I suggest you tread carefully, my dear-”

You lift your head.

“-they were Mandalorian.”

-------

You slip around the corner of the stone building, sliding right past the dumpsters lining the Mos Eisley street. You tighten the scarf around your face as you tip-toe into an alley- jumping at any hint of movement like a Lothcat on spice.

“Stars,” you hiss, tightening your arms across your chest, collapsing in on yourself as you walk.

Your life-

-is a disaster.

But it’s your disaster, for you to face. You will not endanger the child, put anyone else in the line of fire. 

With Mandalorians after you… Leaving- running away- it’s your only choice.

A sob erupts, and you slap a hand across the scarf covering your lips, pushing against the fabric.

You can’t give in. Not now. Not now.

You sink down into the dirt, pressed up against the wall tucked back behind a stack of boxes.

Trembling… You can’t stop trembling.

Something hard presses into your leg, and you glance down.

Your staff…

Din.

You take it off your belt, pressing it against your cheek. Groaning, you slide your eyes closed.

You’re- you’re going to miss him. All of them. You- you-

You part your lips, all the pent-up fear and heartbreak and pain and frustration bleeding out in in one long wail, the tears flooding, drowning your cheeks.

You’re all alone.

You’re all alone again.

You’re all fucking alone.

~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~

masterlist / previous chapter / next chapter

taglist: (in the comments)

a/n: I know what you’re thinking: OH NO! I forgot to get wille-zarr a Christmas gift! 

No problem! You can leave me a comment instead lol!

But seriously, OH. MY. STARS. The comments on chapter 7- you have NO IDEA how that pushed me to write this. I’ll be honest, this chapter probably would have taken another 1-2 weeks to write if it wasn’t for the love and comments last chapter! I spent countless nights staying up till 3AM trying to get this done. Again, thank you so much. You have no idea what it means to me- your comments fuel my writing! I love hearing from my regular readers! 

Special thanks for @sana-katarn​, whose endless knowledge of Old Republic terminology I inquired of endlessly while writing… really this entire story! She’s actually the best.

Also, this story will NOT being following season two. At times (such as in this chapter), some events from chapter two may pop up. But not often at all.  We’re going  for an ✨original plot✨ here. ;)

One last thing before I move into season 2 finale spoilers: next chapter, the action/angst kicks up- AGAIN. Like wow, I am so excited for everyone to read it! Things are kicking into gear! (And don’t worry, we will see the Arvala family again very soon!)

SEASON 2 FINALE SPOILERS BELOW YOU HAVE BEEN WARNED: ------- Okay, so W O W. That finale. Let’s talk.

I am 100% serious, I had this chapter, the scene where Din and reader fight over the child training to be a Jedi, planned out WELL before the finale! So, imagine my shock that this chapter and that particular scene in the finale happened to fall so close together! I felt a bit bad leaving chapter 8 on a sad note so soon after the finale, but it couldn’t be avoided. So, I’ll just say: trust where I’m going with things! It’s going to be surprising- in a good way! :)

[librarianandguardian]

Just a feeling- Saul Silva x Female!Reader

Pairing : Saul Silva x Female!Reader

Word Count : ~2300

Warnings : Fluff, brief mention of drug use and burns

Music : Un homme - Jérémy Frerot

Author’s note : Getting pretty stressed because of a huge project at school, so I wrote this to blow off some steam ! I also wanted to say that I do not agree with the way some characters are written and treated in this show. I hope I did not perpetuate these errors, and that I got Silva’s personality a bit right at least. Feedback is appreciated, may it be on the story telling or even the grammar. English isn’t my first language. Flahs-backs in italics. Enjoy ! :D

GIF ‘s not mine, and I can’t find the creator.

French First World songs resonate in the Great Hall, she is dancing. Wild and free. Her loosened hairs fly through the wind. She has traded her Specialist armour for a long flowing dress. Her feet are hammering the ground in rhythm. The crowd carries her all over the dancefloor; she twirls and claps her hands following the music.

From an ignored fairy bloodline, her parents considered her a Specialist Legacy. When her mind fairies powers woke up, everything went wrong ; she was always an overwhelmed child. No one could help her everytime she lost control. Nothing but medication: earrings to contain, and pills to attenuate. It wasn't bad. She lived like that her entire life.

Silva is sitting on a plastic chair, leaning on the table by his side, his gaze lingering. She is an exceptional fighter; dance must be a piece of cake and fun judging from her large smile. To be fair, he barely remembered her from their time at Alfea. Farah told him she was three years younger than him and seemed to have a few memories.

« (Y/N) travelled a lot to the First World prior to college. Her parents were emissaries and brought back souvenirs. Rumours said that her room resembled a cave of wonders.

-Ever went there ?»

His friend chuckled.

« Once. It was full of trinkets, books, movies, postal cards too. Ben caught interest in it, especially the giant botanic encyclopaedia throning on her bookshelf. We both agreed after a while that she might be the ray of sunshine of her Specialist promotion. But I guess she was discreet, if you've never heard of her.»

It took some memory searching, but he indeed remembered one thing. A conversation between a bunch of 1st years talking about a secret party displaying famous First World movies. A few hours later, on the training field, (Y/N) battled fiercely. It caught the attention of many students, who gathered around the platform. Curiosity taking the best of him, he had followed the crowd.

« What's that First World song that I love to describe you with ?

-By the light Clairo, is it really necessary ? »

Her opponent mocked her. She rolled her eyes, wielding her sword before choosing her fight stance.

« You son of... Maneater from Nelly Furtado. Now let's fight please.

-Alright doll, eat me up. »

(Y/N) huffed in annoyance. Clairo was a good fighter, but a little bit too flirty. He launched himself at her. The young woman stayed incredibly calm. Dodging to the right, she left him to stumble before hitting his back with the wooden weapon. He fell to the ground with a grunt. A shy smile spread on her features.

Now that he thinks about it, her earring had intrigued him : an ear chain hanging from the top of the cartilage of her ear to her lobe. Each end was composed of a lavendish round lilac crystal. When she lost control recently, those crystals lit up with a blinding light and burned her skin.

« I change the earring every five year. Every year If any several big crises occurred.

-What about your burns ? How did they clean them up ? »

Her left hand ghosted over her intact lobe, while Harvey healed the bruised flesh. Her eyes stared at the floor of the greenhouse. Saul was holding her other hand.

« They... I stuffed myself with pills. Sometimes enough to sleep through an entire day. Within the Solarian force, it was the only way for them to treat me. None of their mind fairies could calm me down. I don't think you realize how much this, she lifted her intertwined hand, helps.»

The soldier chuckles at the memory. His eyes examined his fingers, remembering how she locked hers, as she found an anchor in his mind.

« My best guess ? Your training forged your head to have a certain mindset in crisis.

-Loads of Solarian troupers could have given you that.

-Yeah. I can't really explain it, she laughed shyly, maybe because you're a teacher, that two of your long time friends are fairies or just because you're good with people.»

Their gazes crossed. The air thickened. Truth to be told, (Y/N) was so lost upon why he managed to calm her down. Farah tried to guide her, but even then, nothing positive came out. Her youth as a student at Alfea only consisted in shared side glances with him in hallways. She sure as hell found the man attractive, but she had other stuff to think about.

A loud giggle snaps him back to reality. (Y/N) falls on his laps while trying to take off her high heels. Her eyes are opened wide and a little glassy. She's definitely drunk.

« Oh by the light, I'm sorry Silva. Aimed at the table ! »

The atmosphere becomes lighter. He catches her when she nearly trips off by trying to get up, one of his arms snaking around to help. Steadying herself on his laps, she catches her breath slowly, though some giggles erupt as she looks around.

« How can you still dance, uh ?»

With a guilty smile, she leans slightly against the table.

« Alcohol ! It's the only thing keeping me up, baby !»

Instant regret shoots through her veins. Some red creeps up on her cheeks, as her hands cover her mouth. The soldier chuckles, enamoured by her adorableness. One thing that strucked him when they met was her lightness. Out of all the solarian troupers out there, or even all the specialists he ever crossed paths with, she was one of the few who stayed so bright and playful. Subconsciously, his fingers dig slightly in her hips.

« It's alright, (Y/L/N).»

She giggles a bit, but thanks him. Farah watches from a far, joined by Ben. (Y/N)(Y/L/N) has been teaching at Alfea for a year now. The entire school seemed to have transformed into a much more joyous place : students got along better, the shyest opened a tad and the roughest softened. Ben's daughter Terra found a supporter of her personal projects and a confidant. Ben himself benefited from her return. Mostly in books and knowledge but that meant already so much to him. Farah gained a daughter ; (Y/N)'s powers were a mess for her advanced age, helping felt natural. But what she loved the most was how confused Saul got with the new Specialist. Their bond strengthened with time, however the first few days rocked the Headmaster all over the place.

«(Y/L/N), what did you do to our office ? Did you... Are these books classified by alphabetic order and colour ?! »

His colleague shrugged, trying to see if he was mad or just surprised. It happened a few days after her arrival. Their shared office went under few renovations.

« (Y/L/N), why dancing classes ? »

She shot up, put her hands on his desk and took twenty minutes to explain how it would make their movements more flexible, strengthen teamwork and be a tool for future mission on the job. Astonished could not describe Silva's feeling.

An admirable change that proved beneficial to the students. These two grew very fond of each other. A lot more than they thought. Words in the hallways started to spread about their growing fondness.

« Okay, I got a question for you, soldier boy.»

Saul tilted his head to the side.

�� Are you having fun ?

-Of course I am.»

(Y/N) looks disappointed. Turning around, she pours some water in her cup and chugs it down.

« Really ? 'Cause the only thing I've seen you do is sit in a corner all night. »

He lowers his head, searching for the right words. How does he say that he just loves watching her run around the dancefloor ? How she bounds with students but also keeps their respect ? The fact that she's so organised that she could plan a First World themed party and keep her teacher skills to their best ? The shortest way for that would be admitting his feelings. He zones out long enough for her to talk again.

« It's okay. »

His eyes lock with hers. How did she sober up so quickly ?

« I know you have a reputation as a serious and frowny teacher to keep. And this is a graduation party, so. »

Never mind, she did not. The woman gets up, only to kneel under the tablecloth. He panics briefly.

« (Y/N), what on Earth are you doing ?»

She mumbles before appearing back outside. Her hands are holding a package. Another bright smile shines on her face. Silva knows what's coming, and he has mixed feelings about it; between fear, excitement and confusion.

« Happy Birthday Saul. »

His heart nearly stops. Few people know about his birthday, she is now a part of them. He frankly does not mind, even wished for it for a while now. His hands gently take the package to open it. Before his eyes lies a hard covered sketchbook and a wooden box full of high-quality pencils. The cover has a crow flying in a pearly sky with a red sun. The box is made of ebony and his name carved in silver. She knows an another of his secret. He tears up. The woman worries when he starts to sniffle. Much to her surprise, the soldier puts the gifts on the table before hugging her with all his might. Thank God the students are dancing or already out of the hall to smoke. (Y/N) answers his embrace, reassured.

« Thank you so much dear. »

It's her turn to have glossy eyes. She buries her face in his shoulder. This man is constantly under pressure and she has always wondered what he does during his free time : Does he train more ? He probably reads, right ? The answer came on a regular afternoon.

Silva knocked on her quarters' door. He heard shuffling before (Y/N) opened. She was wearing a bathrobe and a towel around her hair.

« Hi Saul ! Sorry hum. I woke up late and did not expect you so soon so, hum. »

The woman looked around, making her towel fall. Picking it up, she invited him in. He indulged, though a bit surprised.

« I'll be back in a jiffy, you know, putting some clothes on and all. Okay.»

She disappeared in her bathroom, leaving him to explore her room. Many watercolour paintings covered the walls, some abstract and others from the Realms of the Otherworld. However, a few landscapes felt unknown to him. On her desk lied sketches with a horde of different pencils. He discovered portraits of Farah, Ben, Terra, Sky, Riven and finally him. The lines were thin, some shadows sharp for the warriors and smoother for the fairies. A hint of jealousy took over him, quickly brushed away by shyness. The fact that she took the time to draw him was flattering. His fingers grazed over the pencils, wondering if he had time to prepare a little surprise. He puts down the file he came to discuss. A few minutes later, (Y/N) came out, dressed but her hair still wet on the edges. Silva was leaning against her desk, file in hand, a small smile on his features. She mirrored it before asking about the important matter at hand. Twenty minutes later, he left. Her eye caught a change in her drawing material : the portrait of Farah and Ben switched positions. She shuffled them, making sure everything was here, only to find an unknown piece. A cute fox was smiling, a little bubble under him stating :

« Nice Work (Y/L/N). Nice pencils too. Wish I had your talent.»

That last sentence made her wonder if he indeed had an artistic side. Needless to say that his quarters gave her answer. Same reason as his when he came, she knocked on his door one night. Though he did not fully invite her in, her eyes caught glimpses of nice sketches lying on a table, some rudimental equipment next to it.

They stay like this for a few seconds. The headmistress and Professor Harvey look at each other. No words, no need. Terra is chatting with a second year in a corner, bur her eyes catch them. She smiles, looking away shyly, but happy Sky sees the scene too, thanks to Riven who taps on his shoulder. They can't help the smile growing on their faces. Sky's father figure finding support is definitely going to be one of the highlights of their first year. (Y/N) and Saul part. One of her hands pats his arm.

« Wanna dance ? »

He closes his eyes, sighing. There is no lack of desire but the fear of what the students will say.

« I wish but... I don't know.

-I get it. But one day, you will ! That's a promise. »

With one last smile, she strolls back to the dancefloor, leaving him sheepish. He takes the sketchbook and a pencil. He might not dance tonight, but he'll make up to it.

[aurathian]

Life in a Dead World

My submission for @zelinkweek2021 day 5, prompt Domesticity: Family.

read it here on AO3!

When she gazes at the castle for the first time in one hundred years, when she takes her first good look at it in forever, she sees nothing but despair. Loss. She sees nothing but memories she once held dear, long dead and buried under the rubble. She sees nothing.

He is her guiding hand through this new, foreign world in which she is blind. The way he takes her hand ever so gently and leads her across the stepping stones of the future is comforting, but her steps are uneasy still.

“Zel,” someone calls. “Wake up.” A gentle shake rumbles her shoulder and she turns over to face the voice.

“I’m up,” she manages to say, though hoarsely, and wrenches her eyes open to meet Link’s face. He swipes a finger across her forehead, brushing back stray strands of her sunshine hair. Taking his time studying her face, his blue eyes dart around before settling on her lips. He places a chaste kiss upon them.

Most mornings spent in their house in Hateno Village were like this. She’d be woken up by him saying her name softly, like it’s a prayer, and he’d kiss her before rolling out of bed. He’d make them breakfast, something simple like eggs and rice, and then he would head out to the fields for work. She’d stay curled up inside, reading books on their bed and tinkering with whatever ancient scraps Link found on his adventures.

Zelda doesn’t really like the mornings. The sun rises and casts its bright rays on everything ugly in the world and the daytime forces her to face it. She remembers her last sunrise before the Calamity, though the memory is blurry and faded now. It was a quiet morning when she was sent on her way to the Spring of Wisdom to offer her final prayer to the Goddess Hylia, full of apprehension and fear—fears she fulfilled.

On this day, however, he makes pancakes topped with berries he had picked after work the day before. He serves her orange juice in one of the fancy glasses they reserve for company—though they never get visitors anyway—and sets the table nice, with placemats and flowers in the center.

“What’s the occasion?” she asks, finally lured downstairs by the sweet smells and clattering utensils. Sliding into the chair across from him, she takes up her fork and digs in.

“Nothing special,” he replies nonchalantly with a raise of his brows, but she can feel his gaze on her as he takes a sip of his own juice. Zelda is able to indulge in a few more bites of soft, buttery pancake before he speaks again.

“Will you come into town with me today?” he requests, his hand drifting across the table to gingerly grasp hers.

“That’s what the occasion is, then,” she mumbles bitterly. Her appetite is lost and she sets the fork down. “You know I can’t.”

The few times she stepped foot into Hateno Village, the few times she saw the faces of the men and women and children walking through town and living, she turned around and went back to their house on the edge of the village. Link would follow suit some time later and find her gripping the photo of them and the Champions, staining its glass cover with tears.

The village is bright and lively. He tries to make her see the good, but she is blinded by memories.

“Why not?” he prods, taking a step into where he’d never dared to go before, opening the door to her heart just a little more.

“You know why.” Her voice is shaky now. “When I look at them—when I see their faces, they… they remind me of the people I killed all those years ago.”

“You didn’t kill anyone.” His tone is the opposite of hers; certain and sure, and his foot is planted steady in the doorway now. Though his memories are few, they are vivid with color and life and they feel real each time he relives them, whether in his dreams or by traveling to the places he uncovered them in the first place.

“Killing isn’t just about who you strike with your blade, Link,” she scolds. “It’s about what you fail to do that causes their deaths.” Her hands rest now in her lap, leaving his empty and open atop the table. “In my case, I failed to awaken my power in time.”

“But they’re not the people you killed.”

“They look like ordinary citizens. People, innocent people, going about their lives. The very people affected by my incompetence.”

“But—”

“There is no reason for me to go into the village anyway.”

Link sits back in his chair. “Why?” he breathes. The door is closing and he’s fighting to keep it open now.

“Hyrule is dead,” Zelda says plainly. “It died long ago, with all those people. When I looked upon the castle, when we were traveling back here through ruin after ruin, I saw no life.”

“There’s life right outside our house,” he counters.

“We have experienced two different kingdoms, Link.” She stands from her chair and wanders to the stairs, fingers lingering over the banister. “You do not remember my Hyrule. In comparison, this land is dead.” The conversation is over. She walks up the stairs without a word and he can hear her shuffle into bed. Then, it’s silent.

—

He tries again the next morning. This time, he coaxes her outside with the promise of a morning spent picking the flowers growing in their yard. It’s peaceful and they can’t hear the sounds of Hateno Village from their quaint house across the bridge, and he watches her face as she plucks the white flowers from the ground. Her eyes are lidded and mouth curved into a small smile.

He wishes he could show those grass green eyes the beauty of the Hyrule he knows, from its snowy mountaintops to its humid jungles; wishes she could meet the people who helped him along his journey, the people he considers Champions of this new age.

When he’s accrued plenty of flowers in his basket, he calls out to her, “Hey Zel, come here!”

She crawls over, bringing her own basket alongside her. “What?”

“What do you want to do with all these flowers?”

She hums, then says, “I don’t know.” Pulling one out of her basket, she twirls it around by the stem.

“I was thinking we could go into the village and give them to the children,” he offers, standing up and holding out his hand.

“Is that what this was all about?”

“Well…”

She scowls, taking her basket and marching toward the house. He winces as the front door slams shut behind her.

Link, however, is persistent, and if he has anything, it’s the audacity. Every day he tries something new to get her to go into the village with him—getting water from the river, buying a new dress, even visiting Purah at the lab—but each attempt is turned down by her.

“I can do my own research right here from my bed,” she argues when he suggests visiting Purah. Never in his lifetime did he think he would witness Princess Zelda of Hyrule, ancient Sheikah tech extraordinaire and science nerd, turn down an opportunity to go study at a laboratory.

Then, one day, something strange happens. He leaves the house to go work in the fields like usual, bringing along a pitchfork and his lunch. He lets Zelda stay in the house to eat her breakfast and read her books. As he’s walking down the trail from his house, over the bridge and into the new developments that continue to creep ever closer to them, a hand grabs his sleeve.

“Zelda?” he asks when he sees her. “But I thought…”

“I don’t appreciate how often you tried to trick me,” she interjects, “but I did some thinking, and I want to try.”

He’s looking at her like she’s crazy, one eyebrow up and his mouth popped open.

“Please?” she begs.

Taking her hand into his, he nods, and together they walk into the village.

—

Zelda finds a comfortable spot on the edge of the well, legs dangling off the side and face shielded from the bright sun. She sits there, watching the children of the village run around and play, swinging at each other with sticks and throwing pebbles, while Link is off working in one of the farm fields. There are women behind the well gossiping a little loudly for her liking, but after a few hours she manages to tune them out.

One of the children approaches her grinning, missing teeth and all. Zelda’s world stops for a moment, forced to recall the faces of the children she aided in killing. She remembers running through Kakariko Village, drenched and dirty, and seeing the agonizing faces of the village youth while she desperately searched for Impa. She remembers the bodies—Goddesses, the bodies—both young and old, strewn across the cobblestone streets of Castle Town. Of all the memories she can visualize the best, it has to be that one.

“Hello, miss,” the child greets with a slight lisp.

Her world unpauses and she swallows hard, forcing herself to look into the child’s eyes. “Hello,” she replies.

“What’s your name? I’ve never seen you before.” There’s a booger under the child’s nose and a leaf in his hair.

“My name is Zelda.”

She’s staring at this child she’s never met before, with his big round eyes and missing teeth, and she pays special attention to the sound of his breath and the rise and fall of his chest. This child is alive, she knows, yet she can’t help but think of all the children whose blood stains her hands.

“Woah!” His eyes widen and his mouth drops open in shock. “Like the princess?”

“I suppose,” she sighs. In reality, she hates the title. It stings like a thorn even when it’s just an echo inside her head. Hearing the word forces her to recall the countless tales and rumors spread about her through the castle halls one hundred years ago, of her failures and incompetence.

“My mom has told me all sorts of stories about the princess! Like how pretty and nice she was.” Scowling, he crosses his arms. “Though my mom wasn’t alive then, so I don’t know how she knows that.”

“What are some other stories she’s told you?” Zelda raises a brow and leans in curiously. Does her memory survive on a different breath in this new Hyrule? For all intents and purposes, she doesn’t recognize herself from one hundred years ago as truly her. When people speak of the princess, they speak of a woman long dead.

“I don’t remember all of them, but she’s behind the well you’re sitting on. You could ask her.”

She glances back and winces. “Um, I think I’d rather have you tell me.” Zelda hops off the edge of the well and kneels down in front of the child. “What’s your name?”

“My name is Nebb,” he says. “Say, I don’t remember much about the princess, but I can tell you about this one guy I know.”

“Sure,” she replies, sitting on the ground next to Nebb.

“There was this traveler who came by our village a lot,” he begins, “and I asked him to show me a ton of weapons! I don’t know how he was able to find all of them, though. I think he lives in the old house outside of town.”

Zelda hums, resting her head in her hands. She thinks of Link, of the various weapons on display in their house, and there’s no doubt in her mind that she knows exactly who Nebb is talking about.

“I might know him,” she says.

“Really?” Nebb shouts. “He’s so cool, isn’t he? I’ve seen him totally demolish the Bokoblins that come too close to the village before.”

“He’s very cool,” she agrees, trailing off as a little girl approaches them. “And who is this?”

“I’m Narah!” says the little girl. “This is my brother.” She gestures to Nebb and he groans before running away to go play.

“Well, Narah, I’m Zelda.”

“I like to talk,” Narah states. “Ask me some questions!”

“Like what?”

“I don’t know. You’re the one asking them.”

Zelda can’t help but laugh. It’s a bright and healthy laugh, one that enraptures Link as he approaches her, sweaty from a day in the field.

“Someone’s enjoying herself,” he chuckles, helping Zelda stand from the ground. Narah gets bored with the attention no longer on her and chases after her brother.

“The children are very sweet,” Zelda admits. “Apparently people share stories about me.”

“They do,” he says. “They’re nothing like the stories you heard all those years ago.”

“What do you mean?”

Her steps as they walk back to the house are more confident, and her grip on his hand is sure.

“I know how people talked about you back then, Zelda. I figured it out through my memories.” He pushes the door open for her, setting his pitchfork against the outside wall before stepping inside. “But these people… they look up to you. You’re a beacon of light to them.”

“But I didn’t do the one thing I was supposed to,” she argues. “They don’t look up to me. They look up to the princess of a century ago.”

“They know you as that princess—that princess who valiantly sacrificed herself to the Calamity to prevent it from reaching their homes. You are what kept Hyrule alive all this time.”

“I’m not a princess anymore,” she mumbles, climbing up the stairs. “It’s just Zelda now. Besides, they don’t even know I’m her. We are two different people now, Link.”

He says nothing, only steps up to the kitchen counter and rummages through the cupboard.

“What do you want for dinner?”

—

She ventures into Hateno Village with him every day now, sitting at her usual spot along the edge of the well and talking to the village children. They are healing, she finds, with their wide smiles and innocent, naive eyes. After some days, she starts playing with them, chasing them around the village and tossing balls back and forth.

She would give anything to go back in time and have the childhoods they have. To frolic in the outdoors, to have both parents, to play and wish and dream and be a child. If Zelda wasn’t so wary of the statues of the Goddess Hylia, she would pray at them once more, pray for a real childhood.

One day, she finally talks to the mothers behind the well. Or, rather, they talk to her.

“Miss,” one of them prods, “why do you come watch our children everyday?”

“Oh, um.” Zelda fiddles with her fingers. “They’re very sweet.”

The women exchange strange glances. “You’re not trying to snatch up my little boy, are you?”

“No! Of course not, no,” Zelda hastily replies. “Nebb introduced himself to me. I enjoy playing with the children.”

The women still aren’t satisfied, and she can tell, so she asks, “What’s it like to be a mother?”

“Oh, it’s something, alright,” the woman with her brown hair tied up groans. “Every day is a struggle. Wake up, get ready, yes, you do have to finish all your veggies!”

Zelda smiles a little but wonders if it is really so much of a struggle to gossip behind the well every day.

“But there are times where I relish it,” the other one pipes up. “My children gave me a purpose when I had none.” A dreamy look casts itself upon her eyes. “They are my pride and joy, as difficult as they can be. My guiding lights, so to speak.”

And something clicks inside Zelda’s mind.

Link picks her up again at the well, sweaty and hot and tired as he normally is after a long day of moving hay and harvesting crops, and as they walk over the bridge to their house she stops him with a gentle hand on his shoulder. He looks over to her, frowning with concern.

“Link, I want a child,” she states, and his jaw drops.

Normally, he would try to keep her out of bed for as long as possible. That night, however, he wastes no time in helping her into it.

And so their life continues on exactly like that—days spent working or playing with the village children, rubbing her belly in the hopes she may have one too, nights spent panting in bed, kissing, hot and sweaty and intimate. They’re not strangers to making love, but they are new to doing so with a purpose.

Zelda is suspicious when she misses her period, but what solidifies her hypothesis is when she wakes up one morning with a sick feeling in her stomach before leaping out of bed and rushing outside to dispose of last night’s dinner all over the grass. Link awakens only moments later, finding her outside hunched over and gripping one of the house’s posts. He holds her hair back while she retches some more.

“Zelda…?”

She can only look back at him and smile, nearly laughing with joy, before jumping up to hug him.

“I still don’t get it,” he says while she peppers kisses all over his face.

“Link, I missed my period a while ago,” she explains, finding her footing on the grass. “And feeling sick in the morning, throwing up… do you not know what it means?”

His face contorts in thought, eyebrows furrowed and nose scrunched. His blue eyes drift off to something in the distance as he racks his brain for a possible conclusion.

Zelda whispers into the ear of her lover, “I’m pregnant.”

She can’t see his face light up because he hugs her so tight she’s struggling to breathe, but she lets it happen. Her wish, her one prayer she had ever bothered to offer to the Goddess after the defeat of the Calamity, comes true.

—

The nine months go by like a breeze, her bump growing week by week, having to stay home and rest more often because of it, but she’s happy. She spends her evenings in the rocking chair Link constructed for her, singing to her belly as she rubs it with her soft hands. Her cravings get weirder, too. One week, she’s asking for delicious fruitcake, and the next, she’s asking for soup but instead of meat, it’s monster parts.

Still, Link obliges, going out and picking (or slaying) whatever he needs to to satisfy her. Eventually, the doctor they visit in the village has to start coming to them when it becomes too backbreaking for Zelda to walk, and by some will of the Goddess, the doctor is present when she goes into labor on a rainy autumn morning.

Even as she’s pushing and screaming and grunting, Zelda thinks Hylia must be apologizing, because according to the doctor, it was one of the easiest deliveries he’s ever assisted with. He hands Zelda her baby, wailing and wriggling, small and pale, with a head of soft, thin hair, colored like Link’s. The doctor leaves them alone, lingering downstairs in case anything else needs to be done.

Link kneels by the bedside, watching as Zelda coos at the baby and pokes at her tiny hands. “What will we name her?” she asks him.

“Do you have any ideas?”

She hums, but her eyes never leave the baby. “I would like to name her Impa,” she says.

“I think that’s a great name.” His voice is a whisper now, quiet and hushed as he marvels at the sight of Zelda and their child, and for the first time in a long while, his beloved’s green eyes shine once more.

She smiles down at her baby, because even in a Hyrule she thought long dead, new life still prospers.

[kn1feinthec0ffee]

love me love me (say that you love me) - spencer reid

spencer reid x fem!reader

title from lovefool by the cardigans 

summary: after a close brush with death in the field, y/n visits an injured spencer in the hospital to have a heart to heart.

warnings: a lil bit of angst, fluff bc im incapable of writing pure angst, descriptions of injury

word count: 1,987 

notes: this is my submission for @veraiconcos​‘ fic writer challenge, i spent a super long time on this and i really hope you guys enjoy it as its one of my favorite things i’ve ever written ☺️

********************

settling in to what would be another evening of unfortunate, unwanted solitude due to your boyfriend having yet another late night at work, you stretched out across the sofa, wine glass in hand, ready to relax after a hard day’s work.

that was until your phone began to ring and vibrate obnoxiously across the wooden coffee table.

“jj? hi, what’s up?” you inquired, curious as to why she was calling you during a case.

“we got the guy, but spence wasn’t so lucky.” she began hesitantly. “he almost got shot, but he was stabbed a few times.”

she heard your stifled gasp through the speaker, cutting you off before you would inevitably begin rambling off questions, a habit of spencer’s you’d acquired after a long while of knowing him. “don’t worry, he keeps telling everyone he’s fine. doctor says the wounds might scar, but overall he should be alright.”

you scrunched your eyes closed, willing your racing heart to slow with the news that spencer would be okay. despite jj’s calming tone and the relatively good news from the call, you couldn’t help the nagging feeling that your boyfriend was not, in fact, okay.

“thanks, babe. would you mind telling me where you guys are? am i allowed to come visit?” your voice took on a hopeful tone that your hands betrayed, anxiously twirling a loose strand of hair that had fallen out of your bun.

“visiting hours ended a little while ago, but i’m sure i can pull a few strings for you.” your chest deflated with a relieved sigh at the thought of having visual confirmation spencer would be fine. “i just texted you the address, see you soon, y/n.”

“you too. bye,” the phone dropped onto the table with a hollow clatter. you downed what little was left in your wine glass before standing up from the sofa to get ready. you still couldn’t shake the feeling that something was up with spencer so you put in an extra bit of effort to wear some of his favorite pieces of clothing of yours, just to bring a smile to his face.

———————————————

after receiving special clearance from jj at the front desk, you headed down the hallway. you never liked hospitals; you found something about about the stark white, sterile halls cold and off putting.

the door slowly opened, a gentle creak emanating from its well-used hinges. you had hoped your entrance would be quiet enough to let the boy wonder rest, but alas, he had woken up.

though the way his irises glistened in the artificial light when he saw you was just as gratifying.

“y/n, what are you doing here?” the interrogative sounded less like a question and more like an exclamation of awe, but you weren’t complaining.

“what, you didn’t think i’d show up when a little birdie told me my boyfriend was stabbed on duty? some girlfriend i’d be,” you scoffed sarcastically.

the plastic legs of the chair skidded across the linoleum as you dragged it next to the bed. spencer held out a hand towards you to hold, a sure fire sign something was wrong.

he loved affection, especially from you, but he only seemed to initiate it on blue moons.

you gratefully slipped your fingers in between his and gave them a quick, reassuring squeeze. “what happened, hon?”

his amber hues flicked to several spots around the relatively uninteresting room before landing on your intertwined digits. “we raided his apartment just like we usually do and i happened to be the first one to come across him. i saw he had a gun and i’m lucky i ducked pretty quickly or else i might not even be here at all.

“morgan and i moved in on him to make the arrest, but it slipped our minds that the profile said he was hyper-vigilant and paranoid, and i failed to notice knife he had in his other hand and he stabbed me a few times before emily pulled him away from me.” spencer recalled with an expertise that came as a surprise to absolutely no one who knew him.

“you say that like you’re reciting a poem,” you frowned, rubbing a thumb across his knuckles. “you could’ve died, spence.”

“i guess it’s just not that big of a deal to me?” he seemed to question his own statement as it passed through his lips. “i think i’ve grown so accustomed to putting my life on the line that i just doesn’t even faze me anymore.”

“i get it, but don’t you ever - i don’t know - get worried you won’t come back to me one of these days?” you averted your eyes to the floor.

his grip on your hand tightened exponentially, causing your gaze to snap up to his. “of course i do, i worry about you all the time. isn’t it normal to worry about the person you want to spend the rest of your life with?”

his admission of love brought heat to your cheeks and tears to your eyes. “good, good, i’m glad we both agree on that then.” you smiled sadly.

the presence of an oddly heavy silence weighed down on both of you as you sat in thought. “do you ever get tired, y/n?” the genius queried quietly, elaborating when he noticed the confusion etched across your features. “i mean - well - tired of me? of my life being on the line every time i go to work? of thinking that maybe that time you said goodbye to me when i left would be the last time? doesn’t that exhaust you?”

this was exactly what you had been anticipating since jj called. the drawn-out periods of unusual silence, less eye contact than normal, the anxious fidgeting. not that you’d tell him, but you’d subtly began subconsciously profiling as well. 

  “if you’re asking if i get tired of those things, then yes, i do,” you murmured softly. “but if you’re asking if being with you while i have to deal with all those things is exhausting, then my answer is no. absolutely not.”

another pause. spencer played with your fingers, fiddling around with the ring he’d bought for you as fond memories swirled through his mind. “wouldn’t it be easier if you were with someone else? i don’t know, maybe someone with an average career where they don’t look at dead bodies and arrest serial killers all the time? maybe a barista or something less traumatizing than what i do?”

your lips curled up into a smile as you giggled. “yeah, i mean, of course that’d be easier, but when has life ever been easy? and besides, why would i want a barista when i could have a badass, genius iq level guy like you?”

he grinned, holding eye contact for the longest period of time since you passed through the door. “i think those attributes directly contradict each other, but whatever makes you happy, love.” 

the tension had lifted, conversation flowing with ease, yet you could still tell there was something off about reid. something left unspoken.

“hey,” you murmured, brushing a stray strand of hair out of his face. “you sure you’re alright?”

a moment of hesitation flickered through his eyes before he answered. “of course i am. didn’t i say i was?”

“you did, but you don’t have the best track record when it comes to being honest about your emotions.” you watched several emotions pass through his eyes - one of his tells; those hazel hues could be read like a book.

he seemed to take a deep, collective inhale before he spoke in a small voice. “i know you said you weren’t tired of me, but i’m just scared you’re lying. n-not that i think you would ever be untruthful,” he immediately corrected himself upon understanding how his words could be perceived.

“i-” tears brimmed his coffee colored optics, terrifying you for what he might say next. “you’re the most important thing in my life- in the world even- and i’m just worried you’ll leave me. i’ll come home one night when you’ve decided you’ve had enough of this life and you have all your bags packed, ready to leave. i don’t want to lose you. i can’t lose you.”

noticing a few drops had landing on your lap, you realized you’d been crying as he admitted his insecurities to you. “i love you so much, spencer. more than anything in the world. and i know how hard it is to quiet those voices, and i know whatever i say will only be enough to quell them for a while, but you’re everything to me. just know i would never, ever even dream of leaving you.”

you sniffled, wiping the tear tracks from your face when you looked over to spencer. he held eye contact with you, something you knew was challenging for him to do.

“y/n,” he moved a hand to cup your cheek. “if i asked you to stay, would you?”

you let his words sink in and nodded nearly imperceptibly. you laid a kiss on his palm before turning to him again. “absolutely. i am wholly and completely devoted to you, spencer reid.”

his cheeks burned and his brows furrowed, almost as if he was having trouble accepting your straightforward answer. “do you promise?”

you debated a sarcastic response, but you were unsure what his reaction might be in such a vulnerable state, and you didn’t want to find out.

“i do, my love.” you murmured, crossing your pinky with his. he settled, visibly, too, at your admission of adoration. you knew he struggled with fully trusting those around him and you were immeasurably proud of him in this moment.

“are you heading home?” his soft lilt broke the silence that had blanketed the room with its persistent presence. “i wouldn’t blame you if you were.”

“are you kidding? after all that rom-com sappiness you think i want to leave?” you both laughed, basking in the positivity of the moment. “i’m afraid you’re stuck with me. look, i even brought a change of clothes and everything.”

while you loved the adorable look of surprise on his face, you almost wished you could wipe away any doubts he may harbor in his mind about you and your unwavering loyalty. you looked up at him again as he spoke. “are you going to sleep in that chair?”

“i’d lay with you, but you’ve got wounds everywhere and no way in hell am i risking re-opening anything that’s been sealed.” you held your hands up in mock defense, earning a chuckle from the doctor.

“you could, um, put your head on my chest,” his cheeks tinted pink. “i love it when you do that.” you planted a quick kiss on his cheekbone before pressing a longer one to his lips.

every time your lips met, as cliched as it was, it felt like the first again. not in every way, they were missing the same awkward teeth clashing and spit swapping as the original, but you could almost feel every ounce of passion jolting all the way through your being. and most assuredly, spencer reciprocated your feelings as he chased your lips every single time they made to retreat from his.

you pulled the chair as close to the hospital bed as you could and rested your head on his chest. the lyrical, constant beat of spencer’s lulled you to sleep, creating a symphony just for you.

before your eyes closed, you intertwined spencer’s fingers with yours, prompting him to look down at you. “i’ve got promises to keep, and miles to go before i sleep.”

though he knew it was medically impossible, spencer reid’s heart leapt a mile in his chest at the irrevocable love he felt for you, both in that moment and always as he completed the line, “and miles to go before i sleep.”

********************

guys wait i think this is the first ending i’ve written that i actually enjoy and i just finished this at 1am last night and i am so sleep deprived

please let me know if you want to be added/removed from my taglist!! 

tags: @sojournmichael @stinkyelf​ @crazyfore3​ @cal-ifornication​ @eggygorl02​ @howdycharlie​ @eosprincess​ @mortallythoughtfulgurl​ @illuxions-x​ @unlikelyempathpruneauthor​ @blankets-for-bees​ @holycandypizza​ @flyingbabyunicornnamedangel​ @lovelyrdjr​ @minnie-bby​ @fantastic-fans​ @ashwarren32​ @rexorangecouny​ @elitereid​ @keomoon​ @achieveonyourown​ @whogirl7​ @jjtheangel​ @carol-danvers-wife​

[vibraniumwing]

i’ve got you, always. [2]

an oliver wood x reader wherein oliver tries to bring the walls the reader built because of a past heartbreak down. will he manage to do that or break his own along the way?

WARNING: angst, effects of toxic relationships mentioned. 

A/N: so @harrysweasleys​ planted this idea into my mind about how oliver wood and y/n’s love blossomed after her heartbreak with fred. (if you do not know that, please do read this before continuing.) so i’ve broken this down into two parts due to the fact that it was too long. i hope you guys enjoy this, i promise things would look brighter in this one.

i’ve broken this down into two parts, find the first part here.

---

It’s been nearly four years since he left Hogwarts, since he left you.

Oliver was doing good, life was going great for him. He was a reserve player for Puddlemere United, he has met a ton of people due to his passion. However, there was still a missing piece within him. A piece that no amount of money and materials can fill in.

He still missed you.

---

“C’mon! Hurry Up!” Oliver’s voice shouted through the chaos as they rushed to the main warzone at Hogwarts, the adrenaline pumping as he saw the school he once attended and deemed as a second home in ruins as flashes of green and red ensued the field, leading a group of his old Quidditch teammates down into the field. 

“Professor!” Olive was quick to shout, immediately spotting McGonagall who was tending to students running from left to right. “Tell us where to go, we’re on it.” Katie, an old student and former member of the Gryffindor Quidditch Team added upon nearing the woman. 

McGonagall had easily directed them inside the castle, telling them to spread out and assist whoever they could and care for themselves along the way. Oliver sprinted along the hallways- or what was left of it- as he casted spells left and right to shield students from their impending misfortune.

He had run into familiar faces along the way, bumping into Harry once as they both fled their separate ways and from afar he spotted a certain ginger who was running frantically through the crowd, fighting his way through threats; looking for someone amongst the sea of what it seems like never-ending people. 

That’s when he heard it, your familiar voice stood out from the loud crashes of walls. “I’d rather die knowing I didn’t live a life under a monster!” He heard it as clear as day, running to over where you are, he immediately casted, “Stupefy!” which sent the death eater flying away, taking you in his arms in a tight hug.

“You have to be more careful, lass.” His voice was rather broken as you took your face in his hands, letting out a shaky breath as he took in your rather relieved smile. He didn’t know what took over him but tears suddenly filled his eyes, the pent up emotions he had overwhelming him as his posture relaxed visibly.

Holding his hands, you let out a soft chuckle, “I’m alright, Oli. Thanks to you, of course.” a shaky sigh soon following as the fear soon slowly sunk in. You leaned into his touch, finding warmth and safety in his touch before giving him a big smile. “We best be off now and fight our way ‘til dawn, Oli. Thank you so much for saving me.”

His heart was jumping out of his ribcage at the sight of you leaning into him, engraving that into his mind as he nodded. “Promise me you’ll be safe, (Y/N).” He said, voice dripping of seriousness as he readied himself to let you go. This earned an eye roll from you but a big smile nonetheless, nodding eagerly, “Of course, Oli. Thank you once again.”

With a reluctant sigh, he quickly placed a kiss to your forehead and let you go, “I’ve got you, (Y/N). Always.” he said, showing you a bright smile as he and you both ran your separate ways. The sudden course of energy flowed through him, making him feel invincible almost instantly.

“Oh and Wood! Whatever you do, don’t tell Weasley you saw me!” Your voice rang out once more, making him stop dead in his tracks. His head whipped to where you were but all he saw was you saving the twin of the man you just said not to mention your existence to. 

What do you mean by that exactly?

---

The sun slowly shined through the broken walls of the Great Hall, multiple people either crying or just in a trance due to the whirlwind of events that just happened within just a few hours. 

Oliver was by the bleachers, tending to a few first years who were severely injured when he saw a glimpse of your clothes walk away from the castle. He handed the cloth to the boy, “Can you tend to this for a bit?” To which the younger nodded, taking the cloth from him. 

He was quick on his feet and ran to you, catching you in the nick of time as well. His hand grasped onto your wrist, making you twirl around to be greeted by the same honey-colored eyes you’ve seen just a few hours back.

And there it was again, the butterflies you’ve sworn to ban from your stomach, it’s back.

“Oli! I’m so glad you’re okay” You breathed out, taking him into your arms for a hug, heaving a sigh of relief at the sudden burden lifting of your chest. You placed your hands on his shoulders, eyes inspecting all over his face and visible skin, looking for any sort of abrasion on his skin, “Are you hurt anywhere?”

This made him laugh rather loudly, shaking his head, “I’m all good. This is nothing I can’t handle, if I survived nasty bludgers to my stomach, pretty much I can handle anything.” He said, smiling at you rather happily before remembering the reason why he approached you in the first place.

“Would you mind telling me why you asked me to keep you hidden from a specific Weasley, (L/N)?” He suddenly asked, shoving his hands into the pockets of his rather tattered jeans, eyes watching how your hands went back to your sides as your body tensed up at the question, clearly caught off guard. 

“We aren’t together anymore.” You explained, gently leaning against the bridge as you crossed your arms, now sparing him a sad smile; despite successfully pushing the memories away, you’ve never really recovered from the fear of loving someone and just have them let go in the end. Ever since the day Fred left, your heart sealed the deal of never loving anyone again.

Taking his silence as a notion to continue, “I caught him kissing another girl one night, then when I gained courage to officially break things off, that was also the day that he and George left Hogwarts. I couldn’t bear to see him today after everything he’s put me through.” You further explained, the fear creeping back into your mind as tears started to fall. 

Oliver didn’t even hesitate to pull you into his arms, engulfing you in a tight hug to silence the sobs that slipped past your lips. He held a subtle scent of cinnamon and ash wood, making you sink into his embrace further, not wanting to let go from the warmth he emitted. 

His hands found its way back to your cheeks, cupping them as his thumb prodded against your skin that glistened with tears, “I’m sorry I wasn’t there to help you through it, love.” His voice gentle as he spoke, afraid of ruining the fragile moment. You smiled at his caring tone, leaning into his touch once more. 

“(Y/N), I know this may come as a surprise, and I'll accept whatever reaction you may have, but I just want you to know that I’ve got you, always. I know you’re still going through a lot right now because of your emotions, but I’d be more than happy to help you through it all.” He suddenly said, sincerity dripping with every word he spoke, despite the erratic pacing of his heart. 

“I’ve loved you since Godric knows when and I just can’t stand seeing you like this. I won’t mind how long it would take, I’d love you every second of it and even more.” He ended his confession, a shy yet hopeful grin on his lips as he stared at you, readying himself for the probable rejection.

You were stunned into silence, shocked that someone has loved you all his life without the certainty of him receiving the same love back, that someone stayed despite of you losing yourself for another person. Your judgement easily wanted to reject him, to leave him hanging and just protect your heart, but a small part of you just yearned to be held like how he was holding on to you, to feel the warmth and affection he had easily given you over the course of your discussion right now. 

All of these emotions were coursing through your body as he patiently waited for your answer, eyes never leaving his rather calm expression; how he reminded you of the same warmth he had always given you back in the day.

“Just promise me to always be truthful and that you won’t hurt me, Oli. I’ll try and learn to love once again, just please promise me this.” Your voice quietly spoke, searching for the sincerity that never left the brunette’s face. 

“Of course, (Y/N). I promise to give you what you deserve. I’ve got you, always.”

---

And he did hold on to his promise, Oliver had always been so patient with you; giving you the space you need when you ask for it, the attention, affection and love always there despite him going out to train on a daily basis.

He’d always visit your small business and help out when he’s off from Quidditch training, be proud of all that you have done. He has treated you with the utmost respect and understood days where you just can’t control your emotions and help you through the toughest days and weeks; Oliver had always been there. 

Nearly a year into his promise, you’ve realized how much you have fallen for the male, realizing how he effortlessly broke down the walls of fear and hatred for love and replaced it with warmth and security. 

How your heart would flutter when you hear him laugh at your rants and stories from the customers you would encounter, how he would always be gentle when tending to you, how we kept the end of his promise, how he only made you feel that you were worth the fight and patience; that’s when you knew you love him.

---

The two of you were sat by the garden of your childhood home, the sun shining through the spaces in between the leaves as you two sat by the bench swing under the tree. You asked him to accompany you to your family dinner and he gladly accepted the offer, even clearing out his schedule for you. 

It was still quite early so the two of you decided to kill some time by your backyard, your younger cousin immediately finding him interesting and decided to keep you guys some company, settling himself by Oliver’s lap. His feet were gently swinging the bench as he held unto him, lulling him gently to sleep. “Looks like Theo had grown quite attached to you.” You whispered, giggling softly at the sight. 

A soft chuckle resonated from his lips, shrugging lightly as he spoke, “I’ve got my way with kids, what can I say?” tone light and easy as to not wake the child up while his hand rubbed on his back soothingly. 

Maybe it was how he looked at that exact moment that you knew you wanted this forever or just the way your heart pulsed out of beat that made you say, “Oli, I love you.” Your eyes were trained on him as you had sincerity painted all over your features, cheeks as red as the sweater he was wearing at the realization of what you just said, “I’m sorry, that didn’t mean to come out-”

“(Y/N), you have no idea how long I’ve wished for you to say those words to me, you don’t have to apologize for any of it. I love you too.” Were his words, tears forming in eyes as his whole body was suddenly filled with gratitude and warmth, Oliver was never the one to cry, but hearing those words from you were enough to move him to tears, knowing that you meant that by heart. 

Now wrapped upon comfortable silence, the two of you had the biggest smiles as your hands were now interlocked, his thumb caressing your skin gently. “(Y/N)! Oliver! You guys come in now, dinner’s almost ready and we’re about to take pictures!” your mother called out, hand waving to rush you guys back in. 

The two of you looked at each other knowingly before getting up from the seat, his hands cradling Theo as you made your way inside, immediately greeted by your uncles and aunts who you haven’t seen in quite a while. 

“Merlin’s beard, who might this be then?” One of your uncles asked, staring straight at your companion who instantly straightened up despite rocking your cousin in his arms gently. He was about to answer when you spoke up, “This is Oliver Wood, a former schoolmate, one of Puddlemere United’s reserve players and most importantly, my boyfriend.” introducing him with a proud smile as you take his free hand in yours, squeezing it gently. This earned hollers from your cousins and older relatives, making your cheeks a warmer hue than how it was already.

He looked rather surprised at the last thing you put, giving you a did you just say what I think you just did? Which you returned with a subtle nod, smiling happily as your cousin took baby Theo in her arms, quietly thanking him. “Before you even ask, you already know my answer, Oli.” you immediately said, reaching up to peck his cheek before leaving him to help out with your parents. 

That’s when he knew that he wanted this for eternity.

---

Oliver’s heart was erratic as he touched the small velvet box in his pocket as he led you to the very same place where you first confessed your love for him, smiling at the sight of you nervous and trying to peek through the blindfold, squeaking gently as he let you go, gentle music now filling the quiet space, melding with the noises of the grasshoppers that echoed through. 

“You can remove your blindfold now, love.” He said from behind you, to which you happily complied, eyes instantly catching the rather intimate candle-lit dinner set up under the tree, tears springing into your eyes as you searched for your boyfriend, turning around to see him standing with a bouquet of your favorite flowers which he handed off to you.

“This is going to be really cheesy but a year ago, today, a very special girl said something to me under this very same tree. A year ago today, was also the day that I knew that I wanted her- this- for the rest of my life.” He started off, a nervous smile displayed on his lips as he grabbed the same small box from pocket, getting ready to kneel down. 

“I know that we haven’t been together for the longest, but being with you for a year was enough to convince me that I would never find another. You might have beaten me to say I love you first, but I want to be the last person you’d ever say it to. So, (Y/N) (L/N), will you marry me?” He finished off, your vision blurred with tears as it was greeted by a simple yet elegant diamond ring. 

You were at a loss for words as happiness overwhelmed you, only managing to let out a small “yes” as you opened your arms for him, to which he easily found himself in, capturing your lips in a kiss  before slipping the ring on your finger.

“I love you so much, (Y/N)”

“I love you as much, Oliver.”

---

“Are you really sure about this, darling?” He questioned you one last time as his eyes wandered through Diagon Alley, seeing the rather large moving figure of Weasley’s Wizard Wheezes come closer. 

You had asked if it was alright to personally give your invitation to George, to which he happily agreed,  the unnerving feeling of you seeing the man’s twin still present despite the never-ending reassurance that you gave him that it was alright, that you can handle yourself. 

“I am, Oli. Don’t worry too much, I’ll be fine.” You answered, finally reaching the front door of the shop. Your hands slipped from his as you grabbed the invitation from your bag, placing a chaste kiss on his lips in the process. “Don’t miss me too much, Mr. Wood”

He laughed softly, waving as you entered the shop, “I’ll try not to!” he answered, peeking through the glass of the door. A wide smile on his lips as you were now greeted by the ginger, nodding at his direction as you pointed at him from the outside, to which the latter waved happily, giving him a thumbs up in approval. 

What happened next however, made his blood boil. He knew that Fred would be surprised to see you, but to see him take you in his arms was enough for him to rush inside and blast a hard punch across the man’s face, loathing how he treated you in the past. His better judgement, however, told him not to intervene and just trust your words.

His jaw was clenched shut as he watched the scene unfold, how he subtly heard you voice say that you didn’t want any part of him anymore, that you were done and you were happy with him. 

With those words said, a sudden wave of tranquility washed over him as pride swelled over his chest, a big smile on his lips as he welcomed your figure with a warm hug, placing a gentle kiss to your forehead before wiping the tears that managed to escape your eyes, “Are you alright, princess?”

You nodded, not moving from his grasp as you captured his lips in a kiss, conveying how thankful you are for him, how thankful you are that he taught you how to love once again. “I am, love. I’m just so thankful for you, I love you.”

He smiled once more, resting his forehead against yours as he spoke, “You know I love you too, love. You don’t have to thank me for anything.”

“And why is that?”

“Because as a girl told me one too many times before, I’ve got you, always.”

--

general taglist: @theweasleyslut​ @violetravens​ @starlightweasley​ @eunoia-kth ( i can’t tag you :<)

[mrsbarnes107]

Secret of the Widow

-part eight-

Summary: Post Endgame time period. The team is healing, trying to navigate this new normal they’ve found themselves in when Bucky and Sam bring home a stray with an attitude and a secret. Will the broken team take her in? Or is it too much to bare?

Warnings: language, *eventual* violence and smut, death, fluff, angst

Pairings: Bucky x OC

Disclaimer: this is posted to Wattpad as well and it WILL HAVE PLOT. I’m a Bucky hoe so there will be smut and romancy stuff but this is a series, so plot plot plot and slow burn.

*Bucky POV*

I've finally gotten away from Wilson and his incessant blabbering, and am now making my way to the training room to find Ali.

Ever since she got here, there's been this ache in the back of my mind. It feels a lot like the first time I saw Steve all those years ago. A dull tug, trying to pull something forward.

She knows me. Knows me well apparently. And I feel deep in this little dark corner of myself, that I know her too. She unsettles me immensely, the thought of her risking herself so wantonly with the Winter Soldier, knowing my past and darkness. It's horrible. But shes also comforting. A type of comfort I haven't felt in a long while.

She's a wild card still. Unpredictable. And yet she peaked my curiosity.

I still can't get her teary blue eyes out of my mind. I'm thankful I heard her sneak past my room the night before. Otherwise I never would have followed her to the lab. Never would have seen her pain and loss so openly. Her cries were heartbreaking, sobs wrenched from deep inside.

I understand what it's like to feel utterly alone and confused. And I wish I could take that feeling from her.

Taking a quick left I stop at the door of the training room, hearing music and the dull thud of knife hitting Kevlar.

God help me I can't get the image of her dancing so carefree in my hoodie out of my head either. Walking into the kitchen to that view, well fuck me back to the 40s. A beautiful woman dancing and singing, a home cooked meal on the stove, and a blade twirling between delicate fingers. She's going to give me whiplash. Or death.

This need to protect and cherish her conflicts with the instinct to be wary and set clear distance and it's worse than the cyclone at Coney Island.

I just know this isn't a good idea.

***

*OC POV*

"You're letting go too soon Doll."

FUCKING BLOODY HELL I'm gonna kill this man.

I very much did NOT let out a tiny squeak for the second time today and launch ANOTHER knife straight at Buckys (admittedly handsome) stupid face.

Okay I did.

With a cocky flourish he catches it and give the blade a nice twirl. "See? Too soon. You're aim would be more accurate if you hold off a second or so before releasing. And the blade would slice through the air better. It's catching too much resistance from the angle."

"You have gotta stop sneaking up on me Sarge. Unlike yourself, I'm too young for heart failure."

Bucky sends me a scowl and scoops up the rest of the knives from the target then makes his way over.

"Sweetheart, I may have some years under my belt, but I'm a fully and exceptionally functioning man." I look down to see the tip of a knife gliding up my stomach and to my throat, pausing to move a lock of hair behind my ear.

Suddenly sweaty I clear my throat and swipe a knife from his metal hand. "I'll take your word for it Buckaroo. Now you wanna show me how exceptionally you can teach?"

At that he steps behind me, chest pressed against my back, hard muscle very much evident under his tight shirt. His hand gliding down my arm softly until he wraps his fingers around mine, now holding the knife together.

His (very beefy) leg presses between my thighs, allowing his foot to hook around mine and reposition my leg.

Hell in a handbasket its fucking hot in here. Jeez. My heart is going wild and I know for a fact Bucky can hear it.

His breath ghosts along my neck as he murmurs low against my ear.

"You're quick and underestimated because of your size. Use that more to your advantage and strike like a little viper. Fast and deadly."

He guides my hand as if drawing the knife from my thigh holster, making my hips shift back against his. As our arms make a slow, practiced arc Buckys metal hand squeezes my hip telling me when to release the knife.

With another light squeeze he steps back and nods for me to continue.

This man will undoubtedly be a distraction in the field if I don't get it together.

With a sigh I drop to a knee only to pounce back up in a spin while drawing the blade, letting it sail through the air in complete silence, slicing through it only to come to a halt with a smack that echoed through the room. In the blink of an eye it went from my fingertips to the mannequins skull a good twenty yards away.

He really didn't need an ego boost but damn if he isn't talented.

"Better. Now let's see how you do hand to hand."

I was suddenly back to the mat with a very heavy soldier pinning my body down, knife pressing into the hollow of my throat.

I let out a soft grunt as piercing blue eyes filled with concealed torment and a hint of playfulness met my own. "Well this brings back memories... for me at least."

Using his confused pause as an advantage, I run my foot along the inner seam of his sweatpants as the other slips from between his to hook around his thigh.

A startled grunt escapes open lips and the knife moves a fraction as his hold loosens. With considerable effort I had the hulking soldier underneath my straddling hips, knife now running up his chest, small cuts appearing along his shirt.

Large hands rest on my thighs, squeezing with every dip of the blade as it runs along the ridges of concealed muscle.

"Dirty move Doll."

With a small shrug his shirt gets cut open completely. "It can get dirtier Sarge."

I shift against his hips and his hands clamp down hard, keeping my legs in place, most definitely leaving Bucky shaped bruises.

"Are we ever gonna have that conversation you promised? Cause I feel like I'm missing some important pieces to our story."

"Huh, I thought this was a training session, not a slumber party." With another squirm against his crotch he lets out a low growl and I hop up, tossing the knife into the floor by his head. "Come and get me Barnes."

With that I took off down the hallway, thundering footsteps quickly catching up with mine. Damn super soldier speed.

As his arm wrapped around my waist I let out a giggle and ducked underneath it, landing a blow to his stomach. Which did little more than make him let out a grunt of air as I dropped to swipe his legs from beneath him.

With a roll Bucky jumped back up and caught my arm, spinning me against the wall.

His thigh pressed between mine as his metal hand locked my arms above my head, our chests heaving together despite the minimal effort of the chase.

The forgotten blade appeared in his other hand, the sharp tip trailing down my arm, dipping along the collarbone. Buckys head tilted as my heart beat went double time, a small smirk appearing on his lips.

With a smooth flick of his wrist a bead of blood trailed down my throat, stopping between the swells of my breast, Buckys eyes following the slow path returning to mine darkened and razor focused.

With a glimpse to the lip I trapped between my teeth he cocks his head with a suspicious glare. “Bringing back more memories Sweetheart?”

“I don’t know, is it Sarge?”

Don’t get your hopes up. Don’t get your hopes up. Don’t get you-

Buckys hips press firmly into my own, his thick thigh shifting higher, now tight against the needy heat between my legs. A very noticeably large and stiff bulge pressed into my hip. How am I not on fire yet?

A small whimper escapes my lips as Bucky trails his mouth and nose along the length of my neck, beard scratching deliciously against heated skin. My hips bucked, wonderful friction meeting my clothed center, a moan escaping with a sigh as I repeated the action.

Bucky growled low in his throat as his hips snapped against mine, leg tensing against my soaked cunt. “I might not remember our past yet Doll, but I remember this feeling. Your warmth. First time I looked into those big blue eyes I knew you were gonna ruin me. Had no idea who you were, but fuck it all I knew you somehow.”

With a slight tug he released my arms, hands falling to my waist, tracing a path along my body.

I rested my palm against his heart, as the other cupped his cheek. Thumb tracing his red lips I looked into lust blown confused eyes. “Maybe one day you’ll remember our story, until then I’ll remember for the both of us.”

A rough thumb brushes over a hard nipple as his hips start to rock steadily into my own. A small moan escapes as my fingers tangle in Buckys thick hair. His mouth once again finding my neck, this time leaving hot kisses. His tongue traced along my ear, teeth nipping along the skin until he reached the spot on my neck that made me keen.

His lips kissed a smile into my skin as he sucked it into his mouth, leaving his mark on my body. My greedy hand began to make its way to the band of his sweats as he-

“Ms. Romanoff and Mr. Barnes, the team needs you in the conference room immediately.” Friday said from above us, damn near giving me a heart attack.

Cockblock. “Fucking hell.” I mutter as my head tilts back to rest against the wall, Buckys hot breath puffing against my chest from where his face is pressed into my shoulder. I run my fingers through his hair for a moment, relishing his warmth after so long being cold.

Bucky pressed a kiss to my collarbone as I clear my throat. “Well, duty calls soldier.”

As he backs away and releases my body, I rock onto my tiptoes and press a soft kiss to the corner of his mouth before swiftly walking to the conference room.

I’m almost certain these shorts are ruined. My sanity is not far off either.

[mygalfriday]

Things you always meant to say but never got the chance

Coaxed you into paradise and left you there 

{ao3}

Despite the many interruptions, he hopes he has actually managed to salvage the first night of their honeymoon. The unwelcome reminder – in the form of their future selves – of how finite their time together is has only made him more desperate to make this evening perfect. River deserves that and more.

She’d changed despite his insistence she never needed to, exchanging her prison uniform for something flouncy and flirtatious that makes his fingertips itch. She’s close enough to touch but he doesn’t, twirling his top hat between his hands and watching out of the corner of his eye as she helps herself to some more chips. The stars are set to appear any moment now and her gaze is pinned to the sky, waiting for the impressive show he’d promised her.

It’s a marked change from the woman who had been so determined to seduce him in the TARDIS and he fidgets anxiously, secretly wanting a bit of that back but unsure how to get them there. River has always been the instigator and he’s at a loss now that she’s so terribly young and it’s his turn to lead. He grips his hat in one hand and lifts the other to straighten his bowtie, inching a bit closer where they’ve settled on a massive tree branch.

Clearly still as alert to his every move as she’d been as Mels, River glances at him out of the corner of her eye the moment he so much as twitches in her direction. When she notices him hovering, she places a protective hand over her chips and says, “I told you to get your own, sweetie.”

He frowns. “First of all, River Song,” he says, wagging a finger at her and refusing to soften at the way her eyes light up when he uses her name. “I wasn’t trying to steal your chips. And second of all, are you telling me you wouldn’t share? On our honeymoon?”

She whirls to stare at him, blonde curls bouncing around her shoulders and her eyes wide. “Honeymoon?” She laughs once, strained and nervous. “We’re not married.”

He squints at her, fearing for a moment he’d picked up the wrong River. But no, he’d gotten her on her first night in prison – she’d said so herself. So she must have already done Area 52. “Of course we’re married.” He waves a hand, gesturing between them. “There was a bowtie and a kiss-”

River interrupts him in the middle of his kissy-face impression, still eyeing him incredulously. “Yes, where you were a robot. In a timeline that no longer exists. I’ll hardly hold you to it, Doctor.” She smiles when he merely stares at her, the expression somehow unbearably sad despite the softness in her eyes. “You think I didn’t notice in all my research of you how often you get married and swan off, never to see your poor lovestruck bride again?”

“I haven’t swanned off,” he points out, wounded despite the truth of her words. River is different. Surely she knows that. “I’m here now, aren’t I?”

“Of course you are.” She reaches out a hand, patting his bowtie fondly. “I’m the child of your best friends.”

He stares at her. “You think I married you out of guilt?”

“There are worse reasons to get married.” With a shrug, she turns back to the night sky spread out before them and her hand drops from his bowtie to reach for another chip. “But it wasn’t a real marriage, remember? You’re off the hook.”

“River,” he sighs, tugging at his hair. Why is she making him do this? Doesn’t she know he’s rubbish at this? “I don’t want to be off the hook. I want-” Blimey, what does he want? Twelve hundred years old and he still has no idea. He just knows that whatever this is – sitting here, bickering and pretending he doesn’t want any of her chips – he wants every last terrifying moment of it. With her. “I want -”

The sky lights up over their heads, brilliantly illuminated with the glow of a billion stars. It brightens their surroundings like sunlight. Ordinarily, this natural phenomenon wouldn’t be enough to distract him from the issue at hand but River tips up her face to stare at it like she’s never seen anything so wondrous. Her eyes widen and the most beautiful smile bursts to life on her face. It’s a thousand times more distracting than any star has ever been. The Doctor finds himself caught, gazing at her like a new Time Lord staring at his first planet.

Without looking away from the view above, River nudges the plate of chips toward him. A peace offering. The Doctor grins and ignores them, leaning in to press a smacking kiss to her cheek. She swats him, turning her head to seek out a proper snog. He sinks into her with a sigh, fingers finding her wild curls, and doesn’t stop to wonder why he feels like he’s forgotten to say something important.  

-

He knows what he feels. He has known what he feels for far longer than he’d ever admit to any version himself. He hasn’t said the words since he was a young man on Gallifrey, unburdened by loss and the weight of ages. He might have said them once or twice to Susan when she was a child. The point is, it has been so long that the words don’t even feel tangible anymore – nothing but brittle bones and dust taking up space at the base of his throat. He worries if he tries to say them now, nothing will escape but ash.

He isn’t stupid enough to do nothing and merely hope River understands through osmosis but those words aren’t enough. They’re imaginary and ephemeral, easily lost and forgotten in this wide, unknowable universe. So many days he and River will spend apart, separated by space and time – yearning across worlds. He wants River to remember, even when she forgets everything else. He wants River to have more than brittle words.

So he gives her memories. Big, flashy, unforgettable memories that could cast a giant neon sign across the universe in 50 foot capital letters. You. Are. Loved. Stevie Wonder sings it for her under London Bridge; mysteriously inspired poets pen her sonnets; da Vinci sketches her likeness in La Scapigliata. Sunflowers remind him of her and he scatters seeds all over the fields of Spain so every summer people flock there to admire her beauty; he goes back in time and leaves notes throughout history for her to find during her excavations; he takes lessons with Julia Child and Fernand Point so he can make all her favorite dishes. He makes love to her at the start of the universe and the end of it so their love is a bookend to the beginning and the end of everything.

He never asks her if she understands what he isn’t saying. Instead he smiles when she finds another of his surprises and drinks in her laugh when he spins her around another ballroom, hoping she sees it for what it is. Not a showy distraction from a magician, but the last precious coin from a penniless man. All he has to offer. Someday, he might dust off those meagre words humans so love to abuse and see if he can make them shine again – make them pretty enough to deserve her – but for now, surely all this is enough? It must be.

-

Despite her hesitance around them, children gravitate naturally towards River. He thinks it must be the hair. There is no other possible explanation for why they’re all gathered around her when he’s the one sitting by the bonfire introducing these people to the roasted marshmallow about ten thousand years too early. Considering himself a bit of an expert on the subject, he appoints himself the overseer of their technique, teaching the locals how to get the outside nice and crisp without making the insides a gooey mess.

Most of them are understandably fascinated but every time the Doctor looks up in search of his wife, he finds her sitting just to the left of all the excitement and surrounded by a group of tiny humans. A few of them sit at her feet, two sit on either side of her, one stands behind her poking curiously at her hair, and another seems to have made himself a nice comfy home on her lap. To her credit, River isn’t as horrified by all the attention as she used to be when she was younger.

She seems to be telling them all a story, judging by enraptured looks on their faces and the way River keeps leaning in close like she always does when imparting a secret. Unable to conceal his grin, the Doctor puts the nearest villager in charge of marshmallow roasting and slips away to investigate. As he gets closer, the soft murmur of River’s voice becomes clearer until he can make out exactly which story she’s regaling her audience with.

“And of course, because he’s a man he thinks he always knows exactly where he’s going but he never does. None of them do.” She offers them all an exasperated look, as though inviting them to commiserate with her on the hopelessness of men. Every single little girl in the group nods sagely. “Now, who do you think actually found the gemstone and restored the High Chancellor to his natural form?”

One of them ventures confidently, “You did!”

River beams. “And don’t you forget it.”

Shaking his head and biting back a smile, the Doctor folds his arms over his chest and attempts to look cross. “Just so we’re clear, I did know exactly where I was going, River Song. I was… testing you.”

She glances up, apparently unsurprised to find him eavesdropping. “And the part where you twisted your ankle in the mines and I had to carry you for five miles back to the TARDIS?” She smiles innocently. “Was that part of the test too?”

“Yes. No.” He scowls, dropping his arms to his sides. “Shut up. Dear.”

River grins and he leans in, bopping her fondly on the nose. She turns her head coyly away when he tries to kiss her, teasing, “Not in front of the children, honey.”

“Ah. Right.” He turns to their rapt audience, pasting on a nervous grin. “Oi you lot, you’re missing out on all the sweets.” He claps his hands together, watching them scramble to their feet. “Off your pop, before your parents eat them all.”

Only the little one on River’s lap refuses to budge, curled up there like he belongs. The Doctor sighs, giving up on stealing a kiss for the moment as he settles onto the log beside his wife. Elbows on his knees, he peeks at her through his fringe and confesses, “I wasn’t actually testing you.”

River spares him an exasperated glance, preoccupied with the toddler currently clinging to the front of her shirt. “I know, sweetie.”

“And the whole carrying me thing was a tiny bit…” He risks a glance at their tiny audience and whispers, “Sexy.”

She rolls her eyes. “I know, sweetie.”

“Right. Good.”

He thinks about offering to fetch her a marshmallow but the sight of her hesitantly dropping a hand to stroke the little tot’s hair from his forehead stops the Doctor in his tracks. Despite her reticence, she’s a natural with kids. She always knows what to do, even when she doesn’t seem to trust her own instincts. He’s sure her hesitance must come from her own unusual upbringing and the complete lack of parental figures who didn’t have an eyepatch and a villainous agenda but he finds himself wishing she would give herself more credit. She knows what kids need – even if only because they need the things no one ever gave her.

Elbowing her gently, he says, “You’re good with them.”

River scoffs, glancing away. “I’m really not.”

“Could have fooled me.” He shrugs, studying the boy with sleepy eyes still clinging to her. “He seems very fond of you.”

River glances down at the boy, biting her lip. “I probably just look like someone he knows.”

“Someone else with this hair?” He plucks at a curl fondly. “Impossible.”

River swats at him, adorably and uncharacteristically flushed. The Doctor chooses not to mention it, watching in silence the way she cradles the boy to her and bounces him a bit in her arms to nudge him gently to sleep. Not for the first time, he thinks she’d probably make a brilliant mother if she wanted to be. He wonders briefly if she does want it. Maybe she does and just hasn’t said anything. What if he brought it up? Would she want it, if he offered?

Could he offer?

No. Of course not. It’s a terrible idea. The universe would come after any child of the Doctor and River Song. It would hardly be fair to ask a tiny little being to carry the weight and hatred of an entire universe. Besides, their lives are hardly the right environment in which to raise a child – what with the running and the prison and the timey-wimey-ness of it all.

But… if River really wanted it he might consider it in spite of all that. He might even sort of fancy the idea. He can’t ever see himself sitting still long enough to have a proper family life but the image of a miniature version of him and River asking for bedtime stories and refusing to eat their vegetables and begging for another trip to the intergalactic zoo? With anyone else, the very notion would send him running far and fast but with River it’s… Well. He’s grown to like all sorts of things so long as River is involved.

“Matteo?”

The Doctor lifts his head, snapping back to the present just in time to watch a woman – the boy’s mother, probably – lift the sleeping tot out of River’s arms with a murmur of thanks. River nods stiffly, watching the woman cradle her baby and sway with him toward the warmth of the bonfire. The ache of her longing is clear in her eyes.

The Doctor swallows, wanting nothing but for that look to disappear. Wanting her to have everything it’s within his power to give her. “You know, we could-”

“Doctor? We’re out of marshmallows!”

He sighs. “I warned them about rationing.”

River turns to him with a smirk, oblivious to what he’d been about to offer. “I’ll fetch some more from the TARDIS.”

“Thanks, dear.” He finally steals that kiss he’d been after, smiling as she slips away. The courage to ask her what had been on his mind goes with her. He never finds the nerve to bring it up again.

-

After they lose her parents, River spends most of her time in her study writing the book that will start it all. He knows he isn’t strong enough to be of any assistance to her, far more apt to make suggestions like taking the manuscript and pitching it into a black hole, but he also knows River would likely rebuff any offers of help from him right now anyway. She’s avoiding him.

The Doctor can’t blame her. He’s hardly been desirable company in recent days. All these centuries knocking about the universe and he’s still that same selfish old man he’s always been, mourning the loss of his Ponds as though he’s the only one who has lost something. River deserves far better than a selfish mad man like him but apparently she isn’t going anywhere despite his many faults and foibles. It’s this strange, terrible combination of guilt and gratitude, contrition and devotion that finds him standing outside the door to her study holding a cup of tea and listening to the soft click of typewriter keys coming from within the room.

“River?”

Balancing the cup in the palm of one hand, he raps his knuckles softly against the door. The typing doesn’t even pause. He sighs, nudging the door open with his hip and peering inside. The hinges creak but River doesn’t glance up, typing away as though he hasn’t interrupted. Reluctant to intrude on her space without permission after all the things he has said and done recently, the Doctor hovers in the doorway and wraps his fingers around the warm ceramic of the mug he’d brought her.

“I made tea.”

Again, she doesn’t look up from her notes. Pencil between her teeth, she taps her fingers against the keys of her typewriter and says, “Thanks.”

Figuring this may well be the closest he’ll get to permission to approach, the Doctor shoves off the doorframe and picks his way across the floor – careful not to step on the crumpled wads of paper scattered everywhere that River must have tossed in various pits of pique. He settles the mug on the corner of her desk, within reach if she wants it but not so close she���ll accidentally knock it over with an elbow. His job done, he lingers beside her desk uncertainly. She hasn’t asked him to leave but she’s hardly rolled out the welcome mat either.

Squirming, the Doctor touches a fingertip to a stack of field journals and ventures hesitantly, “How’s it going?”

“Fine,” comes the short, clipped reply. “I’ll be done soon and then I’ll go.”

He lifts his head from scrutinizing the contents of her desk, frowning. “Go?”

“Hmm.”

River lifts her glasses from the top of her head, relocating them to the bridge of her nose. Usually the sight of her in them does funny things to his insides but today, he only feels a cold knot of dread beginning to tighten in the pit of his stomach. Why hadn’t he noticed how tired she looks? She isn’t dressed to impress anyone today, wearing a pair of leggings and one of Rory’s old jumpers. He thinks the fuzzy socks on her feet might have belonged to Amy once. Her wild curls are piled on top of her head but keep spilling over her forehead every time she bends to peer at her notes. There are new lines of weariness around her eyes and mouth, a dullness to her gaze he has never seen before. And she still hasn’t looked at him.

The Doctor swallows, inching closer. “Actually I wanted to ask if you were hungry. I could cook…” He brightens. “Or we could have dinner somewhere. Anywhere you like, Professor Song.”

She shakes her head. “I need to get this done.”

He scoffs. “There’s plenty of time to finish it-”

“Not if you want me out of your hair sooner rather than later.” She sighs when he goes still, staring at her in silence. Her eyes remain locked on her half-finished manuscript. “It has to be done now.”

Studying her clenched jaw and the tightly contained way she holds herself – so very still, as though the slightest wrong move might make something explode in her face – the Doctor begins to understand he might have buggered things up quite a bit more than he’d realized. “What makes you think I want you out of my hair?”

Despite her every attempt to appear unaffected, the words slip out with an incredulous huff of laughter. “You mean besides your every word and action in the last week?”

He flinches. “River, no. I didn’t mean-”

She sighs, the bitterness slipping away like it had never been. At times it alarms him how easily she forgives his transgressions. Taking off her glasses and letting them clatter to her desk, River pinches the bridge of her nose and closes her eyes for a moment. Gathering patience, though she probably thinks he doesn’t know what she’s doing. As if he doesn’t know all of her little tells by now, even the ones he pretends he doesn’t see.

“I know you didn’t,” she says, and the sound of her voice is more familiar to him now. Soft. Warm. Forgiving. He really doesn’t deserve her. She lifts her head and finally meets his worried gaze since the first time he walked into her study. The utter lack of light in her eyes scares the hell out of him. “But it’s clear you need space. So I’ll finish the manuscript and I’ll go.”

“Stay,” he insists, bracing himself with his hands against the edge of her desk. He leans in toward her, forcing a smile. “We’ll pay Vastra and Jenny a visit. Or we’ll go to Egypt and see how the pyramids are coming along, eh? Get married again while we’re there – how’s that?”

“Doctor,” she begins, and he hates it when she says his name like that. It sounds like no. “I’m not going to stay just because you don’t want to be alone.”

He pushes off her desk with a low growl. “That’s not what this is.”

“Isn’t it?” The amount of resignation in her patient voice is maddening. “It’s alright, honey. We’ll go our separate ways for a while and I’ll pop round to see how you’re faring after I get back.”

“Back?” Pacing to her bookshelves across the room and preparing to pout a bit and possibly make childish comments about the amount of archeology texts she owns, the Doctor scowls and prods irritably at a scroll wedged between suspiciously authentic looking manuscripts of Macbeth and The Importance of Being Earnest – stolen, no doubt. “Back from where?”

Already sliding her glasses back on and returning her attention to her notes, River mutters absently, “I got an invitation to lead the first expedition to the Library planet. Thought I might go – get my mind off things.”

The Doctor goes cold. That slowly growing and widening knot of dread in the pit of his stomach yawns open like a black hole. He grips the edge of a bookshelf until his knuckles turn white and the wood begins to creak beneath his fingers, threatening to splinter. With his back turned to her, River doesn’t see the way the blood drains away from his face. The way his mouth can only silently form no over and over again until it doesn’t even feel like a real word anymore. It screams in his head anyway, blaring like a siren until it loses some of its power with repetition and he feels just as helpless as he had the day he watched her die.

No.

Not yet.

He just watched an ending unfold right before his eyes. He cannot – will not – do it again. He will not lose another precious person to this goddamned thief called Time. The pain of losing the Ponds is still raw and fresh in his mind, reminders of them at every turn and memories lurking like ghosts out of the corner of his eye. It hurts now; and it always will. He has lost companions before. It always feels like this; like being ripped open and left to bleed out. It heals eventually, despite all his best intentions to cling to his grief. Another scar to bear in his long, lonely life.

But this, he knows, would break him.

“Don’t pout, sweetie,” she says, mistaking his silence for something else. Still typing away like she hasn’t destroyed his whole world. “Far better we have some time to ourselves than stay together and say more things we don’t mean.”

He won’t lose her. The only solution is to change it. The Doctor lifts his head, resolve slipping down his spine like cold steel. Not one line echoes in his head but he pushes it away with a grim smile. “I meant them.”

The typing stops. “What?”

“What I said when we lost Amy.” He doesn’t turn to look at her yet, struggling to school his features into something expressionless and cold – the mighty Time Lord instead of the devastated husband. It’s easier when he can’t see the look on her face. “If you hadn’t told her to go -”

River’s voice grows brittle. “She’d be here and miserable without my father.”

“She’d be here.” Clenching his jaw, the Doctor forces himself to turn from the bookshelf and face her properly. River sits utterly still at her desk, staring at him like he’s a particularly bad dream she’s waiting to wake up from. “And that’s really what it comes down to in the end, wife. If not for you, my Amelia would still be here.”

In the silence of the room, he can hear the hitch in River’s breath.

He directs his gaze elsewhere before he can see her eyes begin to water, glaring at a spot in the carpet instead. His hands tremble and he clenches them into fists, forcing the words out around the lump in his throat. “How can you expect me to look at you, knowing you’re the reason we lost them both? If you’d been quicker or cleverer or just… more. I expected better of you.” He stops when he sees her flinch out of the corner of his eye, unable to bear hurting her for another second with such poisonous lies. His eyes begin to burn and he snaps out, “I can’t wait for you to finish the manuscript. Go now. And take your bloody book with you.”

He stalks from the room before she can say a word and he doesn’t dare look at her as he leaves, knowing the moment he sees her face he’ll drop to his knees and beg forgiveness. So he walks and he walks until his vision blurs and the TARDIS opens a door, letting him stumble into a room at the end of the corridor.

Their bedroom. Of course.

With a growl, the Doctor picks up the nearest thing to hand – one of River’s high heels – and hurls it at the wall. It cracks the plaster and he stares at the split along the wall, his chest heaving and his eyes burning. In the ensuing silence, there is only the rasp of his shaky breathing and the sound of River’s footsteps as she leaves.

-

It’s only standing in his tomb with her ghost in front of him that he understands he had certainly changed things that day in the TARDIS – just not how he’d hoped. River still went to the Library; she still died in his place and wound up trapped in the data core. The only thing he had changed was letting her die believing he blamed her. Believing he didn’t love her.

Cradling her face in his hands, he looks into her eyes and realizes this may very well be his last chance to tell her all the things he’d never had the chance to say to her before. So many of those things seem pointless now. What does it matter that he’d always considered Area 52 their wedding day or that he would have given her children if she’d only asked? What does it matter if he never once blamed her for what happened to her parents or that he loves her so much he chokes on the words every time he tries to say them? It’s too late for any of it to matter now.

She’s gone and he’s looking at an echo.

River doesn’t ask him to say any of those things anyway. She wants something far more difficult to give. A goodbye.

“Say it like you’re going to come back.”

And it’s this – the thing he wants desperately to refuse to ever say – that he doesn’t have the hearts to deny her. Mouth full of lost opportunities and a lifetime of regrets, the Doctor swallows it all back with a smile. “See around, Professor River Song.”

[boldlyvoid]

Amoreena | Chapter Nine

chapter nine

main summary: Heaven is a real place and it's located exactly 14.6 miles away from the FBI, Quantico Headquarters. Off behind a small park, under a fantastical willow tree surrounded by wildflowers, in every colour young minds can imagine.

Don't forget, heaven also comes with angels.

Chapter Warnings: date night!! this is very fluffy, very emotional and extremely horny. edgar allan poe is rolling in his grave at what they did in his enchanted garden

exhibitionism, public sex (no ones there tho), drug mentions at the end (let me know if I should tag anything else!!!!)

word count: 5.4k

from the beginning <3

He spent all of Thursday afternoon with Penelope in Richmond, setting up for his date that night.

Stringing lights on the trees, mowing the grass and trimming the flowers back, the staff ensuring that the museum was in pristine condition for them tonight, it was perfect. The cats were brushed, there were rose petals the fountain and the most beautiful picnic set up in the garden.

Penelope packed their dinner for them, keeping it in the museum fridge for when they finally arrived, it was the only thing Spencer needed to remember.

Y/N: just got home, about to get ready! Can’t wait to see you at 6 ♥︎

Spencer smiled at his phone, about to text her back when Penelope laid a hand on his back, “change into your suit and head back to her, traffic might be bad?”

“Thank you, for everything. You’ve always been my best friend, more of big sister actually,” Spencer pressed his lips together tightly as to not get emotional. “You’re wonderful Penelope, thank you.”

“Awe!” She swooned, wrapping him up in a big hug. “I will always love you, Spencer, you deserve all of this and so, so much more, now go before I cry.”

He laughed, pulling back, hand lingering on her shoulder as he walked into the museum. They let him change in the backroom, it felt incredibly strange to be putting on a suit inside Edgar Allan Poe's house to go pick up his wife. Not too long ago he dreamed about bringing a girlfriend here someday, life was moving too quickly, he needed a breather.

He kept his suit jacket folded and on the passenger seat as he drove home, where he lived with his family. Even just thinking that as he paid attention to the road made him smile. The wind hitting his face, his hair blowing in the breeze, he felt free at last.

He was where he was supposed to be, all roads lead to here.

Travelling up her driveway with a smile on his face as the dust followed him to her doorstep. She was waiting in a red dress on the porch, Amoreena and her nanny eating pizza on the steps as they waited for him.

Stepping out of his car, he straightened his tie and pulled his pants up more, looking at his wife like she was a star plucked from the sky, landing in this Virginia field for him.

She stood then, her satin dress flowing and exposing a leg as she walked down the steps to him, “Is this what you wanted?” She twirled in front of him to show it all off, her hair getting stuck in her lipstick and making her laugh.

“I love you,” is all he can say as she leaning in with a wide grin, surpassing the smile to kiss him gently, using her thumb to get all the lipstick off his bottom lip and chin.

“Love you too, cutie,” she winked, taking his hand and turning back towards Amoreena, “listen to Nanny, remember we love you and we will see you no earlier than 7:30 tomorrow, okay?”

“Yes ma’am!” She saluted, mouth full of pizza.

“And what are the new rules about coming into our bed in the morning?”

“Knock first, wait till you respond, don’t come in unless you say it’s okay,” Amoreena replied, sticking her tongue out at her as she remembered it all.

“Smartie pants,” Y/N smiled at her, “come give us a hug, don’t get pizza on my dress, please.”

Amoreena wiped her sleeve over her mouth before running into her mother's open arms, they shared goodbye kisses before it was Spencer’s turn. She held him so tight it felt wonderful, “goodnight Lovey, I’ll see you tomorrow morning, have the best sleep ever for me?”

“I’ll see you in dreamland,” she replied, kissing his cheek gently before she pulled back.

“Have fun!” Nanny called from the porch as Amoreena skipped back to her.

“We will,” Spencer replied, taking Y/N’s hand and leading her to the passenger side, he opened her door and helped her inside, insuring her dress was inside before closing the door.

Jogging back to his door, he got in and put on his seatbelt. He threw the car in reverse and turned around by the barn, heading down the driveway, not saying a single thing as Y/N stared at him.

“You’re really not going to tell me anything?” She shook her head, licking her lip before biting it as she huffed.

“We’re going to Richmond, Virginia, to read,” he gave her one hint.

“Hmm,” she smiled, “I’m sure you won't tell me the title, so Mr. I can remember every book ever, what’s a random line in it?”

“You’re smart,” he teased her, “but for the brilliant green of the huge leaves that spread from their summits in long, tremulous lines, dallying with the Zephyrs—”

“We’re going to the Edgar Allan Poe Museum!” She cut him off with a cheer.

He slows down on the barren dirt road, mouth wide open as she got it right, he turns to her as they come to a complete stop, “how the heck did you get that?”

“Yes!” she laughed, tossing her head back as she clapped and kicked her feet a little, so proud of herself, “I’m a librarian, Spencer! Did you think I wouldn’t know Eleonora?”

“That’s the most random sentence in the whole poem?” Spencer was shocked, she recalled it faster than he thought he would be able to if she read a line to him.

“My brother’s first motorcycle was a Zephyr,” she smiled at him, raising her eyebrows. “My brain is kinda like a filing cabinet, if you give me a word I can remember everything I’ve ever heard with that word included.”

He started to drive again, shaking his head as he paid attention to the road but still astounded by how amazing she is. “Amoreena gets that from you then, she could have both our eidetic memories together, that would be very interesting to see.”

“Eidetic memory?” She questioned.

“It’s what most people call photographic memory,” Spencer explained. “You can remember everything you hear which is why you and Amoreena are able to recall songs, books and movie facts so fast, while I can read back to you anything I’ve read without having to see it again, it’s forever in my mind.”

“So we’re both geniuses, cool,” Y/N smiled at him again, “sorry I ruined your surprise.”

“You just know where we’re going,” he reminded her, laying his hand on hers, interlocking their fingers as he drove.

They had an hour alone before the real date started.

So she showed him all of her favourite songs, including some of Amoreena’s playlists so he could get familiar with them before their trip to Rhode Island. Her voice was impeccable, she knew all the words and harmonies, often opting to cove background voices he wouldn’t have even known were there if it wasn’t for her.

She loved music in a way that intrigued him, she enjoyed music with a story. Much like the reason she loved books so much, she enjoyed picturing the happy places in her mind that the songs were able to take her to, they filled her with glee and hope as she sang to her heart's content. Taking short breaks to explain the meanings of songs, to recite the best lyrics and why the songs are close to her heart.

“Do you want to hear the song that reminds me the most of you?” She asked between songs, pausing so that nothing else would start.

“Sure,” he blushed, nervous for what it could be and how she imagined him in her mind, hoping he could live up to it.

“I'm perfectly fine I live on my own, I made up on my mind, I'm better off bein' alone. We met a few weeks ago, now you try on callin' me, baby, like tryin' on clothes,”

She stares at him with a beautiful smile as she waits to see his reaction to the opening, finally singing when the beat drops, dancing softly in her seat as she belted the words out to him.

“So prove to me I'm your American Queen, and you move to me like I'm a Motown beat, and we rule the kingdom inside my room,” She brushed her hand across his jaw, teasing him as the words flow from her lips to his ears, she loves him and he can feel it with every syllable.

“And all at once, you are the one I have been waiting for, King of my heart, body and soul, ooh whoa! And all at once, you are all I want, I'll never let you go King of my heart, body and soul, ooh whoa,” she sings so softly, with a purpose, turning it down a little so that he can talk to her.

“I love you,” he reminded her, “so much it hurts sometimes.”

“It’s like your heartstrings are tugging on each other, right?” She agreed, “like they want to jump out of our chests and run to each other.”

He nodded with a soft smile, reaching for her hand again holding it as he brought it to his mouth for a kiss, “queen of my heart.”

“Hmmm,” she thought over his words, “I’m pretty content with being princess still, Lady Amoreena is in line for the thrown, it’s part of her namesake after all.”

“Does the kingdom have a name?”

“You know the Elton John song Goodbye Yellow Brick Road?” She waited for his nod, “my grandma called it Ozellous so it’s like wizard of Oz but I added the 'ellous' because people always said they were jealous of our farm.”

He’s trying his best to keep his eyes on the road when all he want’s to do is look at her smile, to see her pupil change as she recalls the loving memory, it’s his favourite thing to do. Better than any movie or play, seeing her face was better than looking at the most expensive art piece. He was so in love with all of her.

“Were you like Amoreena as a kid?”

“Oh yeah,” she laughed, “bullied hardcore for it too, kids always told me to shut up cause I’d add facts to conversations I wasn’t a part of.”

“I would have loved to listen,” Spencer replied softly, knowing the feeling all too well.

They were only a few minutes away now, turning into the small town and passing quaint little homes and cottages. “Amoreena would love this drive, these are some interesting townspeople homes for her imagination, we should come back sometime this summer.”

His heart was going to actually explode, she was everything he never knew he needed.

“I’d love that,” he added as they pulled into the museum. “I’m a museum member and I’m a patron, so sometimes I donate rare pieces I find, they love me here.”

Her mouth opened to speak, but her eyes got caught on the twinkling lights in the distance, mesmerized by everything. Old cobblestone streets, brick buildings and wooden gates, it was straight out of the 1800s and absolutely fantastical.

“And it’s all ours for the night,” he put the car in park and turned to her, ��wait here?”

She nodded, speechless as she continued to look out the window at everything. Spencer got out of the car, opening the back seat to grab and put on his jacket, straighten out his suit before opening her door and extending a hand to help her out.

“Princess,” he extended his arm for her to tuck her own under, he closed her door and escorted her through the gate and towards the garden.

The sun was just starting to set, 7 pm in early June being the most beautiful time of year in rural Virginia, the sky was a perfect purple as he leads her through the stone arches towards the picnic.

Her eyes sparkled with all the lights, wide and pupils blown as she took it all in. It was a fairytale, she was in a princess dress, he was the king of her heart and this was just the beginning of happily ever after.

“Spencer, whatever your middle name is, Reid,” she gasped, swatting his arm lightly with a smile growing on her face.

“It’s Walter,” he smiled right back.

He let go of her hand then and walked over to a table, turning on the record player and dropping the needle in the right spot. He did his research into some Taylor Swift songs, finding one that reminded him the most of Y/N and how much he loved her.

“May I have this dance?” He asks as she notices the all too familiar guitar strumming.

He reaches a hand out for her, pulling her in as she takes it, “I was so so lost before I found you in the park,” he explains the first verse, barely a whisper beside her ear as they start to sway.

There I was again tonight forcing laughter, faking smiles Same old tired, lonely place Walls of insincerity Shifting eyes and vacancy, vanished when I saw your face

“All I can say is it was enchanting to meet you,” he whispers once more, feeling the goosebumps bursting on her bare arms.

He spun her around, extending both their arms as she twirled out and then back into his embrace again with a giggle. She swayed back and forth, dancing with him like the night they got married in her field.

Your eyes whispered "have we met?" Across the room your silhouette starts to make it's way to me The playful conversation starts Counter all your quick remarks, like passing notes in secrecy

“And it was enchanting to meet you, All I can say is I was enchanted to meet you,” he sings them this time, spinning her out again as the chorus hits, her eyes widening as she began to smile wider than he’s ever seen before.

They sang the words together as they danced, smiling and laughing as they moved around the cobblestone. Finding a rhythm so perfect, so them, it was silly and not on beat in the slightest, mostly spinning, it was a spinning song if the album cover was any indication.

This night is sparkling, don't you let it go I'm wonderstruck, blushing all the way home I'll spend forever wondering if you knew I was enchanted to meet you!

“The lingering question kept me up, Two a.m., who do you love? I wonder till I'm wide awake! Now I'm pacing back and forth, wishing you were at my door, I'd open up and you would say, hey! It was enchanting to meet you, all I know is I was enchanted to meet you,” Y/N’s voice softer than ever as she sang her anxieties into his ear, remembering the day at the museum where she wondered if she could have him all to herself.

This night is sparkling, don't you let it go I'm wonderstruck, blushing all the way home I'll spend forever wondering if you knew This night is flawless, don't you let it go I'm wonderstruck, dancing around all alone I'll spend forever wondering if you knew I was enchanted to meet you

Spinning around in circles she leaves his grasp, dress circling in the wind and he watches her. She takes both his hands and spins around with him in a tight circle before pulling back in, their chests bumping as they laughed, happier than he’s ever been in his entire life, and she’s made him pretty happy in the last few weeks.

The girl of his dreams, dancing around him with a smile like she was making her own music video. This was a dream of hers he didn’t know, making it come true as it became a dream of his own.

He places his hands on her cheeks as he stares into her eyes, “this is me praying that this was the very first page, not where the storyline ends. My thoughts will echo your name until I see you again. These are the words I held back, as I was leaving too soon, I was enchanted to meet you,” he whisper’s the words, barely singing, more talking.

“Please don't be in love with someone else. Please don't have somebody waiting on you. Please don't be in love with someone else. Please don't have somebody waiting on you,” she sings right back to him, staring into his eyes as they stand still in the garden.

She pulls him into a kiss, breathing in deeply through her nose as they hold each other’s cheeks, unable to get closer as they kissed. Pulling away with a loud smooch sound, smiling before taking her hands in his, once more.

Spinning her around again as the beat drops once more, her smile more beautiful than the first time he saw it. He was so madly in love, he firmly believed he was in heaven.

This night is sparkling, don't you let it go I'm wonderstruck, blushing all the way home I'll spend forever wondering if you knew!!

This night is flawless, don't you let it go I'm wonderstruck, dancing around all alone I'll spend forever wondering if you knew I was enchanted to meet you!

Please don't be in love with someone else Please don't have somebody waiting on you

“Now go stand in the corner and think about what you did,” Taylor Swift's voice cuts into the beautiful moment as her songs change and the mood drastically changes.

Y/N bursts out in laughter, jumping lightly as she enjoyed the song, head-banging along as she danced by herself until Spencer turned the music off once again, “you’re so cute.”

“Thank you,” she bowed, “this is cute!”

“There’s a picnic basket in the fridge inside, and some wine if you think that’s a good idea?” Pointing towards the main house, she followed him towards the door.

“Oh, hello?” Her voice changed as she noticed the two black cats on the window, letting Spencer head inside for the basket as she talked to them.

“That’s Edgar and Pluto, the groundskeeper found them in the shed in 2012,” Spencer explains as he comes back out, basket in hand but she’s too busy with the cats to notice.

Petting both their faces, they stretch into her reach and bask in the feeling of her nails on their skin, Spencer would agree it felt nice. He loved the feeling of her hands in his hair, he must have been a cat in his last life.

“Amoreena wants her own indoor cat,” Y/N smiled wide at him, “she always wanted to call him Hercules like the Elton John song, almost like she knew you were her dad all along.”

She took his free hand then, following him towards the blanket in the grass, “how?”

“There’s a line in the song about Greek gods, but it says Hercules on her side and Diana in her eyes, and she does have your mom's eyes, right down to the colour of her iris,” Y/N looked at him like he was everything to her.

Spencer couldn’t speak, he just set the basket on the ground and ushered her to sit down beside him. She held the skirt of her dress up so she could sit crisscross applesauce on the blanket, draping her dress over her legs so she didn’t show anything off just yet.

“Every time I look at you I understand all her quirks and her facial expressions,” she added like she was trying to make him cry, “I’ve been looking at her for almost 8 years now, wondering who you were and now I know, and you’re so much better than I ever imagined.”

“Would you have looked for me when she turned 18?” Is all he can ask through his sniffles, trying to hold it together for her.

She nodded, “I was going to tell her soon anyway, she asks a lot of questions I’m not sure if you noticed.” Her giggle was priceless, “she had lots of questions when the goats were born this year and that meant her asking more about making human babies and I just said a special man helped me make my dreams come true, and she thought it was Rumpelstiltskin.”

Spencer couldn’t fight the laugh that erupted from him, leaning forward as he chuckled, making her laugh too. “Does she even know the whole story?”

“She’s only seen the 4th Shrek movie with him, she has no idea that he also takes the babies,” Y/N placed her hand on his knee gently, “If I get pregnant again, I’m going to tell her about how it all works as simply as possible, I want her to feel included in this and she’ll be less jealous if she sees this as a learning opportunity.”

“That’s a good idea,” he agreed, “I still can't believe she almost punched Michael for hugging me.”

“Oh, I can,” Y/N laughed again, “she was being bullied last year by an older kid and I said if someone upsets you or hurts you, sometimes it’s not that bad to hurt them back. Make them know you’re not weak and you care about yourself, and she gave a kid a black eye for tugging on her braid.”

Spencer couldn’t stop smiling, “that’s my girl.”

Y/N opened the picnic basket then, taking everything out with a smile as Spencer stared at her, thinking a million different thoughts about future kids, how Amoreena would grow up, seeing her as a big sister to hopefully many.

They both leaned forward and kissed softly, smiling as they pulled back, “so you like charcuterie?”

She laughed, “Amoreena called it shark coochie once, I can’t not think of that now.”

“How many kids do you want?”

“Have you ever read cheaper by the dozen?” She teased him. “As many as I can have, I have the funds thanks to my job and the farm and not having to pay a mortgage, I was going to have another baby next year anyway, I had an appointment and everything scheduled, I even tried to get them to contact Amoreena’s father for another sample but they said they couldn’t ask you outright for me.”

“They asked me if I wanted to give another sample when I asked if I could know my kids,” Spencer remembered the words exactly, “she said ‘You have four offspring so far, none of the other samples used have produced a child, the women were all IVF as well so it wasn’t your swimmer's fault if you wanted to donate again.’”

“I don’t want to know the truth, are you okay if we let her decide if she wants to find out at 18?” Y/N asked softly, “I’m content thinking you’re her father, I don’t want to know if it’s some other tall who-lookin’ genius, okay?”

“That’s perfect actually,” Spencer agreed, “and on the kids front, you don’t mind me being in my 70s when they all start going to University?”

“My dad is 68 with no signs of stopping, and he’s still fantastic with his grandkids,” Y/N always had a fact to combat his anxiety. “You have a lot of life left in you, I’ll take good care of you so that they have the best dad ever for as long as possible.”

Spencer was so in love with his family he felt like he was floating, laughing and smiling all meal long as they shared facts back and forth about their lives. Getting to know each other more and more as the seconds passed, he imagined it would be like this forever. She was like a bottomless pit of information, facts, stories and secrets. He loved every single one she shared with him.

She poured herself a second small glass of wine, “you know they say that one glass of wine every once in a while is actually good for the baby?”

“It doesn’t work that fast,” he reminded her, more like he reminded himself. He didn’t want to hope in the chance it didn’t happen right away.

“I had a nightmare last night for the first time in a long time, so I think it worked,” she teased him. “I won't know till June 10th, that's when my next period would be.”

“Nightmare?” It was the only part he picked up on, worried for her and wondering why she didn’t wake him up.

She nodded softly, “I found out I was pregnant and you never came home, and I got lost in the forest looking for you and then I remembered I could wake up.”

He rests his hand on her knee, rubbing his thumb against her bare skin softly, “I’m always coming home to you.”

“I know, when I got pregnant with Amoreena I had bad dreams in the first few weeks too, mostly about giving birth to nothing and being alone all over again, the subconscious and pregnancy hormones are mean as fuck when they hang out,” she laughed away the pain, “I know none of it is real.”

“Good,” he whispered, not knowing what really to say, he wasn’t used to soothing other people yet. Most people didn’t want his facts or concernment when something happened, just a hug normally.

She took a deep breath, pushing everything away, “good news, either my anxiety disorder is back in full swing or something’s working in here,” she laid her hand over her stomach, “either way, I’d like to try again tonight?”

He laughed, “we don’t need to make a baby every time you want to have sex?”

She got onto her knees then, crawling over the blanket and sitting right in Spencer's lap with her hands on both of his cheeks, “I want all your babies.”

He held her waist, pulling her in closer to his chest, “right now?”

She nodded, moving her dress out of the way to undo his belt, “no one is here right? It’s not like anyone would know?”

“Mhmm,” he agreed, kissing her neck as she unzipped his pants, moving his underwear out of the way just enough to free his hardening cock, she stroked it right there in the middle of the garden, staring down between their bodies in awe as he came to life.

Sitting up on her knees more, the slit of her dress made it a lot easier for her to show him her underwear. She was wearing just a thong, perfect for pulling to the side as she lowered herself onto him, ever so slowly.

She fixed her dress around them, completely calm and composed as he was fully inside of her, “you’re okay with this?”

He huffed a laugh out of his nose, dropping his forehead to her shoulder so he couldn’t buck into her and ruin the moment she was making, his hands moving to her hips, guiding her back and off him slightly before back down again, making her gasp.

“I thought you wanted to read?” She teased him as she started to ride him more, moving her hips in a way that took him in and out of her at just the right angle, her hands on his shoulders as she bounced on him lightly, he couldn’t even think straight. “Go on, read to me.”

He took a second to remember the words, mind totally somewhere else and not interested in a book at all when her boobs were right in his face.

“I am come of a race noted for vigor of fancy and ardor of passion,” the first sentence slipped past his lips as she kept going, he took a moment to kiss right under her ear before continuing.

“Men have called me mad; but the question is not yet settled, whether madness is or is not the loftiest intelligence—whether much that is glorious—whether all that is profound—does not spring from disease of thought—from moods of mind exalted at the expense of the general intellect.”

“Shit,” she moaned, pushing his hand down towards her clit, “you can multitask, smartie pants.”

His thumb was on a mission then, rubbing small circles against her pleasure point, she tossed her head back with her eyes closed as she continued to ride him, “I don’t hear you reading?”

He moaned softly in her ear at the feeling, and the fact she wanted to get off to hearing him recite something from memory, it was more euphoric than he could have ever imagined.

“They who dream by day are cognizant of many things which escape those who dream only by night. In their gray visions they obtain glimpses of eternity, and thrill, in ah- awakening, fuck,” he was trying his best to stay as composed as she was when he really just wanted to lay her against the blanket and fuck her into next week.

“to find that they have been upon the verge of the great secret,” Y/N whispered the end of the sentence, grinding down on him harder than before.

“In snatches, they learn something of the wisdom which is of good,” she whispered into his ear, biting his earlobe softly with a moan and he kept rubbing her clit, “you’re so good, Spencer, so so good," she paused to enjoy the moment before whispering in his ear once more, "And more of the mere knowledge which is of evil. They penetrate, however, rudderless or compass-less into the vast ocean of the "light ineffable," and again, like the adventures of the Nubian geographer, "agressi sunt mare tenebrarum, quid in eo esset exploraturi.”

Her words softer than ever and they were never going to get to the end of this poem, he'd never know how the rest of the words sound on her tongue, she pulled him into a kiss then, moaning into his mouth as they ground against each other, finding a perfect rhythm to bring them to the end.

“There, yes, fuck,” she whispered against his lips, pushing against him as she arched her back slightly, slipping away from his mouth as she did so.

He slammed into her then as he chased her lips, making her whimper one last time before she was shaking in his lap, her legs quivering as she finished on him, sending him over the edge and stilling as he came with a shudder. He held her so close, both of them breathing into each other's mouths as they came down, kissing and smiling as they stayed connected.

“We’ll name her Eleonora,” Y/N teased, pulling off him and laying back against the blanket.

He made sure her underwear was back in the right spot before covering her with her dress again and sliding himself back into his underwear.

“Amoreena and Eleonora have a good ring to it, we just need 10 more names,” he teased right back.

“Hopefully we have a little boy one day too,” she smiled as she tugged him down beside her, cuddling into her side as they stared up at the newly dark blue sky and the array of stars that decided to join them this evening.

“Even if it’s just Amoreena, I’ve never been happier in my whole life than when I’m with you,” he whispered. “Thank you.”

“For what?” She asked, purely to keep hearing his voice.

“Making me want to get up in the morning again, giving me a reason not to buy drugs for something euphoric to happen to me, showing me real love and proof that happiness is possible if you just chose to be happy,” he gave example after example.

“I thought I learned everything the world had to offer, but you’ve been showing me new little life hacks that make the world so much better, I see a future of bright colours and happiness and laughter for the first time ever, so thank you.”

She held him closer, “it’s been a pleasure falling in love with you, together, you deserve to love yourself. You’re so wonderful Spencer, it breaks my heart to know that anyone has ever made you feel the opposite.”

He couldn’t speak anymore, turning to kiss her neck and cheek so he had something to do that wasn’t crying. He loved her so incredibly deeply that he felt like he was an anchor, dropping to the bottom of her deepest ocean, without a single plan to leave.

tag list: @shemarmooresfedora @spencers-dria @spookyspence @reidsfish @manuosorioh @mochionly @samuel-de-champagne-problems @jswessie187

[peaxhcringe]

Sunflower

pairing: Oikawa x Fem! Reader

genre: fluff, angst

warnings: n/a

word count: 2.5K

summary: Running out into the rain after an argument with Oikawa, only to end up in the park remembering the past. 

A/N: I once again apologize if this is bad, I am very tired and wanted to hurry up and get this out. Anyways enjoy!

~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~

You don’t know how it came to this. The rain hailing down against your shoulders soaking your already thin shirt, and with tears falling down your face. Your e/c eyes were closed tightly, the pounding of the rain and the sound of thunder rumbling in the distance filling your ears as you ran along the sidewalk, rain splashing up from small puddles to the bottom of your leggings soaking them. Your brain was fuzzy as your thoughts swirled like a whirlpool, everything becoming muddled together into indescribable pieces of memory. The wind blew harshly onto the exposed skin of your arms, goosebumps rising painfully onto your skin as you tried to rush for cover. The events of earlier were all jumbled, nothing making sense on how it came to this moreover what even caused this. 

A sigh of relief crossed over you as finally saw an escape from the hailing rain, rushing over to a nearby wooden canopy. The rain was so thick you couldn’t really tell where you were, almost not allowing you to see more than 6 feet in front of you. Just as you made it underneath the dry canopy a sigh of relief lef your mouth as you finally sat down on a bench, letting you catch your breath from running for so long. Your moment of relief is rudely cut short as you hear  the voice of the last person you want see fill your ears 

“Y/n!” 

“God damnit Y/n, I’m sorry!”

“Y/n just come back before you get sick!” 

Tears threatened to fill your eyes as you took in his voice, hearing as it came closer to where you sat. Your body began to slowly shake as you took in the soaked clothes that rested against your skin.   

“Y/n Whe- Y/n! there you are!” Oikawa’s voice rang in your ears, making your head shot up to see his drenched figure, his hair falling into his face as the rain poured down on him just as hard 

“Go away” You said, not bothering to make eye contact with him “Just leave me alone, and go back to your ‘studying’” You continued, crossing your arms, letting your head rest back against the wall of canopy 

Without another word Oikawa silently made his way over to you, sitting down next to you on the bench, letting his hands rest in his lap. There was silence between the both of you as neither of you wanted to be the first to speak, the tension growing thicker the silence lasted. A small chuckled filled the silence, a scowl crossing your face as you heard the laugh, your head quickly turning an staring at the brown haired man 

“What the hell are you laughing at?!” You growled, glaring at him, your hands turning into fist as you took in his appearance further. 

His head was tilted upwards towards the sky, his brown eyes closed, as he took in a deep breath. A simple smile was etched into his face, as a soft breeze blew letting a couple strands of his semi-dried hair dance around, a couple pieces just grazing against his forehead. If you were being honest with yourself, although he was a dick his side profile was rather breathtaking. Even though the tension between you two was quite heavy, his posture was amazingly relaxed, his chest rising and falling like normal and his hands resting casually against the bench as he leaned back onto the wall of the canopy. The more you took in his stance the angrier you got with him, not knowing how or why he was so calm after everything that happened. 

“Do you know where we are?” He asks simply, breaking the thick silence, not moving an inch as he took in a deep breath of the rainy atmosphere

Your eyebrows raised in my confusion, lifting a hand about to hit him, as your mouth opened to scold him until he spoke again 

“Just take a good look around”

You closed your mouth, letting your raised hand fall into your lap as you turned your head and took in where you were. When you first arrived in this place your vision was blurred by the heavy rain and dark clouds, but now as the rain began to fall into a soft drizzle and the sky opened up to allow the sun to shine through you finally took in your surroundings. Beautiful dark green grass covered the landscape for miles, a simple sidewalk weaving its way past a field of trees, and the sun now shining, glowed upon a small patch of sunflowers that rested upon a nearby hill. 

Your body seemed to almost relax at the sight, watching as a couple birds flew past and landed in the grass searching for worms and things to build their nest for the upcoming spring. That was until you heard the man sitting next to you clear his throat, the anger that was finally leaving your body returned instantly, your blood beginning to boil once again 

“We’re in a park! So what?” You asked, turning your head back towards him, noticing how his head was now titled down towards you the sun shining down against his face 

“You really don’t remember?” He asks, a sense of hurt hidden within his voice 

Your eyes rake over his face, taking in his stoic expression trying your best to figure out what he meant. 

“Has it really been that long?” You hear him mumble to himself, his eyes taking a second to shift away from you and look down at the grass 

“Y/n” Oikawa begins, his gaze now repositioned back upon your figure, taking in your soaked clothes and how your body had begun to shake a little harder “This was the place where we had our first date” He said, letting his head turn from yours and fall back against the wall behind the both of you

As he finished his sentence everything seemed to click in your mind, a smile almost crossing your face as you took yet another slow look around confirming what he said, the memory of your first date with this jerk of a man flashing through your mind. 

“Tooru, why did you bring me here?” You ask with a small laugh, watching as the narcissistic team captain was pulling you along behind him, a child-like smile replacing his usual smirk 

You stumbled along behind him, trying your best to not fall from the speed he ran, his hand wrapped tightly around your wrist as he ran ahead of you. 

“Just follow me, you’ll see, I know you’ll love it” He assured, turning his head and glancing behind him to look at you 

You don’t know how he was able to convince you to take a spur of the moment trip to the park, but somehow he did. You told him you had to study for a big exam coming up, but nothing seemed to persuade him to let you stay home. Usually this scenario would be the completely different way around as Oikawa would always be too busy with volleyball to even give you a second glance, but today something was off. 

Not long after school had let out and you made it home you had received a text from Oikawa telling you to get dressed and come outside, of course since you had to study you said ‘no’, but he didn’t take that as an answer. Within a minute you heard your front door open and footsteps shooting up to your room before the door was swung open, to reveal Oikawa standing tall in the door frame. After minutes of Oikawa begging you to come to the park with him you finally agreed, letting him take you away from your studies to go screw around at the park. 

“Wait” He yelled suddenly, making you run into his back

“Hey! You could’ve warned me you were gonna stop” You said, as you stepped back from him, rubbing your forehead after your forehead smacked against his shoulder 

As your hand left your face Oikawa quickly turned around and faced you, a smile on his face. As you looked around you noticed you were in the middle of a curve on the sidewalk, a bright vibrant sight hidden a little ways behind Oikawa. You stepped to the side a bit, trying to get a view of the sudden vibrant colors, but a hand on your shoulder stopped you 

“Ah ah ah” Oikawa tuted, waving his pointer finger at you “Turn around” He said with a smile, and twirling his finger with the way he wanted you to turn

A chuckle left your lips as you smiled at him, before turning your back facing him. The feeling of his calloused hands placing themselves above your eyes, the warmth of his breath against your ear sent a jolt of electricity through your body as he speaks 

“Now, no peeking little cutie” 

With nod, you feel as his slowly turns your body back around, anticipation flooding you. Oikawa was always a man of surprises, he almost always seemed to have something up his sleeve when you were around. Ever since you both started dating he constantly would surprise you with flowers or even his jerseys before games, although the jerseys were more of a ‘you’re mine’ type thing you managed to find it sort of sweet. 

“Can I open my eyes now?” You asked, with a smile, the anticipation eating you alive 

“Someone's eager” He spoke into your ear, a chill shooting through your spine as his breath tickled your neck, a soft chuckle leaving his lips “We’re almost there” He assured, as you walked further down the path

The sound of your footsteps and bird chirping lighty sounded around the both of you, sending a sense of calm through your body. 

“Alright, stop here” He spoke, slowly your down and making you stop right as there was a dip in the cement sidewalk 

“Well?” You ask impatiently as Oikawa’s hand didn’t move an inch from your eyes 

A small laugh left Oikawa, before he began to countdown from 3.  He removed his hands from your eyes slowly, a gasp leaving your mouth as you took in the sight before you. A gorgeous sunflower field, almost covering the entire section of the park, stood in front of you. The sun beaming down brightly on the equally bright flowers. 

“Tooru” You spoke softly, turning around to face your boyfriend “When did you find this?” You ask, letting your gaze go back to the field 

“Well, I found some time after practice one day and ended up here, I thought you’d like it” He answered, a smile spreading across his face as he took in your expression 

With a laugh, you turn from him and make your way towards the field. Just as you reach the flowers your glance over your shoulder to see Oikawa still standing in his spot 

“Well are you going to come over here or what?” You ask with a laugh, holding out your hand towards him watching as a smile crosses his face 

“Y-Yeah” He says, a blush crossing over his face as he quickly makes his way over to you and wraps one of his long arms around your waist 

“Shall we?”

Your heart lurches in your chest as the memory floods your mind, an odd sense of warmth filling your body.  You slowly lift your head up to face Oikawa, his eyes staring out towards the sunflower field not far from the both of you. You begin to think about what went wrong since then, what had made everything change only in a couple months.  Taking in a deep breath, the scent of fresh rain still hanging heavily in the air, you fully turn your body towards him. 

“Tooru” You begin softly, as your began to fiddle with your fingers that rested in your lap “I’m sorry for running out like” You apologize, watching as he turns his head towards you, a sympathetic look in his eyes  

There’s yet another moment of silence before he finally speaks, a sigh leaving his mouth. 

“No Y/n, I’m sorry for being like that. It isn’t your fault” He says, taking one of his hands and placing them on top of yours, ceasing the fiddling of your hands.

Your eyes met him just in time to notice his becoming glossy. Hesitantly, you reach a hand up towards his face as he turns from you,your soft hand cupping his cheek. A sense of guilt spreads through you as you notice tears starting to well in his eyes. Although he was the one who yelled at you and told you off for simply just trying to help every sense of anger you felt towards him began to fade. Without another word you scoot towards him, letting your legs cross over his lap as your arms wrap around his side, your head softly pressing against his shoulder. 

You feel him tense as you move around, unsure of what you were about to do, but the moment your breath brushes against his exposed skin from his skirt his body relaxes. The soft breathing coming from the both of you fills the air as neither of you move to speak, not knowing what to say. You hated how most arguments ended this way, with one of you holding the other, letting you both just sit in each other’s company as everything seemed to just resolve itself silently. 

Through the arguments you both have every now and then, and through the hard times you never fail to end up realizing how much you love the stubborn man in front of you. 

“Come on let’s go home” You say lifting you head off his shoulder and looking up into he brown eyes 

With a silent nod from Oikawa, you slowly move your legs off of his and stand in front of him, holding a hand out towards him waiting for him to stand in front of you. After what seemed like hours he finally stood, taking your hand in his and pulling you close to his side.  

“You’re not off the hook yet” You mentioned with a small chuckle, as you both start to walk home “I’m just cold and want to get warm” You continue, glancing up at him to see a small smile on his face 

“I’ll warm you up when we get home cutie” You hear him say, a smirk crossing his face as he looks down towards you, a sharp blush crossing you face instantly 

“Tooru!!” You yell in shock, slapping his arm as he ran ahead of you a bit a laugh escaping from him 

Your arms cross at you watching him turn his back to you, a laugh escaping from you a

“Wait for me!”  You yell to him, as you rush towards him, noticing how far he’s gotten from you

[illneverrecover]

I hope this isn't weird lol but do you work with music professionally? Or did you in the past? I just finished 'make it right' (LOVE btw) and I'm reading 'point of no return' now and I just noticed how you always link songs with your fics. Not to mention, the way you described music and Joons love for it.. idk it just comes across as someone who also has a deep passion? Either that or I'm projecting my music Major on everyone again lol. Either way I'm loving your writing!!! I hope there's more!

It’s not weird at all, this is actually the cutest ask ever and I LOVE IT I’M SO SOFT OMG

I’m so glad you have been enjoying my stuff and have noticed all the music mentions. I do not work in music professionally, however I’ve loved it all of my life. I’m basically always listening to music regardless of what I’m doing, and I’ve been that way since I was about 4 years old.

When I was in school I did choir/musicals/show choir/audition only singing groups, basically anything I could get my hands on that had music or singing involved. I love singing and it’s a big hobby for me, but I didn’t pursue it as a career because I was reminded constantly how impractical it was and eventually became a nurse instead (I know, quite the 180 I made there, haha). 

I do wish I would have fought for it harder, however it’s still a big passion of mine and one that I indulge in daily (even if it’s just in my car or me throwing my ass in a circle to a kitchen rendition of Ddaeng). It’s definitely a major factor in my writing - I have to be listening to music when I write, and I have whole playlists that focus on what mood I’m trying to focus on at that time (smut, angst, soft, crackhead, you name it - I have a playlist for it). It’s almost euphoric when you find that song that just fits what you are writing perfectly and the words just flow out - oof, there’s nothing like it! 

There will be more!! Someone asked about my WIPs the other day, the post shouldn’t be too far down if you keep scrolling! 

[dreaminae]

We All Need The One Friend

Chapter 8

Hours rolled by as sunlight shifted to moonlight. Friendly competition soon became dangerous as personal tensions rose within the group.

"Rise of Batman!" One person guessed of Jordan's pose.

"Transformers!" A friend playfully argued.

Jordan changes poses in hopes that it might be easier to guess.

With time up, Jordan cracked up as everyone failed to guess his term.

"Okay, what even was that?" Simone giggled.

"Back to the future." Jordan responded in a 'duh' tone as if everyone should've known. "Greatest movie of all time!"

"I've never watched that movie in my life." Simone chuckled, "Plus, the greatest movie of all time is Parasite. Hello!"

"Jordan doesn't do subtitles." J.J laughed. "Like have you met my man?"

Everyone joined in the laughter, but Simone couldn't help but feel like it was strange that she hasn't known a small detail like that.

The game went on as Vanessa took the reigns.

"One word." One person shouted.

"A place. No no, a person." Another one added to list of clues.

"Uh, a painting.... a movie." Layla interjected.

"No, a plane. Wait, what?" One of them fumbled over when Vanessa switched stances.

"You're on a plane."

Giggling, Vanessa changed gestures again.

"Bald. You're bald. A bald eagle." J.J guessed.

"No, not an animal." Vanessa choked up.

"Aye, no cheating." Jordan chuckled as Vanessa spoke.

"C'mon guys." Vanessa encouraged, ignoring Jordan's rules. "You had a poster of him in your room when your ten." She spat out in Asher's direction.

"Samuel L. Jackson!" Asher shouted, jumping up as if he won the lottery.

Liv glanced between the two of them as if they grew two heads. It was stupid how one small detail held a bigger picture.

"Well, you don't get a point for that one." Simone scrutinized, gaining a careless shrug from Vanessa.

The game rolled on, leading to Spencer's turn.

Galloping his feet and twirling his arm, Spencer caused everyone to gather into fits of laughter.

"A cowboy," Jordan shouted first.

"The rodeo." Asher chuckled.

"Wild, wild west." Layla joined in, holding back her laughs.

Adding to his performance, Spencer shook his foot hysterically, while twirling his arm like a madman.

Finally catching on to his charade, Olivia thought back to the night she made Spencer rewatch all her favorite childhood movies. Quoting one of her favorite lines, Spencer had her in hysterics for half an hour. She could still remember him using her belt as a rope, shouting 'There's a snake in my boot'.

"Woody," Olivia muttered with a small smile.

"What?" Her brother asked curiously, not completely hearing her response.

"It's woody!" Olivia laughed, which Spencer replied to with a smirk.

They met each other eyes, before bursting out, "There's a snake in my boot!"

The entire group fell out laughing, excluding Layla.

Spencer returned to his seat grinning like an idiot, but couldn't help but to notice his girlfriend's harsh mood.

"Hey, are you alright?"

Layla nodded lightly. "Guess I am just tired." She muttered, not bothering to look in his direction.

Sensing there was more to it, Spencer left it alone, not wanting to cause a scene in front of his friends.

"Alright, I have the perfect game to play next," Vanessa announced, as she returned from the house with her bottle of booze. "Anyone up for a game of Never Have I Ever. The more you've done the more you drink."

Her announcement soured the mood as Spencer immediately shut down her idea. "Sorry, Ma." Spencer asserted firmly. "Ain't bo drinking happening this weekend."

His eyes flew to Olivia, followed by everyone else's. She rolled her eyes at their dramatics.

"Oh, please. Don't stay sober on my account." Olivia dryly encouraged. After all, this was the first time in weeks she'd been completely sober. With all of her friends within proximity this weekend, drinking wasn't an option for her.

Noting Liv's bitter tone towards her, Vanessa tried to ease the tension. "Sorry, Liv. I forget that you don't drink. That was so insensitive of me." She apologized, placing the booze on the ground.

"It's okay. It's not something I'd expected you to know, so.." Liv shrugged it off, dismissing the subject all together.

"No, liquor. Got it." Vanessa summed up, ignoring Liv's clear implied diss of Vanessa's newness to their group.

Asher rubbed Olivia's thigh, silently asking her to lighten up. Cocking up a brow, she gave him her iconic 'I could careless' glare.

"No drinks doesn't mean no turn-up." J.J cheered. "Introducing the burns of all burns -- jalapeno-infused pickle juice."

"What don't you have in that box man?" Spencer questioned, seriously wondering where J.J randoms items came from.

"Let the burns begin."

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

"Alright, never have I ever walked in on my parents doing it." Simone started the game off.

First victim up, Asher gulped down his first dose of the throat burning juice.

"Oh, God. Asher. No!" Olivia cringed.

"I don't wanna talk it." Asher chuckled at the memory. "RV trip...'08....super weird."

"Oh, you're gonna talk about it." Spencer and Jordan laughed together.

"Not the one to up to Sanoma. How could you not to me?" Vanessa asked playfully, catching Olivia's attention yet again.

Liv couldn't help but wonder just how much did Vanessa know about Asher, that she didn't.

"Cause I was scarred for life," Asher replied, oblivious to the questionable expression of Liv's face.

"Alright, my turn. Never have I ever bought 300 dollars shoes for my one night in Vegas." Simone teased Olivia's bad spending habits.

Tensing up, Liv looked everywhere besides at Layla.

"No cheating. Drink up, Liv." Simone laugh, unaware of the big secret she just revealed.

Layla's eyes narrowed in Liv's direction, fed up with the secrets.

Spencer gawked at his girlffriend, realizing that he and Liv might have to come clean sooner than expected.

"Alright, never have I ever said I love you just to get someone to hook up with me." Vanessa added to game.

All the boys drank besides Spencer.

"Yikes, that was a test that you all failed." Vanessa taunted, "Besides Spencer."

"My bro is a real one. When he says it, he means it." J.J admired, increasing the growing tension between Spencer and his love interest.

In Liv's case, her heart clenched at the mentally, replayed memory of Spencer professing his love for her. She yearned to have a chance just to tell him how she felt, despite the chance he no longer felt the same.

However, in Layla's case, all the times that Spencer claimed to love her we're burning in a flame of betrayal. Because despite that fact she had no solid evidence, that conveyed her worse thought she knew Spencer wasn't being truthful with her.

"You're a lucky one, Layla."

Layla's sneer went unheard by the majority of the group besides the two people who knew the jig was up.

Unaware of the conflicts brewing, J.J continued the game. His hand already pointing at his aimed victim.

"Never have I ever ran naked through a football field."

Admitting the embarrassing memory, Jordan gulped back his shot of pickle juice.

"Jordan! Tell me you didn't!" Simone teased.

"Okay. Okay. I did it. I run through the field, butt naked." Jordan chuckled. "What was it? Freshmen year?"

He and J.J chuckled laughed over the recollection.

"Varsity team stole all of our clothes, thanks to Ash -- over here --- acting like he owned the place during tryouts" Jordan recalled funnily.

"Cause I did." Asher cockily popped his collar. "It's called confidence."

"Confidence. Okay." Jordan playfully mocked. "Whatever you want to call it. Your dumbass stays getting us in trouble."

Asher nodded with a knowing smile. But Vanessa saw nothing funny about it.

"Wow." She gasped seriously. "Okay. Never have I ever crapped all over folks that we're supposed to be my friends."

The laughter stopped, and the smiles dropped in reaction to Vanessa switch up.

"Uh, Vanessa it's alright." Asher tried to jump in before she took things too far.

"It's just jokes." Jordan defended himself, not seeing the harm in messing around.

Vanessa's scornful expression was enough for Jordan to see that she couldn't disagree more.

Maybe it was her role as a protective sister that came into play. Perhaps, it was the jealously towards Vanessa knowing things about Asher that Liv didn't. Or maybe it was simply that Liv didn't feel Vanessa had any right to make presumed assumptions on any of the dynamics within their group when Vanessa barely knew any of them beyond a first-name basis.

Whatever it was, Vanessa's attempt to trash talk her twin was Olivia's last straw. And with that, she felt it was only right to return the favor.

"Hmm, well, Never have I ever spent the summer getting to somebody else's boyfriend a little too much." Liv snapped at Vanessa.

"Liv! What the hell!" Asher choked up, unable to believe that she publically humiliated Vanessa in that manner.

"Yo, Ash. Relax. Let's just play the game." Jordan instructed, trying to ease the tension he caused.

"You wanna play? Fine." Asher groaned. "Never have I ever cheated a concussion protocol to play in a game." He added spitefully.

"What is he talking about?" Simone inquired seriously, over the entire game. "You cheated your concussion protocol? How could you not tell me something like that?"

"You mean like you told me about Princeton?" Jordan asked, trying to guilt trip her right back.

"Wow!" Simone gasped in awe, tossing her blanket aside before storming off.

"Ah, babe, wait! I didn't mean it like that!" Jordan quibbled, following behind Simone. "Baby, wait. Sweetie!"

With the fun atmosphere ruined, the remainder of the group broke off to deal with their own problems.

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

"Can you believe Liv?" Asher groaned, as he and Layla entered the kitchen.

"Not really. Find it hard to believe anyone with all the secrets that's been hidden." Layla replied harshly.

"What do you mean?" Asher asked, clueless.

"Simone's Never Have I Ever!" Layla responded in a duh tone. "When has Olivia ever gone to Vegas."

"Olivia wouldn't lie about going to Vegas. She has no reason to." Asher scoffed.

"You mean like she had no reason to lie about being in Mexico." Layla revealed.

"Liv came to Mexico? When?" Asher asked desperately. "She never told me."

"She went to Mexico to surprise her boyfriend." Layla groaned, annoyed that she had to be the one to tell him. "Only when she got there she saw you and random girl boo'd up." She gestured towards Vanessa as the brunette and J.J entered the room.

"Wait, you and Asher?" J.J asked heartbroken, catching the last part of Layla's statement. "Since when?"

"Where's Olivia now?" Asher requested to know, needing to hear all of this from her.

"I don't think that" Spencer began to suggest against going after Liv, but was interrupted by his girlfriend.

"She's down by bonfire," Layla interjected before her boyfriend could continue to shield his side piece from the mess they made.

Bypassing the other three teens, Asher went to find his girlfriend and demand some answers. Meanwhile, Vanessa and J.J left Spencer and Layla to handle their business in private.

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

[mtherhino]

One side, Two lives

Chapter 11

That’s all I needed to hear

First Previous Next

Warnings: panic attack, blood, mild self harm, suicidal and self deprecating thoughts and swearing

“I’m so freaking stupid!” Roman shouted as soon as he rose up in his room. He dropped to the floor, his eyes shut tightly as they started over flowing with tears that he had held back earlier. He had been so mad and hurt after the wedding but that doesn’t excuse what he said!

“What was I thinking! Why did I say that to De-Janus! Making fun of a side’s name?! God dammit that’s one of the worst things I could say!” Roman yelled at himself as he pulled at his hair. The creative side grabbed both of his arms in a death grip as if he were trying to physically hold himself together. His breathing was becoming erratic but the prince didn’t pay it any mind as thoughts continued to swirl in his head.

           I was so angry I caused Patton to have a meltdown! Janus was only tying to help and I just kept treating him like a villain and a threat! Hell he felt the need to protect Thomas from me and Patton! At this point Roman was gripping at his arms so badly that his nails had broken the skin. He didn’t even notice that his sleeves where starting to turn a bit red.

           Janus was right. He’s always been right! I am the evil twin. The creative side thought sadly. I mean even Patton agreed with him and he’s the one that created the concept in the first place so it has to be true!

Well of course its true. It’s not that big of a surprise, you’ve always been a disappointment. Roman’s head snapped up when he heard the voice. It didn’t sound like just a voice in his head this time, it sounded like someone standing in the room right next to him, it sounded so much more real.

Of course I’m real! As real as what you said back there. You’re such an idiot by the way, saying that, not only to Janus, but in front of Patton? I didn’t think you could get anymore stupid but I guess I was wrong. The voice seemed to chant in his ear. Roman covered his ears with his slightly bloody hands, his breathing becoming even more frantic. He felt as if the walls of his room where caving in on him and there was no way out.

           I have to get out of here, he thought, I have to get away form him! The prince looked around and spotted his closet door. Without thinking the prince got up and ran, opening the door and sprinting into the imagination. He wasn’t sure if he remembered to close the door but that was the last thing on his mind as he ran deeper and deeper into the woods of the mystical terrain.

           Unfortunately even as he ran the voice didn’t let up.

I mean would it have been that hard to just listen to the others? Even I’m surprised at how egotistical you were back there! Hahaha! The voice didn’t stop for a moment and Roman didn’t either. He felt bushes and branches tear and rip at his prince costume but he didn’t care. The only thing on his mind was getting away form that dam voice!

           Roman didn’t stop running until his legs eventually gave in on him and he hit the ground, he’s knees getting scrapped in the process. The prince finally took a moment to look at his surroundings. He was somewhere very rocky and its didn’t look like there was any foliage in the area. A heavy fog had set in wherever he was so he couldn’t see more than a foot away from him. He carefully stood up, his legs still shaking.

           Where even am I? This doesn’t look like mine or Remus’s part of the imagination? As Roman thought that the fog  began to clear. The creative side looked up, horrified as he saw the mouth of a giant cave. He knew exactly where in the imagination he was in now. Roman began backing away form the cave, memories he’d rather forget coming to mind.

How could I come back?! I have to get out of here now! The prince turned to run away but tripped on a rock that he didn’t see.

“Ha! You’re so pathetic, its no wonder all the others hate you!” The voice shouted.

“Shut up” Roman whispered back as he covered his ears.

“You cant even do you’re one job right! Your useless and everyone knows it, especially Thomas!”

“Shut up.” The fog started to swirl around the side angrily.

“There’s no way Virgil could ever care about a weakling like you! He’ll just abandon you in the end, especially when he finds out what you did today!”

“I said shut up.” Romans voice now held a hard edge to it.

“Even your brother will leave you once he realizes he’s been wasting his time caring about you!”

“Shut up!” The fog had become a storm at this point, Roman kneeling in the eye of it.

“YOU WILL NEVER BE GOOD ENOUGH! YOU COULD CHANGE EVERY LITTLE THING ABOUT YOU AND YOU’LL STILL BE A WORTHLESS NOTHING! A BURDEN TO EVERYONE AROUND YOU!”

“SHUT UP” Roman yelled as he stood up and faced the storm around him, the voice having become the thunder. “DON’T YOU THINK IV BEEN TRYING TO BE GOOD ENOUGH?! IV BEEN TRYING MY WHOLE DAM LIFE TO BE THE PERSON THEY WANT ME TO BE!”

“AND YOU’VE FAILED! ALL YOU DO IS CAUSE PAIN TO THE ONES AROUND YOU! YOU CANT BE WHAT THEY WANT YOU TO BE! HELL! YOU CANT EVEN BE WHAT YOUR SUPPOSED TO BE! YOU’RE NOT THOMAS’S HERO!”

Roman felt as if he’d just been stabbed in the gut. All the other things the voice said, he’d known all that, he’d just been trying to deny them, but today had confirmed it. He was no longer Thomas’s hero, the one thing that mattered most to him. The thing that made him keep trying to be better. Now all Thomas will sees when he looks at him is a villain.

The stormed died down as Roman fell to his knees, completely broken. The voice spoke again, this time much softer. The tone would have almost been comforting if not for the words it spoke.

“It would be better for everyone if you just disappeared.” Romans face held a sad smile as he heard those words.

“Your right. They would all be better off if I was gone. I wish I could just disappear.” You could practically hear the smile in the voice’s next words.

“That’s all I needed to hear.”

           Roman realized his mistake too late.

“No! Wai-” but before he could finish his sentence a golden chain wrapped round his arm. Roman struggled and tried to pull it off but to no avail. Before he knew it more and more chains continued to wrap around his limbs and drag him into the cave. Roman tried to resist but he was in no state to fight. The cave was much deeper than it appeared to be and by the time the creative side’s back hit the wall he was in near complete darkness. A figure started to emerge in front of him and Roman could do nothing but stair wide eyed in fear.

           By the time the thing in front of him completely took form the figure looked more like Roman than his own twin did. The only physical difference was a streak of black in his bangs and his outfit change. The thing wore a similar costume to that of the prince’s except the white was replaced with black and a long golden cape followed behind him. The insignia on his shoulder also had a golden crack in it going right down the middle.

           The figure took a deep breath and sighed.

“It’s nice to finally have a body again, its been ages since I’ve actually been able to walk around.” The figure opened his eyes and instead of the apple green Roman’s were they were a dark red that seemed to glow ever so softly golden. Roman gasped and simply continued to stare at the side in front of him.

“Do you honestly have nothing to say to me Roman? Are you not happy to see one of your oldest friend? The side sneered at the captured prince.

“I thought you were gone.” Roman said as he now glared at the other side. “I thought me and Remus got rid of you a long time ago.” The side smiled a cruel grin and laughed.

“You actually thought you got rid of me? Ha! I may have just been reduced to a voice in the back of your head but I was never gone.” The side pulled out golden sword and twirled it around.

“And now that you’re finally out of the way, I can finally take full creative control for myself.” The  figure started to walk out  of the cave as Roman struggled even harder to get out of his chains, he couldn’t risk letting him go and him hurting Remus, he had to do something! Not being able to get out of the chains Roman tried his last option, talking.

“PRIDE!”

           The side finally looked back at the sound of his name.

“Please,” Roman said, practically begging at this point, “please don’t hurt the others. Your conflict is with me so jut leave them out of this!” Roman yelled desperately while Pride smiled cruelly.

“You care a lot about them don’t you Roman.” He said in a smooth tone. His eyes seemed to glow a bit brighter and his smile grew ever so slightly.

“That’s exactly why I’m going to make their lives a living hell.”

           Pride continued waking even a Roman yelled at him to leave the others out of it. He smiled as he reached the open fields of the imagination and saw the closet door.

“You’ve had you chance at being in charge long enough Roman, now, its my turn.”

***

Remus knew something was wrong. He had just been drawing gore in his room when he felt as if the world had shifted. What in this horrible world was that? The duke thought to himself. Although he would usually ignore something like this part of his mind told him that something important just happened, and he needed to find out what it was.

Maybe Roman will have a clue whats wrong, he was summoned earlier to talk to Thomas right? Maybe thats why I feel like someone stabbed my brain with a rusted spoon? The creative side decided he would investigate and started heading over to Roman’s room. There was a heavy feeling of unease went he got to the light sides area which confused him.

Was the argument that bad? Usually this place is filled up with disgusting rainbow and sunshine feelings but now its just, dull. Nevertheless Remus continued forward and tried to open his twins room but was slightly surprised when he found it locked. Roman almost never locks his door. The duke was starting to worry about his brother so he sunk into his twin’s room, not bothering to knock of course.

The creative side was surprised when he didn’t find his twin but a much less energetic room than on average. Usually Roman’s room radiates creative and hopeful thoughts but today a feeling of hurt and anger covered the room. Ok so somethings definitely wrong here, and where the hell is Roman? The dark side thought as he looked around the room. Remus spotted something that might help him in his endeavors.

There on the window sill sat Alexander the venus fly trap, shaking like he was in  freezing cold weather. Remus crossed the room and petted the little plant.

“Hey little guy, do you know whats going on because I have absolutely no clue.” Alexander leaned into Remus’s hand as if he was trying to hide. Remus only became more concerned. He created Alexander to be a strong and brave creature, so if something scares him, it can’t be anything good. For the first time the duke noticed that Roman’s door to the imagination was open.

           Ok that’s definitely not a good sign. Before the creative side could go though the door he saw a humanoid figure approaching. Remus breathed a sigh of relief.

“Hey Ro, you really got me worried there for a while.” The duke failed to notice that Alexander tried to hide even more as the side stepped though the door.

“Ha,” the figure said as it finally stepped tough the door, “sorry Remus, but I’m not Roman.” Pride smiled as he saw Remus’s face turn white as the duke recognized him. The dark side jumped back as he summoned his morning star.

           “Wheres Roman?!” Remus shouted. Pride laughed at him.

“Your dear brother is gone, and soon you will be too.” The new side said as he drew his sword. Remus growled in pure anger and charged forward at the side. Pride dodged Remus swings easily and landed many blows. The creative side wasn’t in the right head space to fight as he worried about what Pride could have done to his brother. In a matter of minutes Pride had managed to disarm the duke and cornered him, the room nearly being destroyed in their fight.

           “You’re nearly as pathetic as Roman and I didn’t even think that was possible.” Pride laughed as Remus growled at the fact that someone would dare talk about his twin in such a way.

“You’re just a stupid little beast. Actually,” Pride said as a smile made its way onto his face, “that gives me an idea.” The red clad side snapped his fingers and Remus let out a scream of.              pain and shut his eyes tightly.

When he opened them he looked up at his now much taller foe. The duke raised his hands to look at himself and saw that they had been transform into, green tentacles?! Remus tried to curse but he could only make small clicking sounds with his beak. Pride chuckle and using his powers crafted a tank on the still standing desk. He then proceeded to pick up the green octopus and chucked it into the tank, Remus slowly sinking to the bottom and as a lid was placed over the inclosure.

Pride, now having full creative control, fixed the room with a wave of his hand. The room took up a much darker aesthetic with black and gold being the main colors. The new side smiled at his work. Things were finally going his way after so long of waiting. A dark smile came onto his face as he whispered to himself,

“Long live the new king.”

Tag list:

@lovelivingmydreams

[riversofmars]

Answers at last! Well, I saw answers... :D

Chapter 7: So We Meet Again

The Library, 52nd Century

“Sorry, am I interrupting something?“ A male figure appeared in their midst. Dark hair and beard, stout frame, he took a twirl, looking around, delighted at the surprise and shock on everyone’s faces.

“It’s can’t be…“ River mumbled, trying to catch up with what was happening. How did he get in here? He was not part of the memory.

“It’s been a while, Professor Song.“ He turned to face her with a wide grin, baring his teeth.

“He’s not the Doctor, is he?“ Anita spoke slowly. She had learned enough about Time Lords during their extensive research to understand about regeneration and River had shown her pictures of all her husband’s faces. That man was not one of them and even on first impressions, he seemed in no way similar to the man she herself had met. He certainly didn’t look at River like someone would look at their wife, he looked at her like she was prey.

“The Doctor? Oh, don’t be ridiculous.“ He nearly burst out laughing as if it was the funniest thing he had heard all day. “Been there, done that, just wasn’t my cup of tea.“ His voice turned to a snarl, it seemed to change ever so slightly; he shushed himself.

“No, this is another Time Lord.“ River said, balling her hands to fists, trying to maintain her composure.

“Of course you get it, you’re clever like that.“ He mused, tilting his head. “I’m difficult to forget, didn’t we have he best of times.“ He interrupted himself, his voiced higher and more excitable. He smirked with a mad sort of glee in his eyes. “No, no, shut up, it’s my turn now!“ His voice turned normal as he snapped angrily. Anita and CAL exchanged confused and worried glances, fearing they might be dealing with a mad man. River, however, already knew for a fact that they were:

“You’re the Eleven.“ She circled around the room slowly, coming to stand protectively in front of CAL and Anita. She didn’t know whether he was really here or just a projection, but she couldn’t take the risk. She had to keep them safe. They had no idea who they were dealing with.

“The Thirteen, actually, but who’s counting.“ He retorted graciously and took a little bow.

“Must be getting pretty crowded in that head of yours.“ River hummed and in response, another personality emerged:

“Long time no see, Ms. Song.“ His face contorted into a grin.

“Hello again, Nine.“ River remained calm. She knew it was the best way to deal with them.

“I don’t think we’ve had the pleasure.“ His voice turned higher, almost feminine.

“Twelve?“ River could only guess, as it was the regeneration of his she hadn’t met before.

“Shut up, the lot of you.“ The Thirteen regained control of his personalities. “Sorry, this is not how I was going to introduce myself, best foot forward and all that, but they’re just so excited to see you again. The Six, in particular, is very eager but we’ll save that for later.“ He smiled apologetically.  

“What are you doing here? How did you get in?“ River decided to ignore the games and cut right to the chase. She glanced to CAL, hoping she was paying attention. If they found out how he got in, they surely would be able to get rid of him as well. She would have to regain control of the computer.

“Seven hacked the system, child’s play really; and now I can see why.“ He smirked at CAL who took a fearful step back and Anita put a protective arm around her. “I’m not really here, of course, just a projection, but I liked the personal touch. Better than talking to a screen, you know?“ River felt a little better for knowing he wasn’t actually part of the artificial world of the Library core but hacking the system was just as bad. Who knew what else he was planning on doing?

“So you’re responsible for this?“ Anita concluded gesturing around to the woman and child that had stopped moving. She hadn’t really followed who exactly he was but it was was blatantly obvious that this scary vision was his doing.

“It’s from the Matrix.“ River stated and the Thirteen grinned:

“Indeed. I didn’t really have the means to play it. I needed a bigger computer, something able to convert it. And I needed someone who’d be able to interpret it.“

“So you used the Library, a computer big enough to handle Matrix data.“ River was beginning to understand. They weren’t her memories that had bled into the artificial reality. It was data the Thirteen had fed into the system. In turn it had helped her unlock her own memories of what she’d seen in the Matrix. “What is that memory? What’s the story behind it.“ She asked, drawing his attention back as he seemed momentarily distracted. Not by his other personalities, for once, but seemingly by something outside.

“A missing puzzle piece.“ He answered briefly and gave a dismissive wave with his hand. “Now we best get going.“

“What?“ Anita asked confused while River remained silent, her mind racing. What was he planning? She knew better than to underestimate the renegade Time Lord.

“The shadows will be back in a moment.“ He explained in an off-hand sort of way. “Get your coat, Professor Song. Oh wait, you haven’t got a body to put it on.“ He laughed, then disappeared.

“River…“ CAL reached out for River’s hand but she grasped into thin air, River was gone as well.

——

Glasgow, 2021

“So this is where you went once the Daleks were gone?“ Ryan asked Jack as they started walking further into the underground building.

“Had to go say hi to Gwen here and she filled me in on what’s been going on. I’ve been out in the universe too long it seems. Time to look after the home front.“ Jack explained with a determined nod and Kate smiled:

“We’re glad to have you, Captain.“

“How many people have you got here.“ Graham looked around, marvelling at the size of the place. It could have housed a hundred easily and there was an erie quality to it with how quiet and seemingly empty it was.

“Not as many as you’d hope. Friends of the Doctor’s it’s quite an exclusive club, but it’s not quantity, it’s quality.“ Kate answered leading the way.

“So how do you know the Doctor?“ Ryan asked Gwen who was walking alongside him.

“Only met him briefly, during one Dalek invasion or another. Honestly, it all blends together.“ She chuckled.

“Ms. Cooper is one of Torchwood’s finest.“ Kate interjected and Gwen sighed:

“And only remaining member…“

“Hey!“ Jack took offence and elbowed her.

“You don’t count, you’re off doing other stuff all the time.“ Gwen slapped his shoulder affectionately and carried on to explain: “I have been trying to rebuild the Torchwood Three hub as well, seeing as it’s closer to home, but it’s slow progress.“

“Torchwood, like UNIT, is like an agency, is it? To ward of aliens?“ Graham asked, trying to wrap his head around it.

“In a nutshell, yes.“ Kate nodded as she lead them down some stairs. “If you come through here, I will introduce you to the rest of the team.“ The steps opened up into a large room. “I know it’s late but they have been waiting up for you.“ They reached a big communal living and working area. There were several tables, desks, computers and such and amongst it all: four people.

“Mr. O’Brien, Mr. Sinclair, let me introduce Dr. Martha Jones and Mr. Mickey Smith, two of UNIT’s finest field agents and former travelling companions of the Doctor’s.“ Kate gesture towards a couple who were lounging on a sofa, currently devouring a Chinese take away with great enthusiasm.

“Nice to finally meet you.“ Martha smiled at them warmly and Mickey, his mouth full of food, couldn’t speak and just gave a wave with his chopsticks. They got up to shake hands as the group approached.

“Likewise, I guess.“ Graham managed an awkward smile as well. During their travels with the Doctor, they had never really stopped to think how many more people had taken trips in the TARDIS before them. It was strange to think that there were other people out there who would understand what it was like, experiencing the vastness of the universe like they had.

“And these are the Osgoods, the scientific hearts and minds of UNIT.“ Kate carried on and gestured to two women, apparently twins, who were sharing a work station. They simultaneously looked up and smiled in greeting.

“I’m Ryan, this is my granddad Graham.“ Ryan introduced them. “We don’t usually do, like, formal…“ He looked around the room awkwardly. This was a lot more official than he was used to. “Like if you don’t mind, first names are fine.“ Graham nodded in agreement.

“Petronella.“ One to the Osgoods smiled.

“Petronella.“ The other Osgood smiled.

“So… you two have the same name? How do we keep you apart?“ Graham asked, confused, wondering what their parents had possibly been thinking.

“You don’t.“ Kate answered in amusement. “That’s the whole point.“

“Right.“ Ryan decided it was best to just accept that. They had just been recruited into a secret organisation to fight of extraterrestrial threats and entered what looked like a very fancy underground bunker… identical twins with the same names really wasn’t top of the weird-list right now.

“Care for some Chinese?“ Mickey offered. They had ordered way too much as usual.

“Don’t mind if we do.“ Graham grinned since they hadn’t had time to eat before setting of on the long drive. He had been eyeing it up, hoping that was where the evening would be going.

“Ma’am, if we might have a word…“ One for the Osgoods demanded Kate’s attention as everyone else settled down to eat.

“What is it?“ The UNIT chief asked and walked around the desk to be able to look at their computer screens.

“We have found another two bodies.“ The other Osgood answered, pointing something out on the computer and Kate frowned:

“Same MO?“ She asked, leaning closer.

“We fine-tuned the algorithm, running through police data bases and found two matches.“ Osgood confirmed.

“Where?“

“Greater London.“ The other Osgood answered. “Pulled out of a lake. It was fortunate that a couple was walking nearby and spotted movement by the water. Otherwise they wouldn’t have been found for weeks probably.“

“Captain?“ Kate looked up to Jack who was currently recounting to Gwen, Martha and Mickey how he had met Ryan and Graham. “Two for pick up.“ She announced.

“On it, will be back in a flash.“ He gave a dazzling and apologetic smile to the others and came to join Kate and the Osgoods. “Just tell me which morgue they’re in and you’ll have them on your slab momentarily.“ He looked at the screen and skimmed the report.

“So… not just people disappearing from time, murders too?“ Graham asked, listening in.

“This is not your garden variety homicide, I’m afraid, Mr. O’Brian.“ Kate retorted thoughtfully. “You’ll see when the Captain returns with the bodies.“

Jack gave a nod and engaged his Vortex Manipulator.

——

Orbit around the Library, 52nd Century

“Here we go.“ Jenny slipped her hand into her wife’s. She had a bad feeling about this but it couldn’t be helped. They had come out of hyper speed a few minutes ago and had fallen into orbit around the Library.

“A whole planet full of books?“ Yaz couldn’t help but marvel at the sheer size of it. The idea of having every book ever written together in one place was overwhelming and beautiful.

“And shadows that can kill…“ Dorium couldn’t help but point out. The idea that a world so beautiful was forever lost made Yaz’s heart feel heavy. What a waste.

“Right, here’s what we’re going to do: your UV grenades, Strax: our best bet would be to send one down ahead of us.“ Vastra looked to her butler who grinned with excitement as he proudly presented the grenades. “We arm ourselves to the teeth with torches and such. We won’t have to stay long. Just contact the Professor, ask our questions, fill her in, and be on our way.“ Vastra gave her wife’s hand a reassuring squeeze and looked around the room into determined faces. “Strax, Jenny and I will go.“

“I want to come, too!“ Yaz insisted immediately, she thought herself just as capable as any of them and she didn’t want to be left behind.

“That’s not part of the plan.“ Vastra shook her head.

“I have been in tight spots with the Doctor as well, I can handle myself.“ Yaz retorted, frustrated.

“I don’t doubt that but someone needs to teleport us back. Mr. Maldovar sadly won’t be able to.“ Vastra pointed out. She had no doubts about Yaz’s ability to hold her own but they needed someone to stay behind. She refused to be split up from her wife and Strax was best placed to handle the weapons equipment. It was the logical solution. “We all have a job to do and we need you to keep us safe from up here.“ She carried on to explain.

“Fine.“ Yaz huffed after brief consideration. “Doesn’t mean I like it though.“ She could see her point but she still felt like she was being sidelined.

“We will be back in no time.“ Vastra assured her.

“Right, let’s get this over with… before I change my mind.“ Jenny sighed feeling anxious. She ran her hand along the hilt of her sword despite knowing it would be useless against shadows.

“Oh, well that’s a surprise.“ Dorium pipped up, drawing everyone’s attention.

“What is it?“ Vastra frowned, confused.

“There is an incoming transmission! Someone in that Library is trying to reach out.“ Dorium explained quickly. He closed his eyes, trying to focus with the help of the communications chip connected to him.

“How do they even know we’re here?“ Vastra asked, worried. That didn’t feel right.  

“Beats going amongst the shadows, doesn’t it.“ Jenny pointed out and Strax huffed in disappointment:

“I have been looking forward to this for hours…“

“Put it on screen.“ Vastra ignored his complaint and turned to the large screen at the front of the ship. Yaz turned Dorium’s box around so he could see as well.

“River! River! Where are you!“ A small girl appeared on the screen, looking distraught. She couldn’t be older than ten years old, taking everyone by surprise. “Who are you?“ She demanded to know before any of them could get over their shock. Her eyes jumped between all of them. Her message clearly hadn’t been meant for them.

“I’m Madame Vastra, these are Jenny Flint, Strax, Yasmin Kahn and Dorium Maldovar. We mean you no harm.“ Vastra raised her hands appeasingly, trying to reassure her. What was a little girl doing in the Library? And why was she looking for River Song? “You were calling for River, I can only presume you mean Professor Song, we’re here to talk to her.“ Vastra carried on, hoping to explain and gain her trust. She seemed scared.

“You’re too late.“ The girl sobbed, getting more upset.

“What?“ Yaz asked, with a frown. They all exchanged confused glances.

“She just left, I was trying to reach her but it drains the power, so much energy…“ The screen flickered. There was a blip in the transmission, it wasn’t stable.

“Hang on, hang on, you’re in the computer?“ Vastra asked to clarify.

“I am the computer.“ The girl answered, taking a deep breath, trying to calm herself. She was not as little as she looked. “I’m CAL.“

“And Professor Song, she’s not with you anymore?“ Jenny deduced and her heart sank. This was the one eventuality they had not been prepared for.  

“She was taken.“ CAL confirmed, nodding, wiping her tears away.

“By whom?“ Vastra gripped the back of the pilot’s chair and dug her claws into the fabric. Wherever they turned, it seemed as though they were one step behind.

“A Time Lord.“ CAL answered, after brief consideration, seemingly deciding to trust them.

“What did he look like? Did he give a name?“ Yaz asked quickly.

“He called himself the Thirteen.“ The girl said quickly, as the transmission stalled again. “I’m sorry, I can’t maintain this much longer. Why are you looking for River?“

“We’re friends of the Doctor’s. There are some terrible things going on out in the universe and we need to talk to her.“ Vastra rushed to explain.

“Please find her, he… “

The connection broke and for a moment, there was stunned silence.

“How is that possible?“ Yaz turned to the others, slowly finding her voice again. “You can’t just, like, download a consciousness onto a USB stick or something…“

“Don’t underestimate Time Lord technology…“ Vastra mused, mulling over what they had learned. This was far worse than facing the Vashta Nerada. They had fallen another step behind in a race in which the goal posts seemed to keep moving.

“We need to find her.“ Jenny said, shaking her head to herself. If only they had been a little earlier, they could have prevented this.

“Who’s the Thirteen?“ Yaz looked around the room, hoping for an explanation. Was this another of the Doctor’s enemies she didn’t know about?

“Doesn’t mean anything to me either, I was hopeful you might have come across them?“ Vastra retorted with a frown as they exchanged confused glances. They had each assumed the other would have the answers but the alias was familiar to any of them.

“Oh no…“ Dorium mumbled, drawing everyone’s attention.

“Can you shed some light on this, Mr. Maldovar?“ Vastra asked, turning his box around to face them again.

“I’ve heard of a Time Lord that goes my numerical designations… The Nine, the Ten, the Eleven… depending on which regeneration he is on…“ He answered slowly. The reluctance in his voice gave them all pause.

“Stands to reason this is a new regeneration then?“ Yaz nodded, relieved that they weren’t completely in the dark after all.

“Why change the name though with every regeneration? Must be quite… disorienting, mustn’t it?“ Jenny asked.

“He is a very unique case…“ Dorium hummed thoughtfully.

“How so?“ Vastra could already tell she wouldn’t like the answer but she asked anyway.

“From what I have heard, he suffers from a strange affliction… called regenerative dissonance. While the Doctor and other Time Lords retain a sense of self and just change their appearance, he becomes a new person every time and when he regenerates, the other selfs are still present.“ Dorium revealed. He had never actually met them but he had heard enough stories to make sure he never would.

“Like a schizophrenic?“ Yaz asked, unsettled. That didn't sound like the kind of person they wanted to be dealing with.

“Anything else you can tell us, Mr. Maldovar?“ Vastra asked and Dorium gave a wary smile:

“He is a thief, a killer and utterly mad.“

——

The TARDIS

“Do you always leave the door open like that? Anyone could wander in.“ The Doctor found the Master leaning against the console as she reached the control room. Dark hair and beard, stout frame, he hadn’t regenerated, just looked a little worse for wear.

“Master…“ Her voice was barely above a whisper. All sorts of emotions boiled up in her: Disbelief at finding him alive. Worry for having him inside her TARDIS. Hate for all the things he had put her through.

“Hello, Doctor.“ He smirked pushing off the console to step closer. “Nice of you to finally show up.“

“How are you not dead?“ It was the most prominent question on the Doctor’s mind.

“Dying is for other people, dear.“ The Master laughed at how ridiculous that notion was.

“How did you survive the death particle?“ She pressed through gritted teeth as they started circling each other slowly. She was assessing her option for subduing him.

“Did you really think the Cyberium would let its host die?“ The Master’s grin was patronising, as if the answer had been obvious.

“Is it still inside you?“ The Doctor hadn’t even thought about the Cybermen AI that resided inside the Master. She had assumed it dealt with, just like the Master themselves but she should have known they wouldn’t be that easily destroyed.

“Nah… Fizzled out.“ He gave a dismissive wave with his hand. “The effort of creating a force field to protect me was a bit much… Plus, I expelled it and electrocuted it until it stopped moving. I was getting fed up of sharing my memory space.“ He snickered and the Doctor couldn't help but feel a little relieved; one thing she didn’t have to deal with at least.

“You’ve been here this entire time?“ She questioned.

“Where was I gonna go? I destroyed everything! No TARDISes, no space ships left… I did start fixing up a TARDIS but turns out your death particle wiped out the organic components in there as well. I’d have to grow a new one but where to start when every living thing has been destroyed!“ He started rambling in a maniacal sort of way, snapping with increasing anger.

“How long has it been?“ The Doctor asked, hoping he had at least suffered in the meantime. She wasn’t proud of it but after everything he had done to her, she felt he deserved it.

“Oh… a few years, blink of an eye. Ten, twenty? Not sure. Anyway, nice of you to turn up.“ He smirked and his eyes flickered to her reaching for something on the console. “Oh no, you don’t!“ He snapped and pointed the Doctor’s own sonic at her. That’s when she remembered leaving her coat; what a stupid thing to do. And to leave the door unlocked… “So why are you here, Doctor?“ He asked as she raised her hands appeasingly.

“To see if you’re still alive.“ She answered slowly.

“Well I am. What difference does it make to you?“ He snarled.

“And you haven’t left Gallifrey?“ She carried on, hoping to at least get her answers.

“I already told you, are you going soft in the head?“ He snapped.

The Doctor remained silent, unsure how to respond. Should she believe him? Did he have reason to lie? But why would he be back here if he had managed to escape in the meantime?

“And what’s this, Doctor?“ The Master demanded her attention again and held out another item he had found in the pocket of her coat: the green prayer leaf.

“Give that back.“ The Doctor exclaimed, quick to anger. She tried to snatch it off him but he pulled away, putting the sonic between them again.

“Oh, is it personal by any chance?“ He hummed, delighted.

“Give it here.“ The Doctor’s voice turned low and threatening. In her mind, she ran through the possibilities of what the Master could do with her sonic in here. There was so much sensitive technology, a blast at the wrong thing and they could either be thrown into the vortex or explode.

“A prayer leaf from the Gamma Forests if I’m not mistaken… traditional gift for a child… tell me, Doctor, are congratulations in order?“ The Master was quick on his feet as always.

“That’s none of your business.“ The Doctor bit back.

“I take that as a yes. But where is the little devil? And where is the wife?“ He asked feigning surprise. “I presume it is the Professor’s child, isn’t it? Not a little bastard born out of wedlock?“

“Hand that over.“ The Doctor demanded again, holding her hand out.

“No, I think I’ll keep it for the time being. Return it to the little one myself… Like Maleficent taking a gift to little Aurora. Why don’t we go see them.“ He suggested circling around towards the console but the Doctor didn’t move away, instead she stepped right up to him. “Come on, Doctor, I know how much you like your Disney movies. That was funny.“

“Where is he?“ She demanded to know, ignoring his giggling.

“Who?“ The Master frowned.

“My son!“ The Doctor practically yelled, losing her temper at last.

“Ohhh so he is missing? Let me guess, someone took him while you weren’t looking?“ The Master grinned and the Doctor couldn’t tell whether he was pretending not to know anything or if he really didn’t. “Was he getting ice cream across the street and a stranger snatching him away?“

“Don’t play dumb with me, Dorium saw you, you have something to do with this!“ The Doctor wasn’t thinking now. Anger and pain were overshadowing her rational thoughts.

“Dorium? Doesn’t ring a bell…“ The Master shrugged, unimpressed.

“You told him about the Timeless Child, that’s how this whole thing started!“ The Doctor yelled and gave him a shove.

“The Timeless Child? Why would I tell anyone about that dirty secret? Give you all that power? Elevate you? I don’t think so, that secret died with the Time Lords and it’ll die with you.“ The Master spat, suddenly furious as well. They were done doing their dance and playing games.

“You and me are the only people who know about it and I sure as hell haven’t told anyone!“ The Doctor snarled stepping into his personal space again. She wasn’t scared of him anymore. He had no power over her.

“Why would I tell anyone?“ The Master seemed genuinely disbelieving of her accusations. “I killed everyone that could possibly have known about it. And I’m gonna kill you, too.“ He jabbed his finger at her.

“You just try.“ The Doctor pressed through gritted teeth. “Where is my son?!“ She shoved him again and he stumbled backward.

“I haven’t got the faintest idea.“ The Master laughed and the Doctor could tell he was speaking the truth. It threw her for a moment, until a more horrifying idea occurred to her: What if she was just enabling this whole series of events to start? What if she was the reason the Master managed to get off Gallifrey? What if this was how he found out about her child, about Dorium, about the whole thing?

So, just to clarify, the Thirteen (well their previous regenerations), plays a huge part in the Eighth Doctor's audios but you really don't have to know them to (hopefully) follow this story. I fully intend to write it like he's a new character and weave all the information necessary into the plot as everyone else, the Paternoster Gang in particular, learn about him. Originally, I intended to just use Time Lord OCs but as I thought about it, I realised how pointless that would be seeing as there are so many interesting Time Lords in the extended canon. So, if anything is difficult to follow, please let me know! <3

[jae-canikeepyou]

| temporary | j.jh

pair: jaehyun x fem!reader

genre: angst?? idek what else to describe what i wrote (nonstop) but yeah idk you judge :D

a/n: i don’t want this to flop just because it’s sad hours.. jk! there’s 7.1k words down there but hey, angst could be good, but i don’t think this is well written because the structure writing’s meh. so aNywHo i hope what’s below could touch your heart? pls lmk! enjoy reading! ~j

━━━━━━━━━━━━━━━━━━━━━

you hate this.

you hate the smell of some random sharp chemical scent stinging your nose, the bland flavours of each meal, the repeated uniform gowns put onto you like you were attending school again. well you were supposed to be until medical records showed you were sick. not dying but based on several incompatible matches and rejected cases to cure your condition, you knew the trail you stood on was heading there.

it was dreadful, knowing that the weeks turned to months— waiting sucked big time especially when you continuously had to cross out days without a specific date to look forward to.

“don’t worry y/n. this is all temporary.” was the only sentence your brother told you.

you hoped all this would be a hurdle to jump over, like another race to finish. running along the track line had its perks. you get to challenge yourself at the endurance you have while the time ticked and caused a rush of exciting adrenaline. the audience were cheering too. the downfall?

you were tired.

to the point you wanted to stop this illness so you wouldn’t have to suffer anymore. the track drawn out for you was neverending.

here’s the good part though,

jaehyun was with you all since the day you arrived, and cheering for you too— like your own personal health companion. the encounter with him was amusing now that you recalled it.

( three months ago )

you sat comfortably on the bed, still adjusting to the new yet familiar setting. “change into this gown, and i’ll assist you to the doctor once you’re done.” nurse kim, better known as jisoo, patted your shoulder before she tended to others in need.

“thank you.” you mouthed, throat still sore from crying because you didn’t want to be back in the hospital. though you really felt fatigue consuming you and energy was vacuumed out of your system, you forced yourself to change anyway.

not until your peripheral spotted a young man opposite from you stared at your body that was half way to exposing. he knew you were about to react, so he rushed to cover your mouth and managed to muffle out a scream trying to escape your lungs. “shhh! please don’t!” he pleaded and gosh how melodic his voice was for a baritone.

thank heavens this man was ethereal, or else you would’ve smacked him with your fists like any other stranger intrusion. he finally let go of you knowing you’ve calmed down. “hi? i’m sorry if i came off as perverted but i mean no harm! i’m friendly!”

“well hello friendly.” your sarcasm on point. “what are you doing in my side of the i.c.u.? there’s a curtain surrounding my corner and how did you get in here without my knowledge? i should be able to notice you either way.” you hugged your torso.

he crossed his arms at the tone of your voice. ”it’s jaehyun. my name’s jaehyun.” he corrected and sat at the end corner of the bed. “that’s kinda hard for me explain.”

“what’s hard to explain-”

“it’s like how it is to a math solution.” he said, his body adjacent to the window. “go on and change. i won’t look.”

you rolled your eyes and kicked him off of the bed. “ugh you’re a pain. i’ll be more assured if you’re out of here.” you took off your clothes and into the new fabric and observed his back figure. he had toned muscles denting slightly under his denim pajamas and white home slippers. he didn’t leave, just kept his word by not peeping at you.

the bed creaked softly alerting him of your finished action. “ah, you’re done!” he exclaimed and turned around in interest.

“what business do you have here if i may ask?” you went to the extent of covering yourself with another pillow.

jaehyun hummed as he rubbed his chin, dimples hollowing and prominent stubbs pricked his fingers. “i’m looking for something i left. it’s a keychain.”

“couldn’t you just go to the lost and found section?” you asked, shooing him away while you scrolled down your phone. again he didn’t leave. “how long are you staying?”

a sly grin crept his face. he leaned closer to you as if he were to kiss you. “as long as you want me to-”

“gross!” you slapped him but he read your actions, stopping your from pursuing. “just find the damn item and leave!”

“fine sheesh.” he shrugged and began searching it under the bed, crawling around to see if it was there.

boredom soon came and you tried to clear your mind from what just happened. you went to the camera icon to take a picture of him to show to your best friend. the viewfinder captured his fluffy hair, side profile with his dimples stapled to his cheeks. his lips were pursed and brows were scrunched. as you sent it, you laid back inclined to the bed, waiting for him to say ‘eureka!’ or ‘found it!’.

but he said neither.

your phone dinged soon enough that your eyes widened.

[09:03] yuna: did you see a cockroach crawling again? if yes then you’re a bad photographer 😆

you let out a long “ha?” and jaehyun looked up to see your face as sour as it could get. “what’s wrong?” he asked and sat next to you as if you both were close already. his face turned blank when his eyes looked at the phone, and he knew you saw his change of expression.

“this is what i mean it’s hard to explain.”

there was a long silence and then it hit you. it wasn’t sheer panic bubbling your lungs or fear overpowering your mind. more of a fascinated shock of a revelation. “y-you you’re—”

jaehyun smiled embarrassingly, scratching the nape of his neck. “yeah.. i’m a—”

“a ghost.” “an angel.”

“what? no! i’m not a ghost!” he shifted on the bed, furthering away from you at the comment. “ghosts haunts people. angels protects people.” his hand gestures explaining his current identity was hilarious.

the phone was on low power mode so when it dimmed, you tapped on the screen, the picture you took show no one but the floor and the bed’s corner. and you haven’t laughed in a while, this jaehyun was entertaining when he defended. “pretty sure that’s not how i encountered you earlier. you scared me.” you raised a teasing brow.

“it really wasn’t my intention.”

the sigh he let out made you laugh more, his surrendering whine would stay in your head forever. “were your wings removed, jaehyun?” you asked. “can other people see you? or am i the only one who can see you? oh wait. this is a million dollar question.” you brought your hands together and he definitely wasn’t amused. “are you even alive?”

he flicked your forehead and you swore there was a red mark on it. “yes. yes—well only children— yes. and.. no.“ he said softly, the latter expressed in sorrow and his shoulders slouched low. “i woke up at the rooftop of the hospital one day because of this soft blanket hugging my back, they were my wings. i knew i wasn’t alive anymore. so when i came to accept it days after, i wanted to try out flying around the city and jumped off the hospital grounds and i fell instead of flying.”

“pfft! what you get from trying out something you ain’t familiar with, fallen angel.” you covered your mouth in realisation but jaehyun wasn’t agreeing with your assumption. “literally you are?”

“i’m not that type of angel. maybe i have some unfinished business, i don’t know. but i’d like to think i’m an angel!”

you hummed, convinced enough at this event. “ah maybe because you left your keychain? that’s counted as unfinished.”

another strong flick numbed your forehead. “no? we can’t bring stuff to heaven.” he gurgled at your innocence. “you’re going to help me find the solution to gain my earthly memories and my unfinished business so i can go to the other side.” jaehyun held your hands, the grip strong yet soft all at the same time.

“why me?” you exchanged looks from him and the view outside. “i’m no expert in this field.”

jaehyun’s eyes twinkled; not in awe but in desperation. “you are the only person who can help me. i can’t rely on children because.. they’re children and they’re so young.”

well that’s common sense, y/n.

“i’ll help.” not knowing why you agreed, but your heart just ache for this beautiful man. he couldn’t remember how he passed, he seemed desperate too, and needed someone to talk to. maybe you could fill in that role before the time came for him.

“thank you!” he had his fists clenched, twirling around as he yelled out the window. “i haven’t gotten your name yet.” his hands fell faintly onto yours, almost a tingly feeling.

“y/n.” you took his hand for a shake, holding onto it dearly. “i’m y/n, nice to meet yo-”

suddenly, his lips kissed the area where he flicked you. “well my dear y/n..” he smiled. “..consider this contract signed. there are conditions, but we can discuss that later.”

life in the hospital starting today wouldn’t be too boring. he stood beside the bed with the most starstriking smile you’ve ever seen, celebrating his awaited desire. you befriended jaehyun and he wasn’t a patient or part of the medical staff. he looked at you with bliss; the sun illuminated from behind him and that really confirmed it..

no, he wasn’t a ghost. he was indeed a spirit.

or angel. he’ll probably prefer that way.

━━━━━━━━━━━━━━━━━━━━━

your brother became more protective than he usually was. straight to the hospital for you was added to his tight schedule and even then he was able to find time to care for you despite that. if you were to talk about the best big brother in the world, he was definitely the first place even in another life.

“guess who’s here.” taeyong cooed and pulled the curtains as he entered your area in the i.c.u. he found it strange when you didn’t greet him with your handshake nor a smile.

he sighed quite heavily at the bowl prepared for you, it turned cold and he placed his bags on the chair beside you. “hey kiddo, you have to eat something, yea?” he brushed your strands away to see your welling eyes looking at the distance outside. the window was the only thing separating you and the world.

most of all, your social life.

taeyong looked back to the day at campus two years ago; he remembered how he rushed to the university clinic after his lecture, stumbling as his legs gave in seeing you with the same pained expression. he should be used to the sight, but each time you end up in a place he never wanted you to be in, it was like seeing it for the first time.

he also remembered how his eyes trailed to your arms that rubbed your mid back. the nurses calming you with words of encouragement that you’d be fine. you didn’t like how you caused him so much worry, maybe one more push he’d be exploding into flames because you weren’t getting any better.. or probably he’d lose some hair because of the stress.

“i.. don’t want to eat.” you weakly pushed the tray on the mini table above your thighs. “i’m sick of this place and i’m sick of being sick. i just wanna go home.”

he knew that certain voice you have which made his heart sunk, but he knew you too well that you missed his cooking. “i know, but it’s short-lived, your condition is curable and you staying here is temporary.”

uh-huh.. that word again.

“and i made you these.” the cushion of the bed lowered due to his weight, making you shift to him. “fried corndogs. added a little twist to it with johnny’s help with the sauce. eat it before nurse jisoo arrives.”

at the corners of your eyes, jaehyun’s lips puckered at the sight of food. this caused you to save a box for him. you gave him a wink and set that aside. you could feel his figure arching to sit next to you as he began eating his share.

“you’re more afraid of her than i am.” you teased taeyong, finally smiling. “get her number already or else i’ll tell her how you’ve been crushing on her since forever.”

“forever’s an exaggeration, sis.” taeyong picked the stick and handed it to you. “it’s only been three months.”

“and three months means your cowardice is really preventing you from doing that.” the crunch from the dish made him tickle you in all vulnerable places and you rolled your eyes remembering the warning of your body’s strength exertion.

jaehyun nodded in agreement, licking the mustard that stained his fingers. “yeah, that’s a coward right there. can i give him lessons?” he stated, and you nearly choked in giggles.

taeyong then checked his watch, pecking you a kiss which got you forming questions at the back of your head. “oh the time.”

you gently placed the devoured stick into the box and dove in other sticks for seconds— or thirds. “you’re leaving? you just got here.”

he gave a wink and tugged the curtains. “not yet. i’m doing what you suggested me to do.” he gestured his palms, indicating that he would attempt to actually get her number. “she’s gonna be off duty in five. later honey.”

focused on the meal, you waved at him as you continued eating. jaehyun scooted closer to you. both enjoyed the meal and he hummed a song; something he would do when his palate craved food from the world. “i still find it unbelievable that taeyong couldn’t see me.” he giggled while the crisp sound of the batter synchronised with yours.

“you mean how you’re finally able to eat actual food each time he comes here.” your voice almost bursting into laughs of mockery, but held them in since jaehyun has been helping you as well. he nudged you gently and ever so sweetly, a toast cheer from your meals.

“yeah, but it’s because we have connection y/n, i’m able to eat solid food. so thank you.”

being locked in an all white room prevented you from going outside, that was fine since jaehyun was there with you, you wouldn’t be that bored. the pact you created with him was so simple that you could memorise it in a second. his requests were you both would be together everyday, cater to each other’s needs, eat and watch some series he missed out or discontinued.

and in the three months being with him, days were getting better. he actually knocked down the walls of your thoughts of hopelessness, encouraged you during your sad hours and hyped you up when you have some rehabilitation sessions. medical staffs were shocked that for someone whose condition was clearly on the verge, the will to live was written all over you.

jaehyun appreciated the ideas you’ve given him; memories or events that he might’ve forgotten, or any category he used to love like sports / music. he mentioned he knew how his family looked like, but not their names nor his home address. so he couldn’t visit them. though there was little progress and countless of bickers regarding the matter, you both were getting somewhere on each ends. and in the midst of it, you had each other as support.

“does your family or ancestors have some kind of gift?” he sunk down with you at the inclined bed rest. “while taeyong might not have it, you do?”

“maybe, but i’m not sure. we don’t talk about these things.. of the unknown, ghosts and spirits and-” your jaw dropped when he bit the remaining half of the corn dog from the stick you held. “jaehyun!”

“how many times do i have to tell you i’m a guardian angel?” he immediately rebutted your clumsy referral while chewing deliciously. “specifically yours, so don’t deny my role for you.”

your heart skipped beats. the claim he just did was heartwarming, and it was the first he said anything nice since your introductions months prior. “w-who said you’re my a-angel?” you batted your lashes.

jaehyun pointed at himself and disappeared to somewhere you do not know where he’d go considering he wasn’t familiar within the city. at night it was always like this, at 8pm sharp, he’d leave without saying goodbye, leaving you alone. then he would return the next day, greeting you with the same smile. maybe being an angel had its curfew too?

but as the sun rose the following morning and the colours merged into the prettiest pair the city ever witnessed, jaehyun anticipated the minute he sees your eyes slowly opening then adjusting to the light of the day. your calm beauty had him awestruck. he never felt this way before, more so, it was the first since he became a spirit.

come on come on come on, he stared at the hand of the clock, just one more second—

“hey.” he froze once he heard you and hesitated to turn around. “this is a new look on you.”

jaehyun shyly did so anyway, ears red that his planned surprise for you ended up failing. “do you like it?”

the long hums of your morning voice was more nerve-wrecking than waiting for the time to reach its end. “like? i love it! you look fresh!” you complemented him in all honesty.

until today, he wore the same denim pj’s and lets not question whether he does change. what struck you was that he wore a simple white tshirt with denim jeans, pairing them with a brown suede ankle boots. that wasn’t the key point of his fashion today.

rather, he topped his attire with costumed angel set; a halo and wings. when a proud smirk appeared, it got to you that he was really handsome. “sweet. oh i got you breakfast.” he tossed two sandwiches, carefully wrapped yet your nose could smell its delish filling.

“thanks.” you accepted them. “i didn’t know angels have their allowances.”

“we don’t. i used your cash.” jaehyun said, playing with the change coins. he flinched for cover, your hands in attempt to hit him.

you pinched his cheeks with the support of his hollowed dimples. “i told you to tell me if you’re going shopping with my money! is the costume included too?”

“i was supposed to but it seemed like you were having a nice dream!” he poked your forehead and there was no chance to fight back because for one, it was part of the contract. “and i’m sure it’s a nice one..” he trailed off, pointing at the small drools on your pillow.

his dimples started to show and you couldn’t resist its existence. “be thankful you’re really cute. anyway, did you ask children to do it for you again?”

jaehyun scratched the nape of his neck. “yes, and i treated them in return. who are you texting?” he hovered over you.

your lips straightened to a flat line. “i’m talking with jinho. he said he’s coming but you know men, they sometimes break promises. he’s probably not going to come again today.”

jaehyun didn’t know why his heart squeezed, if it was for how you were treated unfairly or if it was just him. he wasn’t in the position to feel this way towards you. yet because it was you— someone he spent three months with— he thought maybe it was normal to have such feelings. he visits you every single day, cared for you, be with you when your boyfriend not once ever did.

the thing was, did he have the right to keep these unexplainable bubbles of emotions in his gut? it wasn’t like you belonged with him anyway. just why did jaehyun hate it when your lips utter jinho’s name when he never acted like your beloved?

“why are you still with him when he doesn’t show affection for you?” jaehyun pat your head in comfort.

“maybe because i love him.” you typed on the screen to message him, yet stopped a while when he said those words. he was right, if jinho truly loved you, he’d be here already. so you stayed silent instead and divert the conversation. “oh this can help your memory! about love! did you perhaps have a girl-”

*zing!* sharp stings pierced and came to jaehyun’s temples like arrows.

he held the pain in as he didn’t want to worry you. “i’m gonna head out for a bit, y’know fresh air.” he swallowed his own saliva, hoping you didn’t hear it. he didn’t mean to be rude and disappear at you like that. his chest squeezed again at the thought of you with someone else.

he didn’t know what love felt like until now.

━━━━━━━━━━━━━━━━━━━━━

it was unexpected.

jaehyun never imagined he would fall for you so soon, or ever thought of you nothing more than a friend who’d help him go to the other side. if he had to describe the relationship you both have, that’d merely be a boss-client kind of thing. yet he still knew that there was a connection despite him not being human anymore. there were frequent playful nudges and he waited half a year to be able to communicate with people. you were special.

special in a way that you treated him like he was alive again. you didn’t care about whether people would give you stares as your silhouette seemed like you were talking to yourself or someone they couldn’t see in the naked eye, or how nurse jisoo and taeyong would ask why you didn’t eat all of your meal only to save the other half for him. he was spoiled by you, where it was supposed to be the way around. sometimes he wondered if he was the right angel to look after you. in the end, it was him who initiated the contract and you complied without hesitations.

as if he were to watch a movie— except he wasn’t— pictures flashed before his vision, from a blurred quality to a clearer one. it was short, yet it was not enough to tell him what they were. maybe it was a memory, but he couldn’t put the scenes together.

he rubbed his eyes and felt the light gust of wind from children running through him with a ball in their hands.

then another fragment came to his sight, the sting of his temples ache like ones in the room. bright lights from the memory have blinded his eyes before it was replaced by the sun’s rays.

what the heck? he thought.

—

jaehyun kicked the stones that were separated from the cracked concrete ground. the way the stones rolled was identical to his churning stomach. he wondered how you were doing and later smiled to himself when he saw you waving at him from your window.

his palms were brought out to wave back except your lips didn’t utter his name. it was jinho, who happened to behind him; holding flowers.

of course.

he forgot about it for while; you have a boyfriend.

by this time he started to question if angels or spirits actually do have feelings; romantically. televisions never specified this fact. taeyong appeared in his field of view, who successfully asked jisoo out on a date. since when did hospitals served as a love spot? clearly his mood changed, but seeing you noticing him and waved at him, he decided to apologise for cutting you off earlier.

and he wished he shouldn’t have entered the i.c.u, from the door entrance the curtains were slid to the bedside. you were embraced in his arms, held onto dearly. he saw the tears rolling down your cheeks. a bouquet of flowers wrapped around your fingers. not wanting to intrude or ruin the moment, he turned around to give you space. it was your personal life after all.

he thought that maybe if he were alive, would things turn out differently if he met you? he would probably treated you better if ever.

jaehyun leaned against the door frame of the i.c.u. the human him would tell him he was definitely heartbroken witnessing that. he was supposed to be happy for you; you were improving mentally, recovering physically even if it was slow. your boyfriend finally visited you.

speaking of the said person, he felt jinho’s figure leaving the room, brushing past and through him. so he looked back at you, who was staring at him with a weak smile.

were you okay?

then tears brimmed at the edge of your eyes.

yeah, you definitely weren’t okay.

“y/n?” jaehyun called out and approached your bed, being the curtains to a close and sitting beside you afterwards. “what’s wrong? why did jinho leave so soon?” he pointed.

your face went pale and though ordinary people would know it was due to the illness, jaehyun knew it was about something else. he held your hands, pulling you gently for a hug. it was still funny if you think about it; how you could hug an angel physically. “we called quits. it was mutual though, don’t be too shocked.” you fixed your chin onto his shoulder and felt him tense at the revelation.

“why? you wanted him to come over and he did. you should be happy.” jaehyun stared into your swollen eyes, cupping your jaw to wipe the fallen tears away. “he gave you flowers, hugged you.. what’s lacking?”

“that wasn’t a normal hug.. it was a parting one. jinho told me he couldn’t take it.” you began, leaning more into his touch. “he doesn’t like that he’s incapable of helping me get through all this. seeing me suffering was too much for his heart.”

jaehyun’s fists balled and you could see them shaking. his eyes turned darker the more you explained. “so he was thinking of himself more than he thought of you?” his tone raised and you flinch at the volume. “where’s the mutual in that, y/n? you agreed to his selfishness even if you’re hurting so much?”

“it is mutual jae.” you sniffed, sitting up properly to expound further. “for the past three months i’ve been wanting him to come here because i wanted to break up with him. i wanted to tell him that he should get used to..” your voice trembling and jaehyun held you close. “..that he should get used to not having me around anymore. i fell out of love. so if there’s anyone who’s selfish, it’s me.”

“what.. are you saying?..” he asked softly. “it sounds like you’re giving up.” referring to your existence around the people you love. “are you giving everything up? all we did to improve your condition?”

a sob escaped your lips and you covered your face because you couldn’t look at him in the eye as you answer. you didn’t like to appear weak to him than you already were. “jaehyun, when you disappeared, the doctors came and said there was no kidney donor. it’s finalised. they’ve contacted local and overseas hospitals and none were of my match. i’m getting sicker each day and i really appreciate the motivation you’ve given me and there’s nothing left in my soul to fight any longer.”

“no no no no. please me tell me you’re not serious, y/n.” he begged. “tell me that you’re going to rethink about it and have the will to live. tell me that what we both signed up for will not go in vain. we worked hard together. we helped each other, we went through thick and thin. tell me that your decision is not permanent.”

“and what? you’re going to tell me my condition’s temporary too? if yes then you’re just like taeyong and nurse kim jisoo.” you laid back down and stared at the window.

jaehyun was about to speak when you started to sniff again. “everything that’s happening to me is always temporary.. nothing ever stays.. no one ever stays.. taeyong’s visits are limited, my personal nurse is always busy.. and what hurts me the most is that our time together is temporary too. soon enough you’ll go to the other side.. you’re only the friend i have now.”

“hey..” he cooed and now laying down beside you, wrapping you in his arms as you sunk more onto his chest. “..don’t say that. i-i’m still here.” even if he said that, jaehyun knew that that was false; that day would actually come, he just didn’t know when.

you turned to face him and hugged him tightly, sleep starting to get to your system. “when i met you, you became more of a boyfriend than jinho ever did.”

he caressed your back and you could feel the vibrations from his soft laughs. “look, i’m sure jinho did his best to be your boyfriend. and if i was your boyfriend.. well you’re talking about a guy who hasn’t gotten a single clue of who he is nor have his memories returned. my unfinished business is still a blank page. it may look temporary now but i guarantee you, i know you’ll have that new transplant, it’ll be-”

“that will never come.. i’m dying, jaehyun.”

jaehyun hummed in disagreement. he was fuming but he tried his best not to show it, that will contradict with his role of being your guardian angel. “tsk, say anything further i’m really gonna flick your forehead.”

you chuckled since it reminded you about the first day. “i mean, if i don’t make it, that would mean i get to be with you. it’s not temporary anymore, right?”

he bursted in scoffs of disbelief and you could tell he was playing around at the same time. “what? do you wanna be with me so much?” he questioned, flicking your forehead. “i wouldn’t mind having a side kick though.”

“i’m kidding, but truth to be told, you’re the best angel anyone could ask for.” you fixed the crooked halo headband for him. “no wonder children loves angels.”

“you’re acknowledging i’m an angel now, huh?” he messed your hair. “if children loves angels, what about you?”

*zing!* jaehyun shut his eyes closed. an unclear image of him locking his phone; its wallpaper of him and his parents.

tsk why am i feeling this again—

“i’ll say yes if that’s what you want to hear.” you challenged. jaehyun squinted his eyes open, to you it was pretty obvious it was what he wanted to hear.

jaehyun pinched your cheeks to awake you from reality, once again setting the memory aside. “we can’t date. i don’t want to be a rebound.” he stuck out his tongue, making you mirror the same. “you’re human, i’m an angel.”

“technically a ghost but i’ll take it as a self-proclaimed angel.” you shrugged, a curve appearing at the corners of your lips. “anyway, should we continue watching-”

the curtains separated which made you and jaehyun jolt in shock. “y/n!”

taeyong’s voice echoed the room, glad that most patients were asleep and he threw himself onto the bed. jaehyun got up, letting your brother hug you. “they were wrong!” he cried in tears of joy.

“they messed up your records. your condition was identical with another patient’s!”

you saw jaehyun giving him a look you think would pass as a meme. “what is he saying?” he asked.

“what are you saying?” you blinked several times at his shaking hands and hoarse hiccups.

“you have a donor!” he exclaimed.

jaehyun’s smile grew and as he walked towards you, he held your hands to squeeze them in congratulatory. “well, what did i say y/n? told you it’ll come.”

the pain on his temples faded it always did, but it was something he experienced quite often in the past days. he couldn’t figure what it was.

━━━━━━━━━━━━━━━━━━━━━

almost everyone in the room observed how anxious you were, the fiddles of your fingers and the constant biting of your lips that they could bleed any moment now. you were moved to a new room and jaehyun poked your cheek to gain your attention and to snap out of your daydream. a satisfied grin plastered on his face when your eyes locked into his.

you thought maybe the heavens probably heard his words. last week, he did say the transplant would come, and it did. soon later, you would be having an operation; a new kidney to function. you waited for this for so long that just thinking about it, you’d probably cry again.

seeing jaehyun stare into the panorama of the city before him had your chest tightening. it wasn’t good nor bad..maybe you were just nervous that the reality of all this was actually happening. he was glowing compared to most days; and it’s not due to the sun adding extra illumination to his figure. it was like the first day, his greeting was awkward but it became something you’d never forget.

the medical staff left after briefing you, injecting anaesthesia so you could meet your slumber. taeyong messaged he would try to arrive as soon as he could, and you were assured by the time the operation’s done. now the room was silent, all you could hear was jaehyun’s shoes clicking on the marbled floor. his hands grabbing yours to comfort you.

“scared?” he asked with faint dimples trying to boast. you nodded. “you shouldn’t be. you’ve waited for this for so long. everything’s gonna turn out fine for you. and i’m here, guarding you as usual.”

you wrapped your arms around his neck, and he responded by holding your waist, sinking in deeper into the embrace. “i’m not scared now. i don’t know how different it’d be if i hadn’t met you- well, you introduced yourself first before i did, so..”

your eyelids suddenly began to drop, the drug soon kicking in. “y/n, when you come out of that room, only half of the contract’s completed. there’s still mine to go.” he said, laying you gently on the bed.

“i know. it’s just everything seems to happen so fast.” you admitted sadness, because that always was in your head since the news broke to you.

“do you have any questions before you sleep?” jaehyun propped his elbow onto the side table, fascinated how you were still trying to keep yourself awake just to converse with him. “about me. because who knows if you would remember me once you’re conscious again.”

“why would i forget my angel?” you giggled, eyes closing. “hm.. i was going to ask you this but you ditched me haha.”

“oops. sorry about that.” embarrassed, jaehyun rubbed his chin just recalling that day.

“i wanna know if you knew how love felt like. do you remember?”

*zing!* red lights circled around in a container orbit, its center rotating as if it was signalling.

jaehyun was stunned and out of words for a while. the same feeling came flushing to him as you both talked about love before. of course he knew what love was. you made him remember. love was like sailing on a boat at the open ocean before stumbling upon something so beautiful that you couldn’t take your eyes off of. “yeah i do. why?”

although you felt that you’re close to drifting to dreamland, an urge in you wanted to tell him why. “because you asked me if i ‘love’ you.”

*zing!* the clock striked 8. it doubled and tripled in vision, moving in a static way.

jaehyun felt dizzy and nauseous. please just stop..

holding the stinging pain in and ignoring it, he leaned closer. “do you now?” he asked, a sly smile creeping his mouth. “if you’re to ask me, i do love *zing* you.” he heard you manage to let out a giggle. “i love to enlighten you when you’re down. i love talking with you and stealing your food. basically just everything about you.”

“hm, same. like platonic love.” your hands find your hold his.

“mhm. platonic.. lo-” he paused due to the continuous throbbing, and gave you a little squeeze despite the hurt he had been feeling recently. hesaw how you didn’t reply, your breaths heaving softly and calmly. his smile broke out as this always happened whenever you held onto him.

what he couldn’t say out loud was that what he felt for you the entire time wasn’t a platonic love.

he really loves you like you’re his.

—

heavy pain awoke you from unconsciousness. you tried to open your eyes without letting the light blinding them. the first person you saw was taeyong and jisoo, their bodies almost covering your pan of view. your eyes craved to see jaehyun, your chest drummed fast when you couldn’t.

taeyong looked worried, brushing the strands from your face. “are you okay? do you feel any pain?” his palms caressed your face.

you didn’t answer, yet the tears wanting to fall have met its end. jisoo quickly left to find the surgeon and taeyong followed to fill in paperwork. where was jaehyun? why wasn’t he here with you? he always appear before you as soon as your eyes flutter open. you were so used to seeing his face and that you were assured he’d be there.

more than two hours have passed and jaehyun still hasn’t shown himself. so far into the day, you’ve eaten porridge, changed a new set of clothes, had a few conversations with taeyong and jisoo, and watched the series alone. even then you waited for him to come. now you were left alone briefly again. you tried to sit up or incline the bed.

“if you needed help, call my name. did you forget me already?” jaehyun’s body assisted yours by acting as a support. “you shouldn’t move too much, y/n.”

jaehyun felt his torso like he was hugged by a koala. “i thought you’re gone. i didn’t see you when i woke up..” your voice soft and hoarse.

“i was here the whole time, behind jisoo and taeyong.” he said, puzzled by how late you noticed him.

“stay with me for a while.” you requested, and he followed. “i love how you’re always here.”

again, sharp stings hit his temples. fragments of past memories came flushing to him. they were still monotone, but this time they were clear enough to see what they were trying to portray. was it how he passed? there were people pumping his chest, people holding his hands dearly.

even without seeing his face, you could feel jaehyun was uncomfortable. he didn’t know why the pain was frequent. “is something bothering you, jaehyun?” you pulled away, and you were shocked to see him switching from solid to translucent; like he was flickering. “hey, why are you-” you reached out for him, but your hands failed to hold his. they passed through him like he was gas. you couldn’t feel him anymore.

“y/n..” jaehyun gave a painful look, something you’ve never seen before. “i think i’m fading.”

you arched your brows and lips parted at that certain sentence you thought you’d hear in the far future. “why? our contract is not done yet.” you replied, still attempting to at least touch him again. “we have yet to find your unfinished business.”

jaehyun knew what this meant. he knew what was happening. he felt stupid for not telling you sooner. “maybe it’s already revealed, i just haven’t acknowledged it.” he saw his limbs flickering then fading, taking turns of the two. he was worried, but he somehow felt safe.

it was hard to understand what he was trying to say. each word that came out of his lips were shooting your heart like daggers. you clenched your clothes by the buttons of your pajamas, tears forming then falling. “w-what do you mean? are you leave-” you quivered though you didn’t want to show it. “how long have you known?..” the reality of it now seeping into you.

“i’ve known and realised it for a week now.” he said, forcing his lips to smile, to appear unaffected. “whenever the word ‘love’-” he groaned at the pain again, bending down slowly. “..’love’ is mentioned, i feel this rush of mixed pain and happiness. i think it’s related to what i have left here on earth.”

“i knew you were acting strange, but i thought it was nothing because you’d looked fine.” you asked, trying to get off the bed to go to him. you wanted him to explain further because none of what he said was processing in your brain right now. “you seemed fine..”

“the reason why you could see me was because you’re the person who will make me remember what love is.” he held your face, and all you felt was a tingling feeling from his touch. “when i was alive.. i was a stubborn boy who only cared about himself. i never had a relationship, never appreciated the love my parents given me.”

“if you remember all this.. did your memory show you how you.. died?” you looked at him and he gave a smile, almost a parting one.

“yeah.. it was the first hint.. i was late for my basketball championship match. i was texting my parents to come to the game while crossing the street.” jaehyun chuckled, a bitter one and people could tell if they actually heard him. “i saw i was rushed to the ambulance, the sirens alerting everyone.. i was wheeled into the e.r.. i guess you know what happened next.”

then he broke down, arms bringing to his face. “..i couldn’t tell mom and dad i love them..” jaehyun weakly came forward, pulling you into his embrace. it was confusing that he could touch you, but you couldn’t. no matter how much you wanted to give him comfort like he use to do with you. he held onto you, as if he didn’t want to let you go.

“why didn’t you tell me what you’ve been feeling? why tell me now, jaehyun?” you tried to cup his face but to no avail they still went through it. you’re practically begging him to give you reasons why he had to hide it from you.

the shakiness his pupils did have shown he was scared. “i didn’t want you to feel sad about me. that’ll only destroy the joy from the news you received.”

your palms dropped to your thighs, breaths hitching and let out uncontrollable muted gasps. “i am sad now! i’m sad that you’re leaving me-”

his touch calmed you. “i never really got to say this because all we ever did was to support each other but.. i really, deeply, from the bottom of my heart.. thank you, y/n. you taught me how to love again, in the little things and..”

“jaehyun..” you sighed heavily and eventually cried with him, heart tugging your strings until they snapped.

“..and maybe that’s my unfinished business.” his smile was definitely forced.

and you did the same. “i’m glad i was able to help.. i’m glad you’re able to find what love is. but if you could love a person again, i’m sure they’re very lucky.”

hearing him let out hurtful laugh and sniffs became often as you told those words. “you are lucky you’re loved by an angel. i told you i love you, right?” his arms went through your body, then his entire body moved back like he was magnetised to something he waited for.

it was time.

you felt the same kiss on the forehead for the final time.

he saw how you wailed, craving for his embrace, like a child looking for a mother’s touch. what ached him was that you couldn’t see him anymore. the cries became louder, taeyong ran to you, thinking you were still hurt from the operation. he was an angel, he should be strong for you but all he felt was

hurt.

he shouldn’t have left your side at night. he should’ve stuck with you like glue. he wanted to spend longer time with you.

what hurt him the most was he should’ve known that three months was temporary.

your eyes caught sight of the man you stayed with you. because of him, you got to find out a lot about yourself when you were vulnerable, things that had to be dug deep in order to find that hidden gem. in the past minute you couldn’t see him. but now he was floating in the air, glowing more than usual. you smiled painfully because he still wore that stupid halo and wings, and the letters you’ve written that you hoped he wouldn’t see but he actually did.

taeyong and jisoo’s words of comfort did nothing on you, as you saw your angel jaehyun drifting further away from you. you reached out for him and he did so too and,

he smiled for the final time, tears visible and they rolled down his cheeks. “i love you, y/n. so so much.”

you cried harder and clenched onto taeyong, not caring whether it hurt him or not. your brother gave a confused look, shocked to see how much your frail body exert such sorrow.

“me too.” you wanted to tell him, yet it wasn’t close to a whisper.

you hate this.

you hate that the only person you’ve just grown to love departed from the tip of your wavering fingers.

you hate the word temporary.