#Listen this is not my fault Shed started it /silly

[ochrearia]

Tickle fight for the PoPr drabble ideas >:3c

In PoPr universe, so BF -> Keith, GF -> Cherry

Hysterical laughter was the first thing Pico heard coming back to the apartment. Immediately his skin prickled in a sense of playful danger, because there was only one thing that could be causing laughter as hard as that, and if he wasn’t careful, he would be its next target. If he didn’t want to be dragged into the mess, he could easily just not go into the room with the laughter until it was done. But also that was boring, and he really wanted to witness a hysterical Keith with his own eyes. So, putting his keys away and slipping off his shoes, he slinked down the hallway and peeked his head around the doorframe to be met with an adorably silly sight.

Keith was, in short, trapped. Belly to the bed, his face was stuck in an expression of complete mirth and ticklish anguish, fists pounding into the mattress as he screamed out his laughter. Keeping him trapped in his ‘torture’ was Cherry, sitting on top of his upper legs and grinning wickedly at the back of his head. Her devilish nails were dancing wildly over both of his sides, and her tail was wrapped around his ankles with her tail tip teasing meanly behind one of his knees. Pico shivered at the sight, butterflies starting to flutter in his belly because lord, that looked like it tickled like hell. The demoness was a wicked thing when she was hungry to hear his or the rapper’s laughter. Ruthless but still gentle. There was no telling what would’ve happened if he’d been home when the hunger struck. He almost felt bad for Keith.

Almost.

“Not so funny when it’s you, huh? Or, well, I guess it is really funny. You wouldn’t be able to stop laughing if you tried.” Pico said smugly, rounding the corner properly and entering the room.

“Fuck you- hah!” Keith shouted between his laughs, an unnamable shine swirling in the one eye he had open and trained on his boyfriend.

“Ah, he’s still defiant. You haven’t destroyed him enough yet. Go for the kill, Cherry, defend my honor.”

“Fu- wa-aha-wait!”

“On it, boss!” Cherry responded playfully, quickly releasing his legs and flipping him over from on his belly to on his back. Pushing his shirt all the way up, she gave him a few seconds to breathe before her nails touched down on the skin of his stomach- which also happened to be his death spot.

Keith, of course, lost his damn mind.

“Lower right side, right on the edge of his belly, gee it sure is such a shame that we figured this spot out, isn’t it?” Cherry teased wickedly, putting her nails to good use. “Oh, please, continue to laugh, such a wonderful, electric shade of indigo. Did I ever make mention that my synesthesia works with laughter? Ah, well, guess you know now!”

“That explains so much.” Pico snarked, having to raise the volume of his voice to be heard over Keith’s hysterics. “Always wondered why you seemed to get actually hungry to hear us laugh sometimes. I thought it was just because you were obsessed with the sound.”

“Both. Both ideas can exist at the same time and they do!” Cherry answered gleefully, very proud of herself. “Hmm… what do you think, Peeks? Think he’s had enough?”

Pico turned his gaze back to the trapped blue-haired boy, who was staring at him with such malicious intent that he knew he was going to be screwed no matter what he said. He’d already provoked him. Maybe if he was lucky Cherry would give him a ten second head start to escape into the other room before his fate caught up with him.

“No idea how long this was going on for before I got home, but he’s still breathing, so… give him a few more minutes.” Pico said finally, offering a wild grin full of mischief and nervous anticipation. “But I have a feeling I’m going to be made to eat my words the minute you let him go. Think you can give me a head start to flee before he’s on my ass?”

Cherry snorted out a laugh, continuing her evil scribbles. “I’m sure I can manage a few seconds for you… but know that I’d never pass up an opportunity to see your bright, aqua blue laughter for very long.”

“You’re so- snrk- DEAD!” Keith shrieked, still trying to escape to no avail, knowing that he’d be released in the next few minutes. He’d honestly been content to give Cherry what she wanted, but since Pico came home, his drive to be a menace was provoked into overdrive at his teasing words. Someone was going to pay, heavily.

[kairiscorner]

Watching miguel marry somebody else? Then gabri courts us /j

(sighs)

walking down the aisle with someone who isn't me — miguel o'hara x reader

(reblogs are greatly appreciated, it helps get my content out there! if you guys like what you see, please reblog it too <:D)

summary: you felt your whole world crumble when you were there with him, by the altar—just not you as the one he'll be marrying. you feel like crying, screaming, running away—you just can't stand the sight of miguel being with anybody but you. but could you blame him? you waited too late to tell him the truth, what you really felt. word count: 868

you were never one to cry at weddings, you honestly couldn't care about someone starting their life again with the addition of another person in it. if anything, weddings always brought smiles to your face. you always dreamed as a young child what your wedding would be like, how beautiful your spouse would be, how tall your cake would be, how much tears your parents and friends would shed, and just... how happy you were going to be for the rest of your life. and just when you thought you found that person... everything comes crashing down on you when he tells you himself, with a wide grin and his right hand over his left, obscuring his surprise, that he's found someone special to him.

why, oh why, universe, do you find your sorrow entertaining?

and the worst part of it all was... you were the person of honor at his wedding. you stood there, close to him, but not close enough to be that special person who he gazed at with such affection, held overflowing love and devotion for in his heart, the one he was going to spend the rest of his life with. you were none of those things to him, and for the first time, you saw yourself outside of your body, you wanted to grab yourself by the shoulders and shake you awake. you wanted to slap that fraudulent smile off your face, it hurt to force yourself to stretch a smile this wide when all you wanted to do was sob yourself into next month.

but you couldn't do that, no. you'd be selfish for not being there when he specifically asked you to. besides, it was your fault for not admitting to him sooner. you had loved him for more than a decade, you had adored him for what was about to be 15 years in the making. he held your heart in the palm of his hands without even knowing it; with his silly smiles when he would be caught off guard snickering at something, when he'd look all aloof and stoic when completely in focus, and when that shine and widening of his eyebrows when his interest has been piqued—when he's completely enamored with something—or someone, it seemed—you felt your heart beat a little faster, sometimes skipping to beat once or twice altogether.

you realized it at the end of your junior year, you were in love with miguel o'hara, the only guy who ever looked at you like you were worth something, despite his unbearable attitude and snarkiness—he cared about you a lot more than he's ever cared anyone else. but caring for and loving are not one in the same. you were the one he cared for, but you never were the one he loved.

you supported him and were there for him even after you realized your feelings for him. you were there when his previous partners left him, when he was struggling with his powers at first—you were actually the first person he admitted about them to, he trusted you that much. you were there for him when he needed immediate medical attention, and you were there to listen to him go on and on about his inner turmoils.

you were there. you were always there. you hoped that maybe he'd open his eyes one day to the truth of it all, that no one would ever love him the way you loved him. you felt like you were owed to be with him at the end of all this, that one day, he'd ask you if you loved him, and you'd say yes, and he'd take you up in his arms and thank the stars above that you loved him back. but that kind of stuff only happens in fairy tales, and you were living in a bleak, gray reality where nice people can only go so far.

and here you were, the only one who ever really loved him, never once being seen that way by the man you loved. he was getting married to someone else, someone whose name you didn't care to remember, whose face you didn't wish to keep stowed away in the depths of your mind. you knew he was a catch, you knew a lot of people have the same dreams as you do, to have a piece of him—to bed him, to wake up with him, to hold his hand and kiss him and forget your worries as he holds you close and reassures you he's here for you—but that's all it'll ever be: dreams.

as they exchanged vows and their 'i do's', miguel sneaks a look at you and smiles widely, and it wasn't out of sympathy or friendship—it was a smile that thanked you, a smile that reassured you that even if he's married... he appreciates you. and it was only here, at this very altar, that you found yourself crying for the first time at a wedding; a wedding you would've felt joyous at, proud of for your friend that he found his somebody—if you could only stop yourself from wishing that somebody was you.

tags !! @miguelswifey04 @binibinileonara @luvstarrstruck @fiannee @fictarian @yuridopted0

[sca-rian]

home (where the heart is)

pairing: grian/scar words: 1,6k notes: i wrote this to comfort myself, and hopefully it can comfort someone else too! very silly, fluffy, kinda hurt/comfort, set in s8 after 3rd life

Scar always had a way of sneaking into people’s hearts, and, for Grian, it was especially true. 

There was something about him that could not quite be put into words: perhaps it was his charming personality, or his smile, or even just the way he portrayed himself—most likely a combination of it all. It didn’t matter, though: Grian was only trying to find excuses for his affection, however, he was still far from figuring it out.

All he knew was that he loved Scar, as passionately as one could. And sometimes the way his love burnt was too much for him to take—after all, he was not as strong as he pretended to be.

He still thought about the desert and the bloodshed every time he closed his eyes and prayed to Whoever was listening to not make him do that again. 

But Scar didn’t hold it against him—once they met again, in a new world, Scar smiled and laughed the same way he always had, even when Grian couldn’t be as witty or as responsive as it’d be expected of him. 

Grian missed Scar more than anything, but he was terrified of breaking once he had Scar on his arms again—even if breathing and hugging back this time. 

And so, for the first couple of days, he avoided being alone with Scar. Not even once. He kept his mind as occupied as it could possibly be, and ignored the growing ache on his entire body as he kept pushing himself to not think about Scar—his warmth, his touch, him. 

He kept going until he couldn’t anymore, and then, he sent Scar a short message, an invitation, a plea to meet him up as soon as possible.  

The sun was setting when Scar showed up at the house Grian was yet to finish, his coat hanging on one of his shoulders, hair pushed back from his forehead. And looking at him from so close again was almost a vivid dream. 

“I just saw your message.” Scar breathed out. “Did something happen?”  

“What—no, no it didn’t.” Grian realized his hands were slightly sweaty, and he hoped Scar didn’t notice when he rubbed them against the fabric of his pants. “I… I just wanted to see you.”

“Oh.” Scar relaxed his shoulders, and Grian just now realized he was stressed too. “I wanted to approach you before, right after we started, but—”

“I’ve been distant. I know. You shouldn’t be explaining yourself.” Grian’s hands started to fidget as he said so, and he had to fight against his urges so he could keep his eyes on Scar’s. “I missed you.”  

His word hung in the air as Scar looked back at him and then stepped closer to hold one of Grian’s hands on his own, while the other was gently placed on his cheek. Grian leaned against the touch as if he could lose it at any second, even if he dared to blink for too long.  

“I missed you too,” Scar said, voice unbelievably soft, and with a smile on his face. “Terribly so.” 

Grian sighed and closed his eyes.

“I hope you can forgive me for what I did,” he whispered. 

“I forgave you the second I gave you my sword, back on that river.” Scar wrapped his arms around Grian’s torso as he said so, pulling him closer. “I never held it against you, and you shouldn’t hold it against yourself.”    

And that was enough for Grian to shed his first tear since it all happened. He knew Scar had forgiven him, just by the look in his eyes, and knew how much he wanted things to not change—but Grian couldn’t take it as easy.

Because, the other thing he knew, is that he was the catalyst. He was the one that caused everything. 

“I’m sorry. It’s my fault we had to go through that—” 

His voice broke midway through the sentence, and he hid his face on Scar’s chest, finding his heartbeats to be the most comforting reassurance he could ever receive. Scar’s fingers soon were in Grian’s hair, and it reminded him of being home, having a warm bed to share, and no hesitancy to get lost in each other’s touch. 

“It’s okay, you don’t have to do that anymore. We’re safe.” He kissed Grian’s forehead, and it prompted him to look up, finding Scar’s caring, loving eyes watching him. “Don’t cry. You’re my everything.”   

Scar kissed away the tears running down Grian’s cheeks, as he held him tightly. And Grian smiled—because Scar was always able to get those from him. 

“My beautiful lovebird,” Scar whispered, as he kissed yet another spot on Grian’s face, but, frustratingly, not his lips. “Why are you so perfect?” 

Grian tilted his head to the right ever so slightly, the smile on his face becoming easier to keep by each second that passed: a reflection of the butterflies in his stomach. He held back the giggle that wanted to leave his mouth, and, instead blurted out a few words, quite incomprehensible at first, until he managed to say:

"You always have a way with words, don't you?"

Scar smiled.

"I've been told I'm quite flirty."

Grian raised an eyebrow at that but smiled too. 

"And may I know who you've been flirting with?" 

Scar wrapped his arms around Grian's waist, pulling him closer once again.

"Oh, so many blonde avian boys… So many of them."

And then Grian was on the tip of his toes, both hands on the back of Scar's neck—and Scar instinctively leaned down, as he always did.

"I see. Weird you keep finding those."

Their noses brushed against each other—by accident, at first, but Grian did it on purpose the second time. Then Scar was leaning in closer until their lips were touching.

Grian had kissed Scar many times before, but still, each time it happened, it was more special than the previous one. The way his entire body was filled with warmth, and he could stay there for hours as if he fitted perfectly in Scar's arms. 

And they never kissed only once, too—it always turned into more, until they had to stop to catch some air and smile at each other's red faces. 

This time, the kiss didn't last for too long, instead, Scar let their lips part, and then pressed their foreheads against each other. He breathed in and out before he spoke:

"Can I confess something?"

"Mm?"

"When you sent me that message, earlier today," he said, his smile clear in the way he sounded. "I thought you were breaking up with me."

Grian leaned back so he could stare at Scar in disbelief. He couldn't hold back a smile, though: as he always did whenever Scar said something absurd—and it happened far more frequently than it should. 

"What do you mean breaking up with you? We aren't even dating!"

"I know! But I thought you were going to say, 'Scar, I don't want you to kiss me anymore, please stop doing that'." He did his best-worst impression of Grian's voice. "And then I was going to be very, very sad."

Grian let out a genuine, loud laugh—because he would never have said that, much less in the way Scar was pretending he would.

"You'd have the other blonde avian boys—"

Scar stole a kiss from him the second Grian was about to finish his sentence.

"Don't say that, I wouldn't like them as much."

Grian thought it was quite rude to be interrupted, but he wasn't exactly going to complain, though. What he did, instead, was kiss Scar back, until they got lost in each other’s lips once more.

Eventually, Grian started to feel disappointed that his house didn't have an interior yet, much less a bed—but kissing Scar right by the front door and having him sneakily slide his hands under Grian's sweater was good enough.

This time, Grian was the one that allowed their lips to part. He looked up at Scar, searching for his eyes. 

"Scar,” he called, and hesitated for a brief second before adding: “Do you think we should be dating?"

It was clear by the way his eyes widened that the question caught Scar off-guard—he stared at Grian for a full minute, mouth agape, but not much else could be taken off of his expression.

Grian was almost starting to regret asking when he smiled. 

"I mean, I don't know! Would that change anything besides having you call me your boyfriend?” He moved one of his hands from Grian’s waist to fix a lock of his hair. "Besides, you can already call me whatever you want."

"Fine. I'll call you my wife, then."

Scar giggled, and embraced Grian once again.

“I don’t see a problem with that.” He kissed Grian’s forehead. “But if you asked me out, I wouldn’t say no.”

“I know, you deny things to me far less than you should.” He hummed contently against Scar’s chest, once the latter started ti gently caress his hair. “I might consider it, maybe do something grand and dramatic.” 

When Scar spoke, the smile in his voice was noticeable even to someone that knew him less than Grian did:

“As long as it was from you, I’d accept anything.” He gently moved his hands up Grian’s back, then down again. “Because I really, really love you.”  

Grian smiled, and his eyes started watering again, because he was finally back home. 

“I really, really love you too.”

[ultraintrovertedgryffindor]

oh beloved writer can you please write a christmas date imagine for will poulter (even though it’s still summer) just pure fluff, where the reader and will go out to like a diner and then go buy a tree for their apartment (it’s their first christmas living together) and set it up and dance to christmas music and it’s super domestic and soft and fluffy thank you bff

Of course, my love! And hey, if Christmas in July can be a thing, so can Christmas in August. And oh boy, I made this one so sweet you might get cavities, so just, beware of that.

~~~~~~~~~~

You were excited, to put it lightly. This was the first Christmas you and you partner, Will, would be having while living together. You knew it was cheesy, but you wanted it to feel special.

You made reservations at this really fancy restaurant in the fanciest part of town. A bit over the top on your part, but you wanted to make this Christmas one to remember fondly.

You still haven't gotten a tree yet, so that was on your to-do list as well. You hoped there would be some nice trees to choose from.

Some people would've probably thought you were going mad with how much you wanted everything to be perfect, and yeah, you kind of were. But you completely ignored your logic and reasoning.

You bought a really nice outfit for yourself to wear to the restaurant, Christmassy but not too Christmassy, you weren't wearing reindeer antlers or red and green bells. It was simple, may or may not to somewhat match Will's outfit that he was going to wear.

With Will's hand in yours, you walked to your car and headed to the restaurant and got there a few minutes early, which was historical for you. You smiled along with Will as you entered the warm building, a pleasant contrast from the winter cold outside. "Hi! Reservation for L/n?" You asked bubbly, the evening already going so well that you were sure nothing could dampen your spirits.

It took a minute for the hostess to check, as the place was fairly busy due to the holidays. "Um, I'm sorry, I don't see your name here."

You immediately tensed, a half a second of anger bolting through you before you simply smiled understandingly. "Can you double check, please? I'm certain it's there, I called this in a week ago." You chuckled nervously.

"I'm sorry, but there is no reservation under L/n."

Your smiled dropped, your eye involuntarily twitching a couple times before your cleared your throat. "That...that can't be right."

Will turned to you, placing a gentle hand on your shoulder. "Hey, it's okay. It happens. We can just go somewhere else." He smiled softly. You frowned in response, turning back to the hostess with pleading eyes, only to get a tight lipped smile as another apology.

You hung your head for a second, before walking out of the building at a quick pace, dead silent as you sat back in your car. Will cautiously got into the car, anxiously anticipating your eventual release of your frustration.

"What the fuck?!" You yelled into your steering wheel, causing Will to jump at the sudden outburst, even when he was expecting it. "I booked that table a week ago! Will, you were right next to me when I called the place!" You pleaded to no one, feeling defeated and pissed off. "Ugh..." You drawled out, collapsing against your seat.

Will couldn't help but chuckle at your cute pouting face, reaching over to gently massage your thigh. "It's okay, darling! This is just a minor setback. I'm sure there are other places we can go."

Yes, there were other places you could go, none of them fancy restaurants. You felt even more defeated when you had to settle for some fast food place. This is absolutely not how you wanted this evening to go.

You stared down at your burger and fries with distain. "This should be an overpriced steak at an overpriced fancy restaurant with live music, arrogant chefs and overly nice waiters who wear really fancy suits and ties." You mumbled.

Will raised an eyebrow. "That doesn't sound quite as nice as being in an almost empty fast food place with no one to bother us. And I quite like my food, I haven't found a single hair in it, so it's practically 5-star."

You rolled your eyes as you chuckled at his silliness. "At least we still get to pick out a Christmas tree, that should be fun."

"Hopefully we won't get hypothermia out in this weather. So, what type of tree are you thinking we get?"

You smiled dreamily. "I've always wanted a full, thick Frasier fir."

"Ambitious. A Frasier fir it is."

It might've been a bit too ambitious, because when you got to one of the only places in town that sold Christmas trees, there were no such trees in sight. They had all been sold out apparently. No worry, there would probably be one at another place. Nope, none there. So, you drove to the last place in town and lo and behold, no thick firs in sight.

"I think the world's against me."

Will trapped you in a hug from behind as you stood dumbfounded at the selection of trees available. Some of them could give Charlie Brown's Christmas tree a run for its money.

"What about that one?" Will pointed towards the corner of the small field you two stood in.

You laughed when you finally saw what he was looking at. The tree was a fir, but it looked so bare that you could call it a Charlie Brown tree. "You can't be serious."

"I'm deadly serious." He smirked, letting you go to jog eagerly to the pitiful looking tree. You chuckled sadly as he held onto it, the thing wasn't even as tall as Will, and even skinnier. "Ain't it a beauty?" He said in a slightly Australian accent, almost cringing at himself.

No.

"I guess."

The look of pure childlike joy on Will's face, you couldn't deny him that stupid tree. It was so small, you could probably fit it in your car, but you didn't want to clean up all the needles it would shed. It fastened to the roof of your car easily, too easily.

By the time you had set it up in your living room with Will, the tree kind of grew on you; it was like an ugly dog, so ugly it was cute, you supposed. Once it had all the decorations on, it didn't look too bad, but it still wasn't what you hoped for. It seemed this whole day you planned out to the T, nothing went the way you wanted it to, and that was a bit disheartening. What annoyed you, surprisingly, was Will's overwhelming optimism. Usually, it was endearing, but today was not one of those days where you needed optimism.

"You okay, Y/n?" Will asked intuitively.

"It's just...this day went to shit. How can you be so...perfect?"

Will blushed at your phrasing, but he knew what you meant. "I was annoyed with certain things today, the restaurant issues, for sure. But, it wasn't enough to put me in a bad mood all day. I chose to let it go so that we could have a good time, that's all."

You frowned, suddenly feeling really guilty. "I was in such a bad mood all day." You huffed, taking a seat on your couch. "I ruined this whole day..."

"No!" Will rushed over to you. "I didn't mean it like that, I-"

"I know, but you're right. I shouldn't have acted like such a child. I'm sorry."

Will smiled sadly. "Darling, you certainly did not ruin anything. None of this was your fault and you behaved how any normal person would. But even after all that happened, I still had an amazing time. We had a nice, quiet dinner. And we got our own little Charlie Brown tree." He chuckled. "Didn't you have a nice time too?"

You smiled sheepishly. "I did."

"We don't have to go to the fanciest restaurant or buy the nicest Christmas tree to have a nice time together. We could've stayed inside all day and I wouldn't have cared, just being here with you is what makes me the happiest."

You couldn't help but lean forwards to kiss him, so incredibly grateful that he was in your life. "Well, I'd say our first Christmas will be one to remember."

"Oh, it's not over yet." He added, causing you to furrow your brows in curiosity. He only winked as he walked to the other side of the room, fiddling with the record player.

"No..." You groaned playfully as Last Christmas by Wham! echoed through your apartment.

Will nodded, a cheeky smile playing on his lips. "Oh yeah, come on." He held out his hand to you, motioning for you to take it. You giggled as he started to lip sync the lyrics, shimmying his shoulders as he still waiting for you to take his hand.

"Oh my god." You blushed, finally taking his hand and him instantly pulling you up and grabbing you by the waist to pull you into a hug, violently swaying to the music. "Will!" You laughed uncontrollably.

"What? You don't like my dance moves?" He grinned.

"You're gonna break me if you keep doing that." You grinned back.

Will shook his head, toning down the fast swaying and settled into a relaxing sway, looking into your eyes fondly. "You're the best thing that's ever happened to me."

You blushed, resting your head and hiding your face on his chest, the sound of his heartbeat much better music than any Christmas song you've ever listened to.

~~~~~~~~~~

bruh...this...was so fluffy I almost died. I hope me almost dying of fluffiness was worth it to you, @poulterfilms

[lavenderbexlatte]

sitting pretty

stray kids  2.4k words female reader insert Dom!Reader x Sub!Bang Chan EXPLICIT/NSFW

🖤 warnings: dom/sub dynamics, hard dom antics, degradation, dom title “miss” sub title “puppy,” kink negotiation, collar and leash play, nipple piercings 🖤

🚨🚨 always communicate clearly and thoroughly with your partner before you add new kinks/kinds of play to the bedroom!

connect with me! / masterlist

Everyone who thinks Bang Chan likes to be in charge everywhere, including in bed, should see him now.

You know how he comes across: controlled, silly but largely responsible, self-sacrificial and humble, the oldest and most experienced in his group of shiny-eyed not-so-new industry blood. And he is all of those things. To his own detriment, you think. He thinks too much, worries too much about what he’s doing and saying and how he looks from the outside.

Here, he doesn’t have to worry at all.

Chan had arrived at your place half an hour before, in the dead of the night after a long day of schedules, exhausted to the bone but eager for some positive attention. Well. You have plenty of attention and affection to give, even if it comes out in…interesting ways.

The two of you found your way into the bedroom quickly enough. Clothes were shed, terms of the scene laid out, the traffic-light safeword system instilled like usual. And now, you’re slowing it all down, just enjoying the delicious view of your boyfriend as he blushes and fidgets his way through your latest innovation.

“Is that too tight?” you ask.

“No.”

You reach down to slip a finger under the sturdy black collar that circles Chan’s neck, making sure that there’s enough give. The digit fits easily, so you’re not worried that he’s lying and risking harm just to get more stimulation.

“I said it was okay,” he says good-naturedly, eyes still on the floor.

“Are you talking back?” you tease.

You nudge his head upward with your hand as you draw it back, and he meets your gaze. The two of you cut quite the figure in the dim light of your bedroom. He’s flushed all the way down to his toes. You know that for certain; he’s nude except for the collar, knelt on the floor at your feet as you lounge on the edge of your bed, shirt long gone and breasts bare to the room.

His hands are clasped neatly behind his back, and his cock is already standing out proudly, so hard even though you’ve barely started.

“No, miss,” he says.

“You’re gonna be my good boy, aren’t you?” you coo.

He looks mortified, self-conscious but also so, so intrigued. You raise your other hand and it amuses you how he follows it with his eyes.

His collar isn’t just an accessory tonight. Clutched in your hand, you have the end of a thin leather leash, brand-new and still creased from the way it was coiled in your toybox until Chan could come break it in with you. The other end is clipped to the thick O-ring on his collar, and as you give an experimental tug, the collar bends toward you easily, making Chan gasp as it digs into his skin.

“I’ll be good,” he agrees.

“You’d better be.”

Your hand dips down, further this time, and tweaks one of the black barbells that are pierced through each of Chan’s nipples. He jumps at your touch, and you huff out a laugh. Though the piercings have gotten much less sensitive over time, he still acts like they’re fresh during playtimes. Maybe the arousal makes the sensation more pronounced. You’re not sure. You just know how much you love it when he’s whining and squirming for you.

“Sitting pretty for me,” you say, “Listening and keeping that mouth shut, like a good boy.”

He just regards you, his ears flaming red. You’ve said much more to him in the bedroom before, you know his limits and his tells well enough. He’s not truly uncomfortable, just embarrassed at the mingling praise and backhanded compliments. You keep going.

“On a leash like a dog.”

A whine slips out of Chan’s mouth before he can stop it, his gaze back on the floor. Jackpot.

“Oh, you like that?” you ask, “You like being my dumb little puppy? Only good for listening and doing as you’re told?”

“I don’t mind it, miss,” he says, voice barely loud enough to hear.

You slide forward more on the bed, bringing Chan into easier reach. He’s so pretty like this, just waiting for you to say something, to do something, to touch him more. 

His hair is blonde now, recently bleached, all wild natural curls in a vivid near-platinum color. You tangle your fingers in his hair indulgently, right at his hairline, and tug sharply so that he has no choice but to look up at you again.

“Are you shy, puppy?” you say condescendingly.

“A little bit, miss,” he admits.

“At least you’re honest.”

You fall back onto the bed, laying down more fully and propping yourself up on your elbows so that you can still see him. At this angle, your pussy is level with his face, and you spread your legs apart as if to give him a better look. He can’t see anything, since you’re still clothed on your lower half, but you watch Chan’s throat and the collar move as he swallows.

“Eager,” you tease.

He’s blunt, “Yes.”

“Can’t do anything unless you undress me, puppy,” you encourage.

Slowly, Chan unfolds his hands from behind his back, and he comes forward to slide his hands under the waistband of your lounge pants. You lift your hips so that he can pull them over your ass and ease them down your legs. He discards the pants, taking his sweet-ass time on it, and then moves to pull your panties down, too.

When you’re bare to him, he sits back on his heels to wait for your next instructions. It makes you nearly purr with satisfaction. Such an obedient boy. He’s always pliant and eager to please, but there’s something heavier and more desperate to it tonight, with the new power dynamic that you’re exploring together.  

You tug on the leash, urging him forward. He follows, leaning into the gentle pull on his neck, until you’ve guided him between your thighs. He’s essentially crawling to you on hand and knees, and you can tell that he’s aware of exactly how he looks doing it.

“Do you want to taste?” you ask.

“Yes,” he says, immediately.

“Go ahead.”

Chan reaches out, as if to grab hold of your thighs before he begins, but you stop him.

“No hands,” you instruct.

“But…but…”

“Can puppies use their hands?” you ask.

“…No,” he says, grudging.

You can tell that the puppy play is embarrassing him as much as it’s arousing him. It interests you. Some people are really into pet play for its own sake. They like the pet names and the mindless role of it all, just happy to explore in a new way. 

But for Chan, it seems perversely satisfying in the same way that degradation can be. It’s not that he loves being your puppy, but he loves you flexing your power over him. He loves trying out anything for you, just once, with permission and tender attentive care.

Truly your best boy. Best boy in the world.

“You can always safeword,” you remind him gently.

But he shakes his head. “Green.”

“Make me cum then,” you say, “But no hands.”

You give another tug on the leash as if to motivate him, but Chan doesn’t need any more encouragement.

He dives in fully, locating your clit with practiced precision and tracing circles around it, then over it, with an experienced tongue. Still propped up on your elbows, you can see his eyes flutter shut, long lashes falling against his cheek. He really is so beautiful, still knelt there on the floor between your legs, licking and sucking and kissing at your pussy like he’s got no more important task in the world.

The embarrassed burn is starting to fade from his ears, leaving him just his usual arousal-flushed pink that you love so much. He’s relaxing as he pleasures you, quietly taking his cues from your small sounds and hips grinding into his face.

“I missed you with blonde hair,” you say, through the arousal that’s steadily building and clouding your mind.

He laughs, the sound stifled as he continues to eat you out with abandon. His arms are still neatly by his sides, from what you can see, and really, he doesn’t need them. Circling your clit, sucking the bud between his lips, fucking his tongue into you gently…he’s plenty good with just his mouth.

You decide he needs a bit more of a challenge, and you tug on his leash so that it digs into the smooth sinewy column of his pretty neck.

A strangled word that almost sounds like begging catches your attention.

Chan is, first and foremost, eager to please. If a scene is focused on you, he doesn’t beg or even ask for very much. He’s not a brat, that’s for certain. The perfect service top, giving to a fault, much the same way that he likes to be in the other areas of his life. It’s part of the reason you feel the need to take full control and spoil him so much.

But now, here, as you wrap the end of the leash around your wrist and increase the pressure on his throat, he breaks.

“More.”

It’s just a rasp, a gentle whining request that has you breathing out a laugh through your own pleasure.

“What was that?” you ask, “You want me to pull harder, hm?”

He just looks up at you, eyes shiny and slightly glazed. His tongue is still moving against you in perfect time, and you give him a dark smile.

“My poor dumb puppy, so pussy-drunk he can’t even string two words together,” you say.

You give another tug on the leash, harder than all the previous times. It’s not enough force to pull him away from your core, but it’s plenty to cut off his breathing for a split second. When you let the line go slack in your hand, Chan gasps in a breath that turns almost immediately into a helpless moan.

Satisfied with his reaction, you give him a moment to recover. But as you tune into him for any sounds or signs of discomfort, you notice a very distinct sound of skin on skin.

He’s not touching you. But if you’re not mistaken, he IS touching…

“What are you doing?” you ask sharply.

Chan freezes. His mouth stops moving, that skin-on-skin sound stops, and you can feel him huff out an anxious breath against your inner thigh.

“What are you doing?” you repeat.

“I…” he hesitates.

You sit up more fully, and Chan’s eyes are trained on your face as you look down to see him with his cock in hand, slick with precome.

“Y-you…you didn’t say I couldn’t…” he mumbles, letting go of his cock reluctantly.

“I didn’t say you could, either,” you counter sharply.

“I’m sorry, I just-”

You tut. “Does eating pussy just make you that fucking horny, puppy? So horny that you have to jerk yourself off without asking first?”

Almost imperceptibly, Chan nods.

“Use your words,” you say.

“I do love making you feel good, miss,” he says.

“That’s not what I asked.”

He hesitates. “Y-yes, eating pussy makes me that horny, miss. I couldn’t help it.”

“See, not that hard, is it, puppy? Using your words?”

Chan nods again.

You give him a soft smile, a genuine one. As much as you love pushing his buttons and making him squirm with the obscene things you can coax out of his mouth, you love him most of all. He returns it in kind, a shy little smile.

“You’re not gonna touch yourself without permission, are you?” you ask.

“No, miss.”

“Good boy.”

Another tug on the leash is all it takes to get his mouth back on you, the hot wet slide against your clit after a period of rest hitting just right, your nerves prickling with the sharp stimulation. You’re suddenly much closer than before, and you let your hips roll into the pressure shamelessly.

“Make me cum, and then we’ll see about you,” you say.

Chan mumbles a reply that you can’t quite hear, but you’re not about to make him repeat himself and risk breaking his stride. You’ve let your eyes slide closed, dedicated only to enjoying.

The response from practically choking him with the collar was absolutely delicious, so you wrap the leash another loop around your fist and tug. Chan moans, cut off into a gasp in the middle by the lack of air, and he leans his head against your thigh as he catches his breath.

“Miss, if you keep doing that…” Chan breathes.

“What, you’ll cum all over yourself like a filthy little pup?” you chide.

He just whines, and continues his careful assault on your folds, determined to make you cum before he loses his mind entirely.

Fortunately, the constant and steady feeling of his mouth on you, the obscene sounds of your wetness on his tongue, the little noises he’s making under his breath as he’s savoring you, all combine to drive you closer and closer to your high.

You peel open your eyes, and the sight of him is the final thing you need to push yourself over the edge.

Kneeling on the hardwood, blonde hair mussed and curly and wild, eyes shut, dick leaking precome against his thigh, hands once again clasped behind his back as if to fully resist the temptation to touch after he’s been told not to.

Gorgeous.

Your back bows as you cum, and you have one hand tugging at the leash and the other hand fisted in Chan’s hair, holding his mouth against you as you gasp out his name. He dutifully licks you through the tremors of it, not stopping until you’ve begun to nearly writhe away from him from the overstimulation.

“See, what did I say?” you tell him, as you catch your breath, falling fully onto your back to stretch out, “Gotta keep that mouth busy.”

“Is it my turn, miss?” he asks.

He sounds impatient, a little bit of bite leaking into his words, and you grin to yourself. You turn your torso until your spine pops, releasing some of the tension in your bones, and you swing back up into a sitting position. Chan has relaxed to sit fully on his heels, just watching you with big puppy eyes.

“You’re lucky I’m so nice,” you tease, ruffling his hair affectionately, “If you pull another stunt like that, I’ll have to put you in cuffs.”

[firstofficerwiggles]

Chapter 8: Desperately Seeking Mandos

Link to Chpt. 7, Link to Masterlist

Pairing: The Mandalorian x female reader

Rating: M/E, 18+ only

Warnings: SMUT, oral sex (F and M receiving), explicit description of sex (still romantic smut though), canonical violence

Word count: ~11K

Author’s Note: This chapter took a bit longer than I originally planned, but my semester has reached its busiest time and it’s harder to carve out as much time as I’d like to write. So, thank you for being patient with me. Also, I would like to send a special thank you to @imthemandalornow​ for being an excellent source of inspiration -- you’re the best, darling. As always, thank you all for reading and I hope you enjoy this chapter!

You sit in the passenger seat of the Razor Crest as you stare out at the blue glow of hyperspace, normally you find it pretty and rather peaceful, but today you’re sitting tense and fraught with worry. Din monitors the scanners regularly and it appears as if you have avoided detection by any Imperial vessels. Still, the feeling of unease stays with you. Din talks to you about some possible planets you could try to avoid detection, but neither of you seem very sure about what your next move should be. You’re distracted from having to decide when the comm dings with an incoming transmission.

“Princess and Mando, are you there? It’s Mistress Eira.” Her image comes in over the holo and she looks distressed.

“We’re here, Eira,” Din replies. You come over to stand close to him so you can see the holo better.

“I’m so glad to hear your voice, Mando, I was so worried for you both, something terrible has happened here,” she tells you in a serious voice. “There were ex-Imperial officers here; they killed Mistress Sigrid.”

“Oh, I’m so sorry to hear that, Eira,” you tell her with a heavy heart, “Was anyone else hurt?”

“No, but, honestly you shouldn’t shed any tears over Sigrid,” Eira sounds angry now, “She had some type of deal with them, apparently she was helping them find you. I’m calling to warn you.” You gasp at this news, you didn’t expect such treachery from Sigrid.

“Eira, do you know who any of the Imperials were?” You feel like you already know what her answer will be.

“Yes, the man that killed Sigrid is a Commander Kerrick Hoven, we have security footage of their interaction and then the shooting,” Eira confirms your worst fear, “I have to tell you, Princess, the man seems obsessed with you, the footage of him is unsettling, he was… talking to you, well, an image of you.”

“I’m sorry, Eira, I had no idea he was looking for me, I haven’t seen him in years and I never would have thought that I was putting anyone in danger,” Ok, technically you did know there were Imps after Din and the baby, but not you too. But who could have predicted that they’d find you on Angel One of all places?

“It isn’t your fault,” she says, “We’ve discovered that Sigrid has been in contact with the Empire for years making many underhanded backdoor deals.” Eira pauses for a moment and then says, “Listen, I’m going to send you the security footage, I think you should see what I mean about this man, you need to know what he’s like.”

“Alright, thank you, Eira, any information we can get about him will be helpful,” you say.

“Do you have any information about their ship?” Din asks Eira.

“Oh yes, I’ll send all that we have to you now,” she replies.

“Eira, thank you for helping us, you’re a true friend,” you tell her before she ends the holo.

A few minutes later, the files she promised come through. Din reviews the information for Kerrick’s light cruiser and confirms that it was the one the scanners detected as you were leaving Angel One. After he’s stored all the pertinent details about the ship, you know it’s time to see the second file.

As the holovid begins to play, you watch as Kerrick goes from an icy calm officer, to an angry bully, and then to a disturbing ex-lover. You clutch Din’s hand as you watch and you cringe in horror, as it continually gets worse. When Kerrick finishes his creepy soliloquy to your image, you feel ill.

“Oh, cyar’ika, come here,” Din stands and pulls you into his arms, “Don’t cry, my love, you’re safe here with me.”

You didn’t even realize there were tears streaming down your cheeks until he says that. You let your arms come around him tightly and you try to even out your breathing. Din rubs your back and murmurs soothing words to you and slowly you feel yourself calm down. With your face still pressed against him, you say,

“I had no idea Kerrick still thought about me, let alone that his feelings for me have become so twisted, ugh and he still calls me his ‘doll’, I always hated that, even when we were a couple… I can’t believe we ever were,” your voice shows your disgust.

“I’ll do everything in my power to keep him from you,” Din pledges to you.

“I know that you will, Din,” you murmur against his chest. You hear a sad little coo and look over to the child who is looking back at you with teary eyes.

“Oh sweetie,” you say, and you go over to him, pick him up, and hold him tight to your chest, “I’ll be alright,” you look back to Din, “We’re all going to be alright,” you promise.

“Maybe you should take him downstairs and try to get some more rest?” Din suggests his voice full of concern, “I’ll reach out to my contacts and work on finding us our next destination.”

You’re feeling exhausted and so you pull Din into a hug with you and the little one, before heading down the ladder and crawling into your bed. You don’t bother to put the child in his hammock and instead let him cuddle up next to you. You rub his back as you watch his tiny face and see as he slowly drifts off to sleep. Eventually your own eyes start to feel heavy and you fall asleep too.

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

Frustrated, Din ends another holocall without much to show for it. He’s been at this for almost two hours now and he still has no idea where to go, or what the best course of action will be. He knows he needs to be more patient, he’s made the calls for assistance and now he has to see what comes from them. Still though, the churning in his gut keeps him far from patience and instead brings him doubt and worry. It doesn’t help that he can still hear Kerrick’s disgusting words in his ear, calling you his ‘doll’ and promising to rid you of the ‘vile Mandalorian’. He’d never wanted to shoot someone through a holopad before, but as he watched that holovid his fingers were itching to pull out his blaster. When you first told him about Kerrick, Din had thought about tracking the man down, thinking maybe he’d help you get a little revenge on the man who broke your heart and betrayed you. Later, he realized that was just a silly fantasy to make himself feel important to you, but once Din understood how much you’d come to care for him, he had stopped thinking about your ex-lover altogether.

Din sighs, rolling his neck and stretching the muscles there. He’s wishing he could go down and join you in some sleep for a few hours, when the holo dings.

“Din Djarin, I hope you are well,” he hears as the Armorer’s image glimmers into view, “Word has reached me that you are being pursued once again by Imperial forces.”

“Yes, that is correct, I am seeking shelter for a few days to formulate a plan,” Din replies.

“The Covert has regrouped and joined with another,” the Armorer tells him, “You will join us here and we will assist you in your strategy.”

“I- I do not wish to endanger the Covert, I should not come to you,” Din responds, his tone regretful as he remembers all that the Covert has sacrificed already on his behalf.

“By its very nature the Covert is always in danger, it is a fact that we accept,” she states calmly, “We are gar vode, your brethren, and we welcome you in your time of need. We are always here for you. This is the way.”  

“This is the way.” Din responds and he enters the coordinates she gives him into the nav. As he does this, he tells her about you and the latest trouble that has managed to find you both. Din feels comforted by the Armorer’s genuine interest in you as he tells the story, and he greatly appreciates her willingness to help you.

Feeling a sense of relief Din after his conversation with the Armorer ends, he switches on the autopilot and heads downstairs. When he sees you and the child sleeping so soundly, Din feels a sense of contentment wash over him. As he snuggles up next to you in the bed, he knows that he’ll do whatever it takes to keep you both safe and that it will be worth it no matter the cost.

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

When Din explains that you’re heading to his Covert, you feel reassured at first because you know how formidable your Mandalorian is and you can’t think of safer place to be than surrounded by a whole group of them. Nonetheless, it dawns on you that this is Din’s family that you’ll be meeting and you find yourself wishing that you were getting to meet them under better circumstances. You also start to feel a tad nervous about making a good first impression.

The Covert is currently located on Dol’har Hyde, a planet almost entirely covered in dense forests. When you land in a clearing that is just large enough for the Razor Crest, you wonder if the coordinates were correct because you can’t see any type of settlement or structures of any kind. You follow Din down a narrow forest path listening to the birds singing and enjoying the natural beauty of the place. It’s soothing and if you didn’t know any better, you’d think the planet was uninhabited. The further you go down the path, the thicker the forest becomes and it seems as if you are walking in twilight as the multitude of leaves above you block out more and more of the sun’s rays. Finally, the path appears to end and you see the opening of a cave.

“This is it,” Din says, and you look up to see a small carving of a mythosaur in the stone entrance. You get no more than five steps into the dark cavern when two Mandalorians appear out of nowhere asking you to identify yourselves with blasters raised. Different from Din, their armor is decorated with paint, one in orange and the other in blue. Once they recognize Din, they lower their weapons and greet you.

“Welcome home, Djarin,” the Mando in blue says as he thumps Din’s pauldron in greeting, “Still getting into trouble I see.”

“Vizsla, still a pain in the ass I see,” Din replies curtly.

“I’m afraid the trouble is my fault,” you speak up, not wanting Din to take the blame for your past catching up to you.

“Well hello,” Blue Mando welcomes you with a pleasant tone, “The Armorer mentioned Djarin was bringing someone with him, who knew you’d be so pretty.”

His compliment surprises you, and you stutter out, “O-Oh, thank you.”

Din makes a grunting sound as he places his hand on your lower back and steers you past the two guards, “We’re going to see the Armorer now,” he informs them.

“I’ll take you to see her,” Orange Mando offers.

“Thank you,” Din responds.

“I guess I’ll see you later then, pretty one, you too, Djarin,” the Blue Mando chuckles as you walk deeper into the cave.

As your eyes adjust to the dimmer lighting of the cave’s passageway you can see that there are drawings on the walls, many featuring Mandalorian helmets. They look like they could be children’s sketches given the simplicity and the height of most of them. It makes you smile, knowing that you’ll be somewhere with families, maybe your own little one will be able to make a few friends while you’re here. Eventually, you can hear the sounds of other people and when the passage opens up to a large room in the cave you see a comforting and homey site.

This part of the cavern has a small pool in the middle and it creates a beautiful soft glow as the water reflects back the artificial lights that have been arranged throughout the space. Around the room, there are small groups of people chatting with each other, playing sabacc, helping children with schoolwork, polishing armor, and performing all sorts of small domestic tasks. It makes you smile to yourself. Everyone here wears helmets, including the children, and all of the adults wear armor too. You notice a few helmets turning towards you as you move past the groups and you wonder if you must seem odd to them with your face uncovered.

There is a second passageway on the other side of the room and you follow Orange Mando down this next path. As you walk, you can feel a hot wind run through the tunnel and you hear a metallic clanking in an almost rhythmic pattern. The noise grows louder and soon you reach a warm room where the Armorer is working. You are mesmerized by her striking golden helmet and the graceful but powerful movements she makes as she forges a piece of beskar armor. When she sees Din, the child, and you, she pauses in her work and nods in your direction. Din motions for you to sit on a stone bench and the three of you sit patiently as she finishes her work.

“I see your foundling is doing well,” the Armorer comments, “And this is the caregiver.” She looks over at you and you offer her a smile and a nod. She rests her tools on her workbench and comes over to you. Din stands and you mirror his movement. The Armorer offers you her hand and welcomes you to the Covert.

“Din Djarin tells me that you are a very special woman, it is clear you have been a positive influence in his life.” The Armorer speaks in such a deliberate way that you feel honored to hear such praise from her.

“Thank you, I’ve tried to do my best to help him and we’ve grown very close, but I feel such regret that it’s my fault we’re in trouble now,” you admit to her and you know your face shows the guilt you’re feeling.

“It isn’t your fault,” Din corrects you, “You have no control over Kerrick’s actions.”

“Din is correct,” the Armorer affirms his statement, “You are not responsible for the actions of an evil man who seeks to control you. We will do all that we can to assist you. This is the way.”

“This is the way,” Din repeats.

“Thank you, I am beyond grateful for your help, and for making me welcome with your tribe,” you tell her.

“You are welcome,” she responds, “I must ask now though to speak to Din alone with the other members of our tribe, if you do not mind.”

“Of course.”

You hear footsteps behind you and you see that several other Mandalorians have joined you. Several of them give you a nod in greeting in your direction and a woman with purple armor steps forward.

“I can take you and the child to the place where you’ll be staying while you’re here,” she offers. You turn to follow her, but before you can, Din reaches out to give your hand a squeeze and says, “I’ll find you later, cyar’ika.”

Din watches you leave and then turns back to the Armorer, feeling a little nervous now that he is alone with her and those who remain in their tribe. His own feelings of guilt rise within him as he looks around the room and realizes how few their numbers have become.

In a low voice full of shame and remorse he says, “I am sorry for Nevarro. I can never thank you enough for helping me and the child, but I--”

“Have nothing to apologize for,” Paz interrupts him in a gravelly voice laden with emotion. Din turns his head toward him in surprise.

“We were honored to help you and we would make the same choice again,” a female member of the tribe speaks up.

“It was our duty and our privilege to fight alongside of you in Nevarro,” another tribe member says.

“You are ner vod, an important member of our tribe and we are here for you,” yet another person tells him.

One by one each tribe member speaks up to reassure Din of his place in the tribe and to express that none of them hold him responsible for the attack on the Covert in Nevarro. His eyes fill with tears and he can feel them slowly gliding down his face in response to their acceptance and love for him. He’s felt so disconnected from the tribe since being forced to flee but being with them here now, and hearing their words of support makes him feel like part of a family again. It is so much more than he could have asked for and it means everything to him.

“Th-thank you,” Din chokes out when the last person has spoken, he wants to say more but his emotions are causing a tightness in his throat and it’s all he can get out now.

“Now, let us discuss the threat against your companion,” the Armorer says.

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

Purple Mando leads you to a small room with modest furnishings where you are able to stow your bag of belongings. She asks if you want to rest, but you tell her that you’d rather spend time with the others if that’s alright.

“I know that little one would love a chance to run around a bit too and maybe play with some other children, if he can,” you suggest.

“That sounds like a nice idea, and you can meet some of my tribe members.” Her voice has a pleasant tone and her friendly demeanor puts you at ease.

When you’re back in the larger cavern that seems to serve as the common room for the Covert, she introduces you to a group of her friends.

“Look at your little foundling, what a cutie he is,” one of the women coos at the kiddo.

“He’s a sweetie,” another one says, “He’s welcome to go play with the other children, here, I’ll introduce him to my two boys.”

“Thank you,” you reply and you put the child down so he can toddle over to the other little children who are playing with blocks. “Be sure to share, buddy,” you call after him.

“Oh, is he in the ‘mine’ phase?” Purple Mando asks you.

“It’s hard to tell really, it’s more that he doesn’t have much time to spend with other children so he’s used to all the toys being his,” you explain.

“Ah, I see, well I’m sure he’ll be just fine,” she says in a reassuring manner.

“So, will you tell me a little about your tribe? I’ve only ever met the one Mandalorian.” You’re really curious to know more about their way of life.

“Sure, we’re happy to tell you anything you want to know.” Her friends make positive sounds and nod their heads in agreement. “But you also have to be sure to tell us all about you and your Mandalorian,” she says with a small chuckle.

You agree with a smile, and the women proceed to tell you about the tribe. They’ve been here in this Covert for quite some time now. On the other side of the cavern system there is a settlement where they can go for various necessities. Unlike Nevarro, there is less threat here so they are able to leave the Covert in small groups. The adults in the tribe have one of four principle jobs. The protectors assist with guarding the Covert and training the others in fighting techniques. The hunters are responsible for bringing in fresh meat from the surrounding forest. The crafters make weapons, vibroblades and other knives in particular, that they sell to help earn income for the tribe. Finally, the caregivers are responsible for the domestic tasks including maintaining a large garden to grow food for the tribe. There are also a few members who have special jobs like the tribe’s two healers, the Armorer, and the beroya, a bounty hunter, like Din.

“Although we hear your beroya is more skilled than ours,” one of the women says, hinting a little at the subject of Din.

“Well, he isn’t one to brag, but he always seems to be successful in catching his quarry, at least as far as I’ve seen,” you explain but you can’t keep a note of pride out of your voice.

“His tribe has only been with us for a few months, but we have heard stories about him,” Purple Mando tells you, “And they were very pleased to hear that you were coming to stay with him for a bit.”

“Really?” This surprises you because you wouldn’t have believe that Din’s tribe would give too much thought to you seeing as they’ve never met you.

“Mmhmm, yes, apparently he’s never been serious about a woman before, so they’re all wondering if he’s finally ready to settle down,” she laughs lightly as she says this and tips her helmet in your direction.

“Oh I- I don’t know about that,” you stumble over your words a bit, feeling flustered at the implication, “He um hasn’t said… I mean, I wouldn’t assume anything… I-”

“Don’t let her tease you,” another woman pipes up, “She’s a hopeless matchmaker.”

“Oh c’mon, what can I say, I just adore love and a riduurok,” Purple Mando giggles.

“What’s a riduurok?” you ask.

“A marriage ceremony,” she tells you, “When two people become each other’s riduur, or spouse.”

“Well, I appreciate learning new words in Mando’a,” you say with a chuckle, “But I don’t think there’s going to be a riduurok any time soon, unless one of you are getting married this week?”

The women laugh with you and you feel a contentment that you haven’t felt in days, it feels like you can let your guard down with them. As much as you enjoy spending time with Din, you’ve missed having friends. The afternoon passes quickly as the women fill you in on the gossip in the tribe and you watch the child playing happily with the other kids.

When Din returns to your side with several members of his tribe, he introduces you to many of them although all without names as per their tradition so you continue to refer to them in your mind by the colors of their armor. Even though some of the colors are repeated, the patterns of the paint vary sufficiently that you can easily tell everyone apart.

One woman with pink armor seems very chatty and interested in you. She asks you all about your work with languages.

“Oh, how did you know about that?” you ask surprised.

“Din told us of course,” she says pleasantly, “He’s very sweet on you and talked at length about your many accomplishments while we were catching up.” As she comments on Din’s affectionate side, she nudges him slightly with her elbow and it’s clear she’s teasing him. It’s cute and it reminds you of the way you used to tease your brother about girls.

“I’ll let you in on a little secret,” you whisper conspiratorially to her, “I’m sweet on him too.” You hear Din let out a chuckle at that and he rests his hand on your knee. He’s relaxed here in a way you’ve not seen before and it’s nice.

“Oh, but yes, languages have always intrigued me, I love figuring out how they work and learning about new ones,” you explain, “I’ve even learned several words in Mando’a today.”

“Which ones?” Pink is curious to know.

“Well, beroya, talking about Din, of course,” you say with a smile, “And then a few related to families, ad’ika, aliit, and buir, oh and then riduur and riduurok too.” You’re just happy you remembered all the new words.

“Hmm, riduur and riduurok, talking more about Din, I suppose?” she giggles.

“Oh! No! I- I didn’t mean in reference to him, it- it just came up…” you trail off embarrassed to have implied such a thing. You’re thankful that Din is deep in conversation with one of the other men and doesn’t appear to have heard that.

“Don’t worry, I’m only playing,” Pink reassures you, “I’m just so happy with my own riduur. It’s only been eight months and I’m already expecting.” She tells you this excitedly and places a hand on her lower abdomen tenderly where you can see a small baby bump.

“Congratulations!” you beam at her with delight, “That’s so exciting.” You ponder her news for a moment and then ask, “What’s it like? Being pregnant, I mean? I’ve always been curious.”

“Well, at first I just felt really tired and I could throw up at a moment’s notice,” she explains, “But now, I’m further along and I just feel really happy and excited. Plus my riduur is just so proud and happy too.” She points to a man in black armor. Then she leans in closer to you and drops her voice low as she whispers, “And honestly, the sex has never been better. You’d think he was trying to get me pregnant twice.”

You laugh merrily along with her, not realizing that you’re drawing Din’s attention back to you when you pipe up to say, “I’ve always fantasized about being pregnant, it seems like such a special time, knowing that a new life is growing within you.” Your face takes on a dreamy, wistful look as you say this to her. But then thinking about your reality, you say, “I guess it’s just a far-off wish, but it’s fun to dream about it.”

Din’s helmet snaps to look directly at you when you say this, and, as it turns out, so do several other curious helmets. Something deep inside Din’s chest pulses with a desire to make your wish come true. Suddenly he can see what you would look like round and swollen with his child, the beautiful glow you would have, the tender way you would look at him when he’d caress your belly, and so much more. He wants to say something, anything to you, but he can’t think of the right words, especially not in front of so many people. Happy giggles from you and your new friend distract him from these thoughts.

Pink giggles at your statement and then leans in to stage whisper, “You should be careful saying that around a bunch of Mandalorians, one of them might take you up on it and put a baby in you tonight.”

Her statement is rather blunt, but it just makes you laugh along with her. After the stress you’ve been under all day, you’re enjoying making a new friend and just giggling along with her. As nervous as you were about meeting Din’s tribe, you are so thankful to be here now.

“So Djarin, your woman wants a baby,” Paz ribs Din, “You know if you’re not up to the task, I’d be more than happy to oblige her.”

“Shut up, di’kut,” Din mutters at him.

“Vizsla has a point; she is a beauty, I’m surprised you’re not trying harder,” another guy sitting next to him gets in on the teasing.

“Not you too,” Din replies and gives the guy a shove.

“Maybe we should introduce ourselves, get to know her,” Paz says cheekily, then walks over closer to where you’re seated. “Hey, mesh’la, how are you doing this evening?” he nods his helmet in your direction.

“I’m pretty sure he means you,” Pink snickers.

Not wanting to be impolite, you smile kindly as you answer, “I’m having a nice time; everyone has been so welcoming.”

“That’s good; we all want you to feel welcome.” He props his knee up on a rock formation and then leans his arm down on it so he can be closer to where you are. “Maybe later you’d like a nice tour of the caverns? I know some really nice spots.”

Din stands up at this and positions himself between you and Blue Mando, “You want to ask her that again, Vizsla?”

“I dunno, maybe she’d rather see some Mandalorian sparring? Let her see how a real man fights,” Paz jeers at Din.

“Why not? I’m sure she’d enjoy watching me kick your ass.” Din taunts back.

“Whoa, guys, there’s no need for this,” you try to interrupt, but the air is thick with tension and testosterone. This seems to be an older dispute, and you’re just a convenient spark to reignite the flames of the argument. You’re worried that they might actually start fighting when the child comes to your rescue.

The little guy toddles over carrying a big piece of paper in his claws. He wants to show Din and you a picture that he’s drawn.

“Hi, buddy!” You purposely step between Din and Blue Mando to reach down and pick him up. “What do you have here?”

It’s a drawing of a stick figure family with flowers and what looks to be frogs surrounding them. One of the figures has a helmet-shaped head, another has hair that looks a lot like yours, and the third little figure has big green ears, so it’s clear that he’s drawn his own little family of Din, you, and himself.

“This is so good, buddy,” Din tells him and then he leans over to pat the kid on the head.

“You did so great, kiddo!” You say enthusiastically, feeling a bit relieved too. You lean in and kiss the child on the forehead, and then whisper, “Good job calming down your papa too.” He coos at you in his happy way and you could swear he understands everything you say to him.

Just then, a soft gonging sound rings out across the cave. You watch as the other children scramble back towards their parents and little groups begin to funnel out of the room.

“What’s happening?” you ask Pink.

“It’s time for the evening meal. The food is prepared collectively, and each family goes to collect their portion before heading to their private quarters to eat. Follow me and we’ll get you three all set up.”

You follow her and the rest of the Mandalorians towards another large room with a buffet of food. It all smells delicious and you didn’t realize how hungry you’d become. The child starts wiggling in anticipation when he sees the feast before him. He starts making little whiny sounds and grabby hands towards the dishes.

“It’s ok, sweetie,” you tell him, “We’ll get our food very soon, I promise.”

Din moves forward to begin collecting your dinner and he quickly scoops up a bun that had started to mysteriously float upward and hands it to the child so he won’t get too fussy. “Don’t get too impatient, kiddo,” he says gently reproaching the child.

You retreat to your appointed room with your meal and once you make sure the child can’t peek over at Din, you’re able to enjoy the food. For a while, you simply eat in a comfortable silence. There’s been so much going on today, it’s nice to be here where it’s more tranquil and you have a moment to yourselves that doesn’t feel as stressful as early in the day.

“I’ve really enjoyed meeting everyone here, they’re so caring and nice,” you tell Din, “Pink and Purple did a great job of introducing me to lots of people and teaching me about the Covert.”

“Pink and Purple?” He asks, confused.

“Oh, well, I don’t know anyone’s names so I’ve just been referring to them by the color of their armor in my head, Pink, Purple, Orange, Blue, you know?”

Din laughs at this and says, “You’re so adorable, cyar’ika.”

“Thanks, darling,” you say laughing a little with him, it is rather funny, “Seriously, I’ve felt so safe and at home here, even though it’s only been a few hours.”

“It makes me happy to hear you say that, cyar’ika,” he responds, “I hope you don’t mind but I told my tribe a lot about you, I wanted them to know how hard you’ve worked to take care of the child and keep him safe.”

You feel a fluttery sensation in your chest at his words, “I’m honored that you wanted to tell them about me.”

“Of course I wanted to,” Din says, “You’re very important to me.”

“You’re important to me too, Din,” you admit softly, trying not to get too choked up as you share your feelings with him. You hear him come closer to you and then he’s placing his arms around you, hugging you to his chest. His helmet is still off and you can feel him nuzzle his face into your neck and hair.

You sit like that for a while, just enjoying the closeness; you’re holding the child in your arms and Din is holding you in his. After a bit, you start to rock the child a little and hum a little song to him. He’s had a long day after running around with the other children and now that his belly is full, you can see he’s getting drowsy. As his big eyes start to blink longer and longer, you get up to put him in his little pod for the night. When you close it, you can feel Din has followed you and is standing right behind you.

“I have something for you,” he says, his voice a little gruff, but modulated so you know he’s wearing the helmet again. You turn and face him and you see he’s holding out a small leather pouch for you to take.

You smile broadly at him, “A gift for me?”

“Yes,” he confirms.

You untie the strings of the pouch and reach inside to pull out a necklace with a heart pendant made of beskar. It glimmers in the light and you can see there is a mythosaur skull imprinted on the heart. You hold it up and smile, touched by the gesture.

“Oh, it’s beautiful, Din,” you breathe out in delight, “Thank you so much. Will you help me put it on?”

You hand him the necklace and then turn away so he can clasp it at the nape of your neck. He tries to do it first with his gloves on, but then you hear him mutter, “Kriffing gloves,” followed by some shuffling before you feel his bare fingers against your skin as he finally secures the clasp for you.

“How does it look?” You ask him.

“Beautiful, just like you,” he says, before adding, “It’s made from a piece of my armor.”

“It is?” you gasp a little, “So it’s like I’m wearing a little piece of you?”

“Mmhmm,” he nods.

“Then I love it even more,” you tell him truthfully. “If I close my eyes, can I thank you with a kiss?”

“Absolutely,” Din says. You let your eyes flutter closed and then you feel his lips on yours, kissing you softly and slowly. It’s so sweet and romantic, you feel like you want to swoon. His tongue comes out to brush lightly against your bottom lip and you open your mouth letting him deepen the kiss. You pull him closer to you, running your hand up into his hair as you tug lightly and shift against him to position yourself to an even better angle. This rouses something in Din and he kisses you more passionately as his hands run down your back to your hips before pulling you flush to his body. After a bit he breaks away from your lips, only so he can trail kisses down your neck and throat, traveling further down until he kisses your chest right above the pendant.

“I’m glad you love the necklace,” Din says and you can feel his breath on your chest as his fingers lightly play with the pendant, “It… it means a lot to me, giving this to you means I feel attached to you… it means that you have my heart.”

“Oh, Din,” your voice fills with emotion, “You have my heart too.”

“Then I don’t need anything else in the galaxy, cyar’ika.” After those sweet words, Din moves back up to give you another scorching kiss.

When he pulls away this time, he rests his forehead on yours and asks, “Did you think to grab the sleep mask before we left?”

You giggle a little at that and say, “Yes, I did. It’s in the outside pouch of my bag.”

He kisses you again, “Can I get it?”

“Yes, but, do you think it will be ok with the little one right in the room with us? I mean I know he’s in his pod…” you trail off, really wanting things to continue but a little torn given the sleeping accommodations tonight.

“His pod is soundproofed, but I’m sure we can be quieter if we try,” Din replies, “But if you’re not comfortable with that, we can just sleep.”

“Well, if you think we can be quieter,” you reply honestly, “I’d rather keep going.”

“Me too,” Din says and in almost an instant, he’s back by your side slipping the mask over your eyes and kissing you soundly again.

“Cyar’ika, can I undress you?” he asks.

“Yes, please,” you respond. Gently, Din removes each piece of your clothing. He is unhurried as he reveals more of you to him, almost as if you’re a present and he’s savoring the unwrapping. When he reveals a patch of skin, he pauses to kiss you there, sometimes letting his hot tongue slip out and taste you. Each time he does it, you melt a little more into his touch. When you’re completely naked, he guides you to the bed so you can lie back. He kisses your lips one more time before telling you, “Let me remove my clothing now, I’ll be just a bit.”

You wait in anticipation, and when you hear him moving closer to the bed again, you’re surprised when you feel him kissing your toes.

“Din!” you yelp in surprise.

“Shh, cyar’ika,” he murmurs, “We’re supposed to be quieter.”

“You surprised me,” you explain, but in a softer voice this time.

You feel his lips again on your feet as he starts to kiss his way to your ankle and then up your calf. He’s gradually parting your legs as he works his way up higher and higher. You can guess his destination as he places a kiss high up on your inner thigh, but then you’re surprised again when he pulls away. When you feel him kissing your other foot, you realize he’s repeating the whole process on the other leg this time. He’s taking his time kissing and tasting your skin, and it feels so good that it’s turning you on more than you can believe. This time when Din gets to your inner thigh, you’re trembling in anticipation. As he lingers, you can’t take it anymore and you start to beg him.

“Din, please,” you whine out so softly it’s almost a whimper.

“Do you want more, cyar’ika?” he says against your skin and he lets his tongue caress the very top of your thigh. It’s so good, but it’s still too far away.

“Yes, please, higher.” This time it is a whimper and you don’t even care just so long as it gets him to finally kiss and lick where you need him most.

“Well, when you ask so nicely…” Din finally brings his tongue to your pussy and licks a path from the bottom all the way up to the very top where he places a kiss directly on your clit.

You let out a soft mewling sound and he says, “Was that better?”

“Please, more,” you manage to get out in a breathy voice.

“Anything for you, cyar’ika,” Din says before licking you again in the same deliberate manner. He keeps this up, licking in long strokes but very slowly, driving you completely crazy with desire. You start to try to grind your hips against his tongue but his hands come up to hold you still.

“You’re so eager,” he chuckles, “But be patient, my love; I’ll make it good for you.” With that comment, he pushes his tongue inside you as his fingers come up to draw light circles around your clit. It feels incredible and you let out a shaky moan as he finally starts to give you more. His tongue and his lips start to explore you in earnest, tasting and sucking on your most sensitive parts, turning you into a moaning mess. It an attempt to be quieter, you hold your hand up to your mouth to muffle the sounds because you just can’t stop making them.

“Mmm, that’s a sound I like to hear,” Din says between licks, “Reminds me of when you were first on the ship with me, late at night, I’d hear you trying to be quiet as you touched yourself.”

“You heard that?” you manage to gasp out, you’d be a little embarrassed but considering where his head is now, you don’t care.

“Yes, and I lived for it,” he tells you before diving back in and picking up his pace. You keen up into his mouth as he sucks hard on your clit, like it’s the last thing he’ll ever taste, and you feel your thighs starting to quake. When he pushes two fingers deep inside you, you can feel yourself starting to tighten around them. Your pleasure builds and just when it seems like you can’t take anymore, you feel yourself coming apart all over his face and hand.

You’re still panting when he makes his way up your body and then pulls you into another passionate kiss. His enthusiasm for you is humbling, but truthfully, you feel the same way, like you can never get enough of him. You break the kiss to move down his body now; you place hot, open-mouthed kisses all down his torso. You stop at both of his nipples to tease them with your tongue and nip at them lightly. Now it’s his turn to moan as you let your hands and mouth guide you lower and lower.

“Where are you g-going, cyar’ika?” Din grounds out, his voice stuttering as your tongue delves into his navel.

“Mmmm, can’t you guess, my love?” And with that, you let your mouth envelope the head of his cock and swirl your tongue all around it. Din lets out a loud groan that is almost a whine and you smile to yourself.

“Now who needs to be quiet?” you tease before returning to let your tongue caress his shaft all over with long, wet licks.

“Aaaahhh, just feels so fucking good,” Din breathes out, his voice low.

“I’m going to make you feel amazing,” you promise, and you return to the head, rubbing your tongue across the sensitive spot just underneath before sucking him into your mouth. You go about halfway down this time before pulling off him again. You return to taunting him with licks, this time running your tongue over his balls before you resume sucking him. You repeat this teasing process, each time sucking him deeper into your mouth until you start to hum to open your throat as you begin to reach his base. When you finally take all of him, he’s practically shuddering at the sensation. You take pity on him and instead of continuing to tease, you hollow your cheeks and begin to glide up and down, showing him how much you want to please him, wanting to give him the same intense pleasure he brought you a few moments ago. You can hear him doing his best to muffle his moans as he shakes and writhes underneath you. You can tell he’s trying not to thrust into your mouth, but he can’t help bucking his hips a little and when he does, it causes your throat to constrict around him increasing his enjoyment. You can tell he’s starting to get very close, but before you can get him there, he’s pushing you away.

“No, no, wait, I… I don’t want to yet…” Din gasps.

“Are you sure? I wanted you to finish in my mouth,” you explain, still eager to resume.

Din groans a little, but moves to haul you back up against him, “If I do that right now, I don’t think I’ll be able to make love to you anymore tonight, and I want that more.”

“Oh, Din,” your voice catches a little, “I do want you to keep making love to me, but sometime, I want you to let me finish you with my mouth.”

“Yes, sometime,” he kisses you to seal the promise. Din rolls you onto your side so that your back is flush against his chest, “I want to take you like this, cyar’ika,” he says. His hands are already maneuvering your legs so he can slide himself between them, and then you feel his steely erection rubbing deliciously between your folds.

“Yes, Din… aaah, like this is perfect.” Your breath hitches in your chest as he positions himself to enter you.

“Tell me,” he says.

You reach back to cradle his head with your hand and bring him closer to you, “Take me like this, Din, I want you… I need you.”

With that, he thrusts into you in one swift motion causing all the breath in your body to push out in a gasp. As he moves within you, he winds his arm around you tight holding you close against his chest. It’s like there’s no space between you at all. His mouth attaches itself to your neck where he’s biting and sucking a new mark into your skin. You can feel him everywhere and it’s overwhelming in the best way.  It doesn’t take long for you to feel the stirring of your climax again and you start to struggle to stay quiet. In this position, every thrust hits on your most pleasurable spot deep inside you and it’s taking all that you have not to scream out Din’s name. You know he must be getting closer to his peak too, as he’s also starting to groan and grunt more.  

“Are you close, cyar’ika?” Din asks you desperately and he drops his hand to your clit to rub fast circles there. All you can get out is a whimper and a shaky breath, as you start to feel the waves of your orgasm lapping at you. Din doubles his efforts and starts to beg you, “Please, cyar’ika, please… I’m so close… want you to come first… need you to… oooh, please.”

Hearing him plead with you like that is all you need to send you over the edge and almost as soon as your inner muscles begin to flutter around him, Din is following right along with you. He holds you as tight as he possibly can as he pumps himself into you and bites down on your shoulder to keep himself from crying out. You’re so stunned by the sensation you feel like you might black out from the pleasure. You’re shuddering from little aftershocks of bliss when Din starts to speak to you again but he’s speaking in Mando’a and you can’t fully understand what he’s saying.

“Ni kar’tayl gar darasuum, ner cyar’ika,” he says reverently and turns you towards him so he can kiss you fully.

When he breaks the kiss, he speaks again, only this time in Basic, “I love you, my sweetheart.”

Your heart skips a beat and then you tell him, “I love you too, Din.” His lips find yours again in the sweetest, most tender kiss.

When you break apart the next time, you ask him, “Will you say it in Mando’a again?” He does and you carefully repeat it back to him. You barely get the last syllable out and he’s kissing you again, as if he can never kiss you enough. You kiss him back fervently trying to pour all of your love into it, wanting him to understand just how much you love him.

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

The next two days pass pleasantly in the Covert. Din feels pleased that you fit in so well with everyone and it warms his heart to see how eager you are to learn more about his culture. It fills him with a new hope for the future, and he lets himself daydream about being able to return to the tribe permanently with you. Still though, Din can’t ignore the danger that you’re in and each hour that passes makes him anxious that the Imps could be headed here right now. In discussing the predicament with his tribe, Din was able to come up with a plan to keep you on the move and, hopefully, to find a stronger Covert that could help you defeat Kerrick. While his tribe and the others in this new Covert offered up their fighters, Din refused to accept based on their already reduced numbers. Now each moment that passes, his unease at being caught builds. It’s on this third evening, that he brings up his worries with you.

“I think we should leave tomorrow,” Din suggests, and you can hear the concern in his voice.

“You don’t think we’re safe here?” You’d been feeling so much better since arriving, that you’d hoped you’d be able to stay longer.

“It isn’t that-- I… I don’t think we’re safe anywhere, really,” he pauses and looks down at the ground when he says, “I’m worried that if we stay any longer, I’m endangering the Covert again, like Nevarro.”

You know all about Nevarro now as the other night the Armorer and the rest of Din’s tribe spoke about it, wanting both you and the other Mandalorians to understand more about that part of their history, and as a way of honoring those who lost their lives during the battle. Din was very quiet though as the story was being told, opting to simply grip your hand tightly and listen. You could tell that he still felt responsible for the loss of the Nevarro Covert, despite his tribe’s endeavors to show everyone that only the Imperial forces were to blame.

“I understand,” you reassure Din, “We can leave tonight if you think we should, it won’t take long to get our things together.”

“Can we? I think it would be the best option.” You can hear a note of relief in his voice as you agree with him and let him know that you’ll start packing right away.

“I just need to speak to the Armorer again,” Din tells you, “I shouldn’t be too long.”

When he finds the Armorer at her forge, she appears to have been expecting him. He doesn’t know how she does it, but it’s almost as if she can anticipate his thoughts, it’s always been that way with her. He wonders for a moment if she might share some of the child’s powers.

“Din Djarin, I have the pieces you have requested,” she speaks in her carefully measured voice.

“Thank you, I appreciate that you’ve worked to complete them so quickly for me,” he responds and watches as she moves to collect two small leather pouches. When he opens the first, he pulls out another beskar pendant; this time it is a mudhorn, the exact match to the one on his pauldron. The second pouch contains three rings, one is a ring of yours that Din swiped from your jewelry collection, and the other two are matching bands of beskar, one in the same size as your ring and the other sized to fit his own finger.

“I see that she wears the heart pendant with joy,” the Armorer tells him, and then asks, “When will you ask her to join your clan?”

“I haven’t decided yet,” Din admits a bit bashfully, “But I want to be prepared to ask her when the time is right.”

“You have the blessing of the tribe, if you should want it,” she declares to him, “Your woman has mandokarla and we will always welcome her.”

“Thank you, that means so much to me,” Din replies gratefully.

“You have decided to leave us,” the Armorer states, again already seeming to know his thoughts before he shares them.

“Yes, I think it is for the best.” His voice can’t contain its concern, but he knows she understands as she nods to him.

“You must do what is best for your clan. This is the way,” she confirms.

“This is the way.”

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

A few days later and you’re back in hyperspace. You’ve been following the plan that Din’s tribe helped him design, stopping at some remote outposts in hopes of finding other Mandalorians. So far, the information the Covert shared with Din has been reliable and you both feel confident in your efforts. A sudden pinging on the dash draws Din’s attention and he sees that a transmission is coming in.

“Brother, we heard you are seeking assistance,” a strong voice speaks out into the cockpit, but no holo accompanies it.

“That depends on who’s offering,” Din responds carefully.

“Our Covert has heard that you need warriors to battle against some Imps,” the voice says, “We are willing to help you in that endeavor.”

“How did you come to hear that?” Din questions the voice.

“We are in communication with many other Coverts, and heard of your needs through our contacts,” the voice explains.

Din stays quiet as he thinks; the caller’s explanation seems logical but trusting a disembodied voice also seems a bit naïve. He continues to hesitate in his response when the voice speaks again.

“We also have information about where you can find the Jedi.”

“What are your coordinates?” Din asks, his mind made up. If they know about the Imperials and the Jedi, then they must have spoken to his Covert.

“We’re transmitting them now,” the voice informs him.

“Thank you, for being willing to help us,” Din says graciously.

“Ibic mando’kar,” the voice states.

“This is the way,” Din replies before ending the call.

As soon as the transmission is cut off, you speak up, “Do you think they’re the Mandalorians we’ve been searching for?”

“They must be, I know they’re an older sect and it makes sense that they’d say ‘Ibic mando’kar’ for ‘This is the way’,” he explains to you, “I think they can help us.”

You’re about to ask him more about these Mandalorians and what he knows, but you’re stopped by the child who has started fussing and crying. You go over to pick him up, but he’s worked himself up into a real tantrum, and no matter how much you try to soothe him, he won’t calm down.

“Are you hungry already, buddy?” You pull out some snacks from your pocket for him, but he shoves them away and cries harder. You know Din needs to focus on piloting the ship to the new coordinates so you descend to the hull with the poor little guy. You try rocking him, singing to him, even a warm bath, but nothing seems to help. He doesn’t seem to be in any visible discomfort so you simply sit and hold him hoping that ultimately your presence will show him that everything is ok. Eventually, he’s exhausted himself and falls asleep. You clean the tears off his little face, and although it’s finally quiet on the ship, you can’t shake a feeling of unease after how upset the child has been. However, you’re exhausted too after trying to care for him and you find yourself curling up on your bed your own eyes closing shortly afterwards.

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

You reach the coordinates provided to you by the Covert on a remote planet whose name you don’t know. The scenery does nothing to lift your mood, as the place appears to be an old industrial center and now looks run-down and abandoned. Although, given what you know about the need for the Mandalorian Coverts to remain secretive, you suppose that makes sense. You follow Din off the Crest with the child’s pod floating right beside you. As you walk to the designated meeting point, a large warehouse building, the child begins to whine again. You see the familiar sight of a mythosaur skull painted above the doorway to the warehouse and you breathe a sigh of relief, that this must be the correct place. You enter the building, but everything is dark and dusty inside and it doesn’t look like anyone is around. Thinking back to Din’s Covert, you expect that some guards will probably appear like before. When you see a helmeted figure in the shadows, you think you must be right, that is until the person turns to reveal the stark white helmet and armor of a storm trooper.

“You found us!” An eerily cheery voice trills out, making your blood run cold. It’s Kerrick.

Din instantly moves to shield you behind him, but you know it’s in vain, as now you can see an entire squadron of troopers moving out of the shadows to surround you. Even with Din’s impeccable skills as a gunslinger, there’s no way you could take on this many troopers, you are hopelessly outgunned.

“Come now, my little doll, don’t be shy,” Kerrick’s voice is almost sing-songy in his joy at trapping you, “I’ve missed you so very much, baby doll.”

Your heart is lurching in your chest and you feel sick to your stomach. You’re running through all the possible scenarios in your head, but there’s only one that you can think of which will keep Din and the child from being hurt.

“I’ve missed you too, Kerrick,” you call out, stepping out from behind Din.

Din’s hand reaches out to pull you back, but you gently shake your head and pull away. Before you do, you try to look into his visor with all the love you can and silently try to tell him that everything you’re about to say is a lie, but you have no idea if he can understand that.

“My sweet baby doll, come here and give your man a kiss,” Kerrick leers at you with a wide grin.

You raise your hands up as you walk slowly towards him, and you make your voice high pitched and girly, the way he used to like when you were in bed together, as you say, “Kerrick, all these guns are scaring me, can’t you have them put the blasters away?”

“Oh, my little doll, those are for your protection,” Kerrick explains condescendingly.

“I don’t know, I don’t think I can come any closer, I’m too scared,” you tell him.

“Alright, my doll, for you,” and he motions for the troopers to lower their blasters.

You feel a tiny sense of victory as you can tell you still have some power over Kerrick even with how twisted and vile he’s become. You move closer to him and when you’re within arm’s reach, he becomes impatient and he reaches out to grab you. Din’s instincts kick in and he draws his blaster without thinking and aims directly for Kerrick.

“Uh, uh, uh, Mandalorian, she just said she’s scared of blasters,” Kerrick admonishes, “You don’t want to scare my doll any more than you already have, do you?”

Oh no, you need to salvage this and quickly, “It’s not like that, Kerrick, he’s been trying to help me find you,” you lie, “I’ve been so lonely and sad without you, and he’s been protecting me until I could get back to you.”

“Is that true?” Kerrick asks, skeptical, “From our visit to Angel One, I was under the impression that you’ve been acting like a little whore for him.”

You want to die as you say these next words, but you know you need to convince Kerrick to let Din and the child go, “I was just using him, so he’d keep helping me, but it was just so I could find you again, Kerrick, after all, I’m still your doll.” Your hand comes up to your chest to sit over Din’s heart pendant hidden under your tunic and you hate yourself for having to put Din through this.

Din’s blood is boiling and he feels heartsick as he hears you lie to Kerrick. He knows you must be lying in an attempt to save him and the child. But he can’t ignore how much your words hurt, even if they’re not true. Hearing you call yourself “doll” though and seeing you grip your pendant, he tells himself that you don’t mean what you’re saying, that you do really love him, and that you’re prepared to sacrifice yourself to save him. He’s so angry with himself for leading you into this trap and he’s desperate to find another solution, but like you, he’s out of options. He has to do all he can right now to reign in his desire to start shooting.

Kerrick’s arms are wrapping tighter around your waist, and you know you’re going to have to muster up every acting skill you have if you’re going to convince him of your falsehood. You bring a hand up to caress his face, and he nuzzles into your touch. You thought he was handsome once, but his years with the Empire have changed him and his smug, pretty boy face holds no attraction for you now. You push these thoughts deep down though, and close your eyes as you bring him closer to you for a kiss. It takes everything you have not to shove him away in disgust. As Kerrick forces his tongue into your mouth, you tell yourself to be calm and then you pretend you’re kissing Din. It’s a struggle, but you manage to fool Kerrick enough that when he pulls away he’s grinning from ear to ear.

“Let’s go, doll,” he says and he starts to tug you away.

“Wait, Kerrick, will you do something for me, please?” You do your best to make yourself look as sweet and innocent as you can and you use the girly voice again.

“What can I do for you, baby doll?” He looks at you like you’re a child asking for a treat.

“Will you let the Mandalorian go back to his ship? He really did help me find you, and if it wasn’t for him, we wouldn’t have this wonderful reunion.” You pray Kerrick won’t see through your ploy.

“You always were so softhearted,” Kerrick says as he pats you on the ass.

“Please, for me? Please, Kerrick,” It’s soul crushing to have to beg him like this, but if it can help Din even a little you have to do it.

“Oh alright, I don’t want you to be sad or distracted all night. I have much better plans for us,” Kerrick tells you suggestively. You do your best not to throw up right then, but plan to save it as an escape for later.

“You six, take the Mandalorian back to his ship,” Kerrick motions to a group of troopers. Ok, six is still kind of a lot, but if feels like a number Din can probably handle. You don’t believe for a second that Kerrick is actually going to let Din go without a fight, but at least now he’s not facing an entire squadron.

“Can I say goodbye?” You know you’re pushing it, so you add, “To the child.”

“Fine, but make it quick,” Kerrick pats you on the ass again and you run back over to Din and the child. You scoop the baby up in your arms, but you look directly at Din and mouth, “I love you, I’m sorry.” He inclines his head in the slightest of nods and you know he understands. It doesn’t stop your heart from breaking in two though and you know tears are threatening to spill from your eyes.

“That’s enough!” Kerrick’s sharp voice calls out and you place the baby back in his pod before fixing a fake smile on your face and turning back to Kerrick. It’s shaky at best and you know you can’t hide your teary eyes so you throw yourself back into Kerrick’s arms hoping that a seemingly enthusiastic hug will mask your true feelings.

He chuckles, pats your head, and says, “Don’t worry, doll, I’ve got you now.”

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

The troopers lead Din out of the warehouse and each step feels painful, as he knows it’s taking him further away from you. All he wants to do is run back into that warehouse and fight for you, but he knows a deathtrap when he sees one. He doesn’t believe for one second that the troopers are going to let him leave, but he’s pretty sure he can take them out and get to the ship fast enough to get away. If he can make the jump to hyperspace before Kerrick’s cruiser can realize what’s happening he should be able to escape with his life.

“Be sure to get the asset,” one of the troopers is muttering to another, and Din knows it’s time. He charges and fires his whistling birds taking out four of the troopers at once and as he turns to fire at the other two, he sees their bodies being slammed together forcefully. Despite the terrible situation, he smiles to himself as he sees the child’s hands raised, helping him defeat the Imps. He quickly dispatches the last two troopers and then dashes to the Razor Crest.

He takes off as quickly as he knows how and, risking everything, makes the jump to hyperspace while he’s still in the planet’s atmosphere. It’s incredibly dangerous but it pays off and thankfully, the Crest manages to get away.

As hyperspace glows blue around him, Din plots in a course back to his Covert. He needs reinforcements and this time he can’t let the past hold him back from accepting help.

“We’re going to get her back, buddy,” Din vows looking at the child, “Don’t you worry.”

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

Thank you for reading!! I hope you enjoyed this latest chapter. Link to Chapter 9: Not Without My Cyar’ika

Mando’a glossary:

gar vode = your brethren, your brothers

ner vod = my brother

beroya = bounty hunter

riduurok = marriage, wedding ceremony

riduur = spouse

ad’ika = little one (affectionate)

aliit = family

buir = parent

di’kut = idiot

mesh’la = beautiful

Ni kar’tayl gar darasuum = I love you (literally, I know you forever)

mandokarla = having the right stuff, the epitome of Mandalorian spirit

Ibic mando’kar =This is the way (there is some debate about how to say it)

Tag list: @grogusmum @wellofeternalthirst @idreamofboobear @theamuz @fangirlalexia @callmekane @im-the-nerdiest-of-them-a11 @theravenreads @nicotinebirds @boomtownboy @nova646 @wandering-storm-lost-shadow @becks-things @sleepwithacommunist @mackycat11 @som3thingcr3ative @punkdalek @pinkninja200 @s-unflowxr @ladyjenny19 @peppywitch @haley7242 @the-bottom-of-the-abyss @hotsauceonabiscuit @asta-lily

[startanewdream]

Chasing Dreams

Summary: When Ginny Potter is having doubts about her pregnancy, her father-in-law shows up to give her some help, flying time and, of course, present his suggestion of baby names.

Read on AO3 or below:

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

The wind blows in her face and Ginny closes her eyes, happily, enjoying the feelings that only the breeze over fifty feet in the air can bring. It's been a while since she has felt that breeze, considering the doctor warned to…

Doctor? 

She opens her eyes, confused, but she can't remember anything specific. In fact, she doesn't even remember exactly how she got there - she knows she is on her Firebolt, well above ground, in a Quidditch field that looks like the one in Hogwarts; there is a mist around the field, but she thinks she can see the edges of the castle. It's been years since she played there. Perhaps she had a contusion? She can't recall, but still, it would take more than a Bludger to stop her from playing Quidditch.

'First season in the Holyhead Harpies, third match, right?', asks a voice close to her and she turns to see Harry slightly below her, also on a broom, his face turned away from her.  She thinks there is something strange with his voice. 'That's the game a Bludger broke your foot after fifteen minutes of play and you refused to leave the game'.

Ginny nods, laughing at the memory.

'I told Gwenog that I needed my arms to play Chaser and they were working perfectly fine'.

'And Harry didn't know if he should be mad at you or kiss you'. There is a playfully chuckle. 'Guess we know which won in the end'.

'Harry…?'

The man turns to her, and now Ginny can see it's not Harry. He looks remarkable like Harry though, but the man with her has more lines in his face, his black hair is starting to recede, his nose is longer, and his eyes are completely different. Hazel eyes that shine with more mischief than she ever saw on Harry.

For a moment, Ginny is troubled, feeling like there is something wrong there; then she relaxes, as some part of her mind recognises him.

'I hope you are not listening to gossip, Mr. Potter', she says, grinning at James Potter with the feeling they are sharing a long-lost joke.

'You mean that article of the Witch Weekly saying how you and Harry like to shag on changing rooms, Mrs. Potter? Because I would never read that kind of gossip'.

'As if', Ginny scoffs lightly. 'Everyone knows you and Sirius are the worst tattletales ever, Mr. Potter'.

He laughs in agreement.

Ginny can't remember when that started, but she knows calling him formally is supposed to be a joke between them. Like he was annoyed when she first called him Mr. Potter ('It's James, Ginny, Mr. Potter was my old dad') until she started dating Harry, and then he'd started calling her Mrs. Potter long before they even began thinking about taking that step.

Ginny doesn't remember exactly - a lot of things seem mussed in her head -, but she thinks of a hug on her wedding day, hearing James Potter telling her she was already a Potter even before the wedding vows.

She thinks she might have dropped a tear back then, though the exact memory evades her.

'Well, you and Harry are our favourite celebrity couple', assures James. 'But I promise I give you privacy always - no matter where you are, though I must note that Weekly Witch tends to be right once in a while'.

Ginny feels warmth through her body that has nothing to do with the bright summer day - is it summer? She thought they were in February… -, as her mind perfectly recalls the aftermath of last year’s final match of the Quidditch league, when she and Harry had postponed the victory party in favour of him helping her ease all the tension from the match…

James coughs, as if to draw her attention, and Ginny blushes, trying to think desperately of something that could back away the memories of being with Harry in the shower and how his mouth -

'Quidditch!', James cries suddenly, drawing her attention. 'How about one-sided Quidditch? We can bet who scores the most'.

Ginny is about to say they have no Quaffle to play when she notices the ball in her hand. She doesn't remember taking the ball - and there is a nagging feeling she shouldn't be playing…

'Ginny?', calls James, and when she looks at him, he is smiling gently. 'It's okay, you can play now'.

His tone is reassuring, and she lets herself believe in his words. Besides, though she can't recall the reason, she feels like she misses flying; this should be silly - ever since she left school, all she’s been doing is playing Quidditch professionally, though in the last months…

The thought eludes her again.

Thinking no more of it, she throws him the Quaffle and goes to the hoops. Ginny was never a very good as Keeper - she can play Seeker very well and she loves chasing, of course -, but she can defend somewhat; most of the time, she just watches James Potter flying, dodging some Bludgers that come out of nowhere, and she thinks he flies really well, like if he really trained for it, instead of being more natural like Harry; his moves are perfectly executed, like a professional dancer.

He manages to score a few goals before she finally gets his ticks. James likes to show himself off; even when he has a clean shot, he likes to do manoeuvres that almost make him break his neck, before throwing the Quaffle.

'Oh, you got me', James admits in a defeated voice after she makes the fifth consecutively defence. 'Lily warned me that flaunting would only lead to me embarrassing myself'.

'You are good', Ginny assures him hurriedly, but James just shakes his head, undisturbed.

'I used to be, but I'm rusty. Well, fair is fair. Let's switch positions. Don't be afraid to put your father-in-law to shame, huh?'

Ginny grins. She flies to the middle of the field and as soon as he throws her the Quaffle she begins.

Her style is almost close to his, she realizes; they've both been trained. But Ginny is a top Chaser and there is a reason she holds the scoring-record from the Quidditch League, so after twenty minutes, James refuses to give her back the Quaffle after she scores another goal.

'I think that's enough', he says. 'Sirius won't stop laughing when he hears I barely managed one save that was luckier than any talent on my part'.

'We can keep it a secret', Ginny promises, and she thinks once more this is one of the things she and James Potter share.

How she never tells when she catches him eating the last piece of cake that Lily saved for herself, and how he never tells her mom the time she managed to be drunk at the Potter's New Year's Eve Party.

She can't specify in which year that happened, but it seems like something that could have happened - then it means it did happen, right?

‘You are really excellent’, James says, flying closer. ‘I’d seen you already, but playing with you…’’

Ginny frowns, not knowing how to answer. His comment seems off; of course, they’ve played before, in one of the many times she had dinner over the Potter’s and Harry convinced them to a family Quidditch game on cool nights. They all would play, her brothers against James and Sirius, teasing them for their old age to which they’d answer that they had more experience, while Lily would laugh, acting as a referee and asking them to avoid faults for once.

That had happened, she can’t have imagined it…

‘You remind me of myself, you know’, James adds, distracting her. ‘We both have been flying since we were young, and I’ve broken more than once through my parent’s broom shed’.

‘I thought your dad was the one who taught you how to fly’.

‘He did, but he and my mom were a bit protective. You know, I was their only son… They wanted me to fly safely, and it took them a while to see that if they didn’t want me to do something, then -’

‘Then they shouldn’t forbid you’, Ginny concludes for him, smiling knowingly. ‘Yeah, half the reason I wanted to fly so much was that my mom said I was too young and my brothers refused to let me play’.

‘See? We were both rulebreakers’. He winks at her. ‘Between you and me, that’s what attracted Lily and Harry to us’.

She raises her eyebrows.

‘Harry broke more rules than I ever did’.

‘Says the girl who once broke the headmaster’s office to steal a sword’, remembers James fondly. ‘Still, they both like to break some rules now and then, but their passion is not on it. That’s why we are so good to them. We encourage this side of them’.

‘You approve us. I mean, me and Harry, together’.

Ginny doesn’t know why this information is important to her; it should be something that she already knew, but still a part of her feels warm at the thought. It’s like if she had always wondered if James and Lily would like her, would approve her relationship with Harry, would cheer them...

He throws her a funny look.

‘Of course I do. I mean, for a while I thought Harry was totally going to miss you, and Lily had to forbid me of doing anything - I was just going to nudge him in the right direction, come on -, but things turned out perfectly, didn’t they? You should see me when you first kissed - I was practically waving little flags written “H&G” in a heart…’

His voice suddenly stops, and James blinks as if he realizes he is oversharing. Ginny’s smile, which first came out when he was telling his reaction, dies slowly as she registers what he is saying.

It’s wrong, somehow. James Potter couldn’t be there.

Harry first kissed her in the Gryffindor Common Room, after the Quidditch game and he was alone because he’d been in detention with Snape - Snape who had always disliked Harry, even though he’d protected Harry all in the name of a long-lost love…

A love that had died with her husband years ago.

Ginny blinks and then she chokes as if the air is not enough to breathe, as if she is underwater instead of flying well above ground. With a sigh, James pushes her towards one of the stands and she barely notes he’s helping her to sit.

She breathes slowly before returning to look at James Potter. He looks younger now somehow, younger than her even, barely in his twenties.

And he looks worried at her, which she thinks is kind of ironic considering he’s been dead for the last twenty-four years.

Oh, goodness, he is dead. And if she is seeing him… She remembers Harry telling her, so many years ago, how he died once, how he saw Dumbledore then...

‘You are fine’, James assures her, looking at her as if he knows exactly what’s on her mind. ‘You’re sleeping on the couch of your house right now’.

She nods, still dumbfound, and her hand falls to her lap. Her flat lap.

Now panic crushes over her, more than before when she thought she was dead, and she remembers exactly why the doctor told her she shouldn’t fly anymore, why she hadn’t played Quidditch in the last six months…

‘Your baby is fine too’, adds James. There is a thoughtful smile on his face. ‘This is just a dream, Ginny’.

Relief floods over her, even though she can’t help but think it’s strange not feeling her swollen belly or being able to see her feet.

Now that there is no problem - that her baby is safe - she looks around curiously. As if the mist of early had suddenly vanished, she can see the Hogwarts castle in the distance.

‘I never really played anywhere else’, says James fondly, looking in the same direction. ‘All my Quidditch career was here in Hogwarts, that’s why you are dreaming of here’. He sighs. ‘People always told me I should’ve played professionally’.

Ginny remembers hearing Sirius and Remus describing James, a long time ago, on quiet nights in Grimmauld Place.

‘Sirius always told me how good you were, Mr. -’, his eyes catch hers and she grins. ‘James’.

‘I enjoyed showing off too much. Here in Hogwarts it may have worked, but it’s a cooperative game, I would have sucked playing it in a real league’.

‘I don’t know’, says Ginny slowly. ‘What I like chasing, more than seeking, is teamwork, knowing the other players and working together as one. And for all I’ve heard, you were very good at making people trust you and trusting back’.

‘With one exception’, he murmurs and there is a shadow on his face. ‘Well, I never had the opportunity nor the interest. But who knows what might have happened?’

Ginny feels the same shadow in her heart. She doesn’t know what James Potter would have done with his life, but there are other things she knows – how he’d watch every game that Harry played, how he’d be his son’s most passionate fan, how he’d give his grandchildren their first broomstick.

This thought makes her sad and she feels tears coming to her eyes, as easily as during the first trimester of her pregnancy, when everything made her cry.

‘Oh, no, no’, James says hurriedly, looking at her worriedly. ‘This dream is not supposed to upset you. I thought I could distract you’.

‘Sorry, it’s just - I wish you had played Quidditch instead of being in a war…’

‘I’ve fought in a war so Harry and you and all your generation could be free to do whatever you want. And if it meant I’d die for it, I’d do it again without thinking’. He smiles assuringly. ‘That’s what being a parent means, Ginny. Doing anything for your child’.

She bits her lips and looks at James Potter’s eyes. Even though the colour is very different from Harry’s, she thinks there is the same comfort there, the same patience and the belief that things will turn out fine somehow if you just never give up.

‘I don’t know how to be a mother’, she admits, whispering something that she hadn’t dared say out loud because she never thinks anyone could understand her. Her mother had seven children, Hermione doesn’t think of kids yet and Harry…

Harry is even more worried about himself as a parent than her, and all things considered, she doesn’t want to burden him with her worries.

‘No one does because there is not a formula’. He chuckles lightly. ‘Me and Lily - I don’t know who was more in panic. We were young, we never had even discussed kids, the war was at its peak… But we managed. You will too, and you won’t be alone. That makes all the difference. Sirius, Remus and -’, he hesitates briefly, ‘- Peter didn’t know how to change diapers any better than we, but having them there, having a family… That’s what you need and that’s what you already have’.

‘It’s just not this. I can learn all these things and Harry is there to help but… I worry about me’. She avoids his eyes. ‘I know it’s incredibly selfish, but I don’t know what I will do with a kid, it changes everything, and I’m scared… Not very Gryffindor of me, I know’.

‘The thing I’ve learnt is that being a Gryffindor has less to do with never being afraid and more with never letting fear control you. And from what I’ve seen of you, Ginny, you never let anything control you’.

She nods, in silence. Not being controlled is something she is adamant about ever since she was eleven.

‘You get the right to be scared for you. Of course you do. You don’t stop being you when you become a mother. And you are twenty-three. You still have time to figure it out’. He gestures to the field. ‘If you want to go back, you can. If you want to lay down and retire, you can too. Like you once said, everything is possible if you’ve got enough nerve – and you have that more than most’.

She lets the words – her words – fill her, trusting in them.

‘I - thank you, James’.

‘No problem’, he says dismissively. ‘That’s me, calming future parents’.

‘What?’

‘Nothing’. He presses his lips for a few seconds. ‘That is why you are dreaming now, you know? I saw how worried you were, and I thought maybe we could talk a little. It’s always good to chat with your favourite daughter-in-law’.

‘Am I not the only one?’

‘Still my favourite’, he promises, and Ginny believes in him.

She glances at him. Now James is playing with a Golden Snitch that has just appeared, almost absently, seeming to just enjoy the wind that messes with his hair.

Now she knows she’s dreaming, these things seem to make less sense than before, but still she knows – even though no one told her before – that, like her, James always felt better flying than walking on the ground. If she closes his eyes, she can imagine being with Harry in the living room of the Potter’s house, listening to James recounting his best Quidditch matches, laughing of how he exaggerates in his stories until Lily teases him with the description of what really happened.

(‘I wasn’t knocked by the Bludger, Lily, it was just a scratch’) (‘James, you stayed on the Hospital Wing for three days) (‘Only because you were there watching over me, I could have left the first day, but you were so worried that I let you care for me’) (‘You prat, I was worrying madly over you’) (‘That’s because you were already madly in love with me’) (‘Merlin, could you two find a room to ourselves? You are embarrassing me in front of my girlfriend’)

Ginny blinks, disorientated. These memories can’t be real, but somehow she can almost feel the heat from the fireplace, the softness of the couch as if she and Harry were sitting there now. She can hear their laughter echoing in the room.

‘I know’, James says quietly and sadly. ‘It would be amazing if it had happened, wouldn’t it?’

‘How –‘

‘I think you are just one of those people with the power of imagining. Seeing what it could have been’. He sighs, looking beyond her. ‘It’s good, but it’s also dangerous’.

‘It doesn’t do to dwell on dreams and forget to live’, she recites, thinking of Harry telling her this a long time ago.

‘Dumbledore always had the best phrases. It’s a good advice’. He smiles. ‘Still, Ginny, if there is one thing you could really remember from this dream… Talk to Harry. About your worries. He will listen and support you’. He sighs. ‘Almost ten years and that kid is still deeply in love with you, you know?’

‘I do’, says Ginny calmly.

Their love is one of the things that always keeps her going. Harry encourages her as much as he encourages him, and she doesn’t know how she’d deal with their unplanned and unexpected pregnancy if it wasn’t for him. 

‘Well, it’s obvious by now, but I always supported you. I told Lily ever since you first defended him that you would be together’. He grins. ‘It earned me five sickles’.

Ginny doesn’t know what money is good for someone who is not alive, but she is tactful not to say anything.

‘So Lily didn’t support me?’, she asks instead, rather worriedly.

James blinks.

‘What? No, of course she did. But she bet you’d be together only in his Seventh Year, and I bet Sixth. Harry was much better than me, he couldn’t take that much time…’

‘He took long enough’, Ginny says playfully. This brings another sad smile to his face.

‘Well, he was slow considering -’

‘He was too busy saving the wizarding world, yes’.

‘I saw you two, you know’. He rolls his eyes. ‘Well, not when you took your strolls in the grounds and certainly not in all those detours to broom cupboards, but when you were sitting together in the Common Room, just side by side, holding hands, hugging. This is something Harry never had enough of in his life. Physical contact. If I could give you any advice… Hug your kid. Let him always know he’s loved and cherished’.

‘I will’, she promises. ‘Harry too’.

James nods, then he raises.

‘I think our time is almost up. How about a last flight around the pitch? I know you miss flying’.

‘Oh, I do’. She grabs her broom, but before she mounts it, she turns to him. ‘Huh, James? I know that Harry would probably say something like this is real as long as I think it is… But just between us, is this real?’

‘Harry is usually right about these things’, he says cryptically, winking at her.

‘So if it’s real… no offense, but why seeing me, not Harry?’

‘It was you who needed some comfort and Harry already knows I am always with him. Plus, I couldn’t help but think…’

He hesitates, looking sheepishly at her.

‘I just noticed - like I said, I watch sometimes and - I know you know it’s a boy - I noticed that you and Harry never discussed names - so if it’s up for suggestion -’

‘James’, she stops him, smiling. ‘Harry and I never discussed it because there was never a question. Our baby will be called James, there wasn’t ever doubt about it’.

‘Oh’.

James’ grin is infectious, like watching the sun burning, and Ginny is reminded of how brightly Harry smiled when she told him he was going to be a father.

She’d always listened to people saying how Harry looks like his father, but this is the first time she really sees it. It’s more than the physical appearance.

She wishes Harry were with her in this dream.

‘I was just worried, you know’, James says after a minute, with barely contained satisfaction. ‘If you would think of naming him Elvendork - even though it’s unisex, always good - or after Severus Snape, imagine that’.

‘James Severus would sound catastrophic’, Ginny grins at the horror in his face. ‘But I’m more inclined to James Sirius. Much more explosive and -’

‘Marauder’, completes James, smiling. ‘That kid will be lucky to have you as his parents’.

‘Thank you, James. Not only for your confidence in us, but for… well, everything’.

‘It’s me who has to thank you. You gave Harry a family. That’s the only thing I ever wished for him’.

He mounts his broom.

‘Shall we?’

She laughs, delighted, and joins him for a last flight in the field.

[schrijverr]

The Fear of God... Or Auntie in this Case

5 Times Midoriya and Bakugo Mentioned their Auntie & 1 Time Everyone Met Them

Bakugo and Midoriya are childhood friends, while they don't always act like it, they have their moments where it's undeniable.

On AO3.

Ships: none

Warnings: none, but tell me if I missed any!

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

Midoriya was in the kitchen with Iida and Uraraka drinking something after hero classes. They had fought other classmates and Midoriya had gotten his ass handed by Bakugo, who had perfected a new ultimate move.

Bakugo entered the kitchen and Midoriya smiled and waved: “Hi, Kacchan!”

“What was that pitiful performance today, Deku?” Bakugo spat as greeting, “If this is your best, I’ll be the No. 1 hero unopposed easily. It was pathetic.”

“I will work hard and beat you next time, Kacchan!” Midoriya was unbothered by Bakugo’s harshness, “Your new move was effective, but not unbeatable. I’ll get you next time.”

“You’d better try, don’t need more extra’s in my life,” Bakugo huffed.

To anyone else it would seem like an insult, but Midoriya only heard that so far he wasn’t considered an extra, which was high praise from Bakugo. So, he just smiled: “I’ll try. Also mom wants to know what you want to eat next Friday.”

“Tell her to make her super spicy curry,” Bakugo replied.

“But it’s so hot,” Midoriya whined.

“You can take it, I’ve seen you eat it without blinking before, Deku,” he huffed, “Besides, we ate katsudon last time, you don’t get to complain.”

Midoriya’s smile returned at that and he agreed: “That’s true, I’ll text her.”

“You’re eating together on the weekend you get to go home?” Uraraka asked from where she and Iida had followed the conversation from the sidelines.

“Huh, yeah, why wouldn’t we?” Midoriya said confused.

“Oh, you just don’t seem to like each other very much, that’s all,” Uraraka squeaked.

“What do you know, round-face,” Bakugo shoved his hands in his pockets and turned away.

“Don’t be rude, Kacchan,” Midoriya scolded.

“Their fault for being stupid,” Bakugo shrugged then walked off, while Midoriya rolled his eyes at his actions.

When Bakugo hadleft he turned back to Iida and Uraraka and explained: “It’s a bit of a tradition to eat together on Fridays. Our moms used to be very close and Kacchan’s parents would work late on Fridays, so mom would get me and Kacchan from school and we’d eat together, because Kacchan’s parents would be home late and that way they didn’t have to cook. In return they would bring me to school on Monday mornings when my mom had to work.”

“And why are still doing it?” Uraraka asked, “Not to be rude, I just don’t get it, since you’re always fighting.”

“Ah, well, we didn’t do it in Middle School anymore, but when we both got into UA mom and auntie picked up contact again and she wanted to see me too when we got back from the dorms and mom had the same with Kacchan, so we started again,” Midoriya told her like it was the most natural thing in the world.

“And you’re okay with that?”

“What?” Midoriya stuttered.

“Uraraka, don’t be intrusive, it’s unbecoming of a hero to pry into other people’s business,” Iida was seemingly back online and in scolding mode.

“Ah, sorry,” she quickly apologized.

“Don’t worry, Uraraka!” Midoriya smiled, “I guess it was weird at first, but me and Kacchan have known each other since before we could walk. We’re good now.”

And with that Midoriya left, not noticing that both Iida and Uraraka had difficulty wrapping their heads around the fact that despite everything, Midoriya and Bakugo still shared a close bond that included eating dinner with the other’s parents regularly.

It wasn’t that they hadn’t known they were childhood friends, but with how they could be around each other and how their relationship had been at the start of the year, it was sometimes hard to connect that to their classmates.

However, the dorms were shedding more light on the vast amount of time the two had spend together throughout their life.

Another instance like this happened a few weeks later. Midoriya had worked till late the day before and wasn’t up by the time most were already eating their breakfast.

Bakugo entered the kitchen and asked: “Where’s Deku? That dumbass is usually here way too early, did he already leave of something?”

Tsu said: “He went to bed late last night, I think he’s still in bed, kero.”

“Stupid,” Bakugo huffed, before grabbing a bowl, pan and some ingredients, apparently done with the topic and starting breakfast for himself.

He was plating the final pancake, everyone confused why he’d made two plates, when Midoriya stumbled into the kitchen, his uniform looking a mess as he wrestled with his hair. As he walked, he noticed the plate and his eyes lit up: “Pancakes!”

“Don’t ruin them with that stupid syrup,” Bakugo only replied as if it was completely normal that he made breakfast for Midoriya when the boy was running late.

“Syrup doesn’t ruin them, you with your boring only butter just don’t know taste,” he stuck out his tongue, swiping one of the plates.

“Oi, I can take those back, Deku,” Bakugo threatened.

“Sorry, Kacchan, thank you for the pancakes,” Midoriya bowed, quickly retreating with his prize, but not before snatching the syrup off the counter.

“Idiot,” Bakugo huffed.

Kaminari broke the confused silence with: “Since when do you make breakfast for anyone?”

“I don’t make breakfast for anyone,” Bakugo said, “I just want auntie to murder me because Deku is too stupid to make breakfast for himself and dies.”

“Auntie?” Mina asked, but she was ignored by Bakugo, who went back to eating his own pancakes and scowling at the world.

Sadly for Bakugo, his friends were a lot nosier than Midoriya’s, so when they encountered a snippet of a side of Bakugo that they didn’t know, they wanted to get to the bottom of it.

They tried asking Bakugo about it, but the boy just grumbled about them being nosy and it not being a big deal. Asking Midoriya didn’t help much either, he just shrugged that pancakes were his favorite and he and Kacchan were childhood friends.

That explained little and only added more questions.

Naturally they pestered Bokugo after that, popping up to ask questions like: “When did you two meet?” “Don’t know, too young to remember.” “Are there pictures of you two?” “None of your business.” “Is that a yes?” “Leave me the fuck alone before I blow you face off.”

So, they were pouting in the common room, brainstorming ideas when a situation arose naturally, since Midoriya was on a nearby couch playing a board game with Momo and Tokoroki.

“Can I play red?” he asked, “It’s my favorite color.”

“Sure, I want the black one, it’s stylish,” Momo said.

“Favorite color?” Tokoroki asked.

“Yeah,” Midoriya smiled, “What’s yours?”

“Never thought about it, I suppose,” Tokoroki said.

“Really?” Momo asked.

Tokoroki shrugged, while Midoriya offered: “You can pick a favorite color now. Which color do you like the best? Any color bring you joy?”

At that Tokoroki pulled a thinking face, obviously putting a bit too much thought in a such a silly question as what’s your favorite color.

It was at this moment that Bakugo entered. He spotted the unstarted board game and Tokoroki’s extreme thinking face and yelled: “Oi, Icy-Hot, what are you thinking so hard about? Finding start really that hard?”

“Don’t be mean, Kacchan,” Midoriya called back, “Tokoroki is picking a favorite color, that’s important.”

“Pshh, favorite colors are stupid and for babies, I don’t have one,” Bakugo said.

“Oh, really?” Midoriya asked, a shit eating tone creeping into his voice that made Bakugo and the others look up with suspicion, “I vaguely remember something about green being your favorite color.”

“I don’t know what you’re talking about, Deku,” Bakugo’s tone was threateningand trying to stop the conversation.

“Really?” Midoriya said, before doing an impression of what was presumably a small Bakugo, “Please, auntie, can you make me a green birthday cake? It’s the bestest color and I want a cake with leaves on it, please, auntie?”

“Shut up!” Bakugo launched himself over the couch to tackle Midoriya, who shrieked as he tried to get away to no avail.

Bakugo mercilessly tickled him as he tried to fight him off through the giggles. Meanwhile Todoroki said: “I think I like blue best,” not noticing or caring about the spectacle that was Bakugo and Midoriya.

After the other had been threatened, Bakugo stomped off, while Midoriya could only give them the reason of being childhood friends for all this.

It was a reasonable explanation, but it was slightly unbelievable that Midoriya had only been mildly maimed in that encounter. The two of them shouldn’t work as friends, no matter how long they’d spend together.

They just shouldn’t.

There must be another reason for them to be close enough for these random encounters to happen, they just had to find it.

So, a small group was on high alert whenever the two were in the same room. They watched like hawks for something to happen that could explain their friendship, so when Bakugo got a call from his mother, no one left the room, just in case Midoriya walked in. Instead they just pretended to be absorbed in whatever they were doing while they waited.

After a few minutes their patience was rewarded, because Midoriya walked into the room right as Bakugo was saying: “Yes, I’m eating just fine, you old hag.”

“Auntie?” he asked with a shine in his eyes.

Bakugo lowered the phone for a second and rolled his eyes: “Yeah, it’s her,” before going back to the conversation with a, “I’m listening, I’m listening, geez, Izu wanted to know if it was you,” a small silence, “Yes, he’s here.”

Midoriya leaned over the back of the couch next to Bakugo on the side of the phone and called out: “Hi, auntie, how are you? Everything good with the business, I hope?”

With a sigh, Bakugo angled the phone so that both could listen to whatever his mother was saying, not even that annoyed that his private phone call got hijacked.

“Yeah, he’s eating his greens,” Midoriya chirped, earning him a glare, but Bakugo didn’t shove him off, “Still not eating the turnips though.”

“They’re gross, I don’t care what you think,” Bakugo complained, “And Izu is staying up late to do his homework.”

“That’s mean,” Midoriya pouted, before assuring Bakugo’s mother, “He’s lying, it’s just much work, but nothing unreasonable. And the only reason he knows, is because he’s still up as well. So, if I’m late, so is he.”

That did earn him a small slap from Bakugo and he exclaimed: “Ouch! Kacchan!”

There was an incomprehensible sound from the phone and with a shit eating grin, Midoriya said: “Yes, he’s hitting me, auntie. He hits hard.”

“He- he deserved that!” Bakugo protested, “And it wasn’t that hard, he’s sticking his tongue out at me.”

“No, I’m not,” Midoriya lied.

“You don’t get to team up against me with my mother,” Bakugo said.

“It’s not teaming up if you’re misbehaving,” Midoriya told him.

That was the limit for Bakugo who threw up his hands and pushed the phone in Midoriya’s grip as he got up and said: “I’m done, apparently she likes you better, you talk to her.”

Midoriya blinked a few times, before something Bakugo’s mother said snapped him out of it and he said: “Kacchan just walked off, yeah. I’ll make sure he says goodbye properly. He probably just didn’t wanna say that he loves you with the others here.”

Something Mitsuki answered made him laugh and he agreed: “He’s always been sensitive. But how are you, I feel like we haven’t talked in a while, say hi to uncle from me and to mom.”

And with that Midoriya spiraled into small talk, starting to walk around while he talked until he disappeared up the stairs, presumably to force Bakugo to say goodbye to his mom.

The people in the room were gobsmacked that Bakugo would trust Midoriya enough with his phone to just leave it with him while he stalked off, or that Midoriya would just throw Bakugo under the bus like that in front of his mother and got away with it.

Everyone who had witnessed it were now incredibly curious to what exactly happened, what their childhood must have been like. They still refused to believe that there hadn’t been anything big, but it really had just been the little things that built up.

~

The first time it happened both boys were four and walking back from school with Mitsuki. It was a hot summer day with the sun beating down, causing them all to sweat. So, the two little kids wanted ice cream.

Finally Kacchan decided that his friend’s miserable looks were too much, so when they passed an ice cream cart he asked his mom: “Mom, can we get ice cream?”

His mother had been dotting the last i’s on something in her phone and only vaguely picked up the noise, not actively registering the words. She snapped back into reality and said: “Hey, why don’t you boys go get some ice cream while I finish this?”

The two cheered and smiled as she handed them some money, keeping one eye on them while the other focused on her task.

“How did you do that, Kacchan?” Izu asked.

“Do what?”

“Make auntie think it was her idea to let us get ice cream,” he explained, “That was so cool!”

Kacchan realized that this was an opportunity to look cool, so he said: “I’m just awesome like that, maybe it’s my quirk. I suggest something and someone else then offers it.”

“Really!” Izu had big eyes.

“Maybe,” Kacchan shrugged, “Can you do a handstand?”

Izu felt no urge to do it, but he didn’t want to disappoint his friend, so he said: “Why don’t I do a handstand?” then after a beat, “I don’t feel anything.”

“Hmm,” Kacchan hummed, “Oh, I know, hey, do a handstand.”

“You know, I should do a handstand,” Izu still felt nothing, but he was having fun thinking of new ways to say this.

“While you’re at it, maybe do a handstand,” Kacchan giggled, he also was aware that it probably wouldn’t be his quirk and it was a fun game to do with his friend.

The two boys walked back to Mitsuki while playing their game and after that it became a thing. Whenever one had to do something and said it out loud, it was the other’s cue to jump in and suggest whatever the first had said back to them in a different way.

~

Midoriya and Bakugo hadn’t done it in forever, but living in the dorm had made both more comfortable around each other. So when Bakugo got up on a study evening stating that he had to grab a new pen, Midoriya didn’t even register that he countered: “Hey, why don’t you go get a new pen?”

Bakugo looked surprised for a moment then, smirked: “I was thinking of getting a new pen.”

“While you’re at it, grab a new pen as well,” Midoriya was still looking at his homework, more doing it on reflex then anything else.

“Hey, I think I’m getting a new pen.”

“Great suggestion, get a new pen too, okay?”

“I could grab a new pen now that I’m up.”

“Now that you’re up, why don’t you grab a new pen?”

“What are you two doing?” Momo interrupted them.

“Yes, you are distracting the whole class, who are trying to study,” Iida back her up with a lot of chopping movements.

Midoriya looked startled, then blushed heavily, while Bakugo grinned and left the room to grab saidnew pen. Now Midoriya was alone in front of everyone’s curious gazes.

He shrugged and said: “It’s a long story and it’s not even that funny actually. We got ice cream and stuff, but we asked auntie and then she said it and then we thought it was Kacchans quirk and I didn’t do a handstand, but we did the repeating stuff and it was funny…” he petered off into muttering, explaining nothing.

“Sorry, I didn’t catch that,” Iida said.

“It’s an inside joke,” Midoriya settled on, not thinking he’d be able to explain.

“An inside joke!” Mina repeated loudly.

The door opened and Bakugo came back with the pen in hand and Mina whipper her head around to him, making him freeze in his spot.

“Bro, not manly to lie,” Kirishima whined, “You told me, you didn’t do inside jokes.”

“And I don’t,” Bakugo told him.

“But-” Kirishima was cut off by Bakugo: “Izu is the exception, now get the fuck back to your math, you suck at it.”

“Brooo.”

After that Bakugo refused to engage with anyone and ignored the looks. Midoriya had a harder time, but he managed on the warmth of the return of the childhood nickname.

After the call with auntie, Bakugo had started calling him Izu here and there again. Midoriya was sure, he hadn’t wanted to call him Deku in front of his mom, but Midoriya felt weird, so he had settled on Izu, but after that, he had tried to not call him Deku anymore.

They were going back to when they were good, when they were equals and friends who had stupid fun. And Midoriya couldn’t be more excited.

Most accepted that neither wanted to comment on it and went back to their work. A few, however, filed this away and kept a closer eye on them.

There would be a few more instances where they found the two repeated the same thing back at eachother, or when they were getting along, or made a comment that would be weird if the other didn’t react like it wasn’t completely normal or entirely hilarious.

But they wouldn’t get any insight into why they worked as friends until both of them got hurt in a street fight.

They weren’t badly hurt, hadn’t even needed a hospital, but the fight had been televised, so after Aizawa had cleared them he said: “Your mom’s are coming over to check on you. They were worried after seeing the fight, so reassure them.”

The two immediately turned to the other with wide eyes as Aizawa left. Then class 1-A witnessed the weirdest thing to date, almost in sync the two proclaimed: “You came with the idea.”

“I said it first,” Bakugo exclaimed.

“Nu-uh, I did,” Midoriya said.

“First off, no you didn’t. Second off, even if you did, it wouldn’t make it true.”

“You threw the first punch!” Midoriya yelled.

“And you wanted to help them.”

“You did too.”

“Yeah, but you suggested it.”

“Noooo, Kacchan, auntie will scold me,” Midoriya whined.

“Yeah, but my auntie will be sad and she has the same eyes as you and I’ll feel bad,” Bakugo countered.

“What’s going on with you two?” Mina got between them, “It’s just your mothers being worried about you. You’re lucky they care so much.”

“You don’t underst-” Midoriya began, only to be cut off by the door slamming open to reveal two ladies.

“Do you two have any idea how scared I was when I saw the news,” the smaller, green haired one began, “You know I can’t watch that kind of stuff, but then it was you two as well? You will give me a heart condition if you go on like this.”

She shook both their shoulders violently, while tears streamed down her face. Neither boy could react to her, however, due to the shaking.

Mitsuki stepped in: “Hey, Inko, relax, don’t injure them with the shaking. The teachers said they were fine,” the two sighed in relief when they were released, so she added: “Don’t think you’re both not getting the scolding of a lifetime.”

Both had been pulled into a hug by Inko, so they just looked chastised over her shoulders at Mitsuki, who seemed satisfied at that.

“First injuries, though,” she said, “I know Inko won’t be able to sleep otherwise.”

Bakugo had the most visible injury of a cut on his face, so Inko started with him. She gently cupped his cheek and inspected the cut. Everyone expected him to push her off or get mad, but instead he leaned into her hands and softly greeted: “Hi, auntie.”

“Hi, sweetheart,” she said, “Your head feeling okay? The teachers said you didn’t have a concussion, but make sure to tell Izukuif you feel woozy, yeah?”

“I will auntie, it’s fine. Looks worse than it is,” he assured her.

“Did they clean this properly?” she replied.

“Yeah,” Bakugo nodded.

“Sting?”

“A bit, but it’s fine.”

“I think he’s alright, Suki,” Inko told the other woman.

While she had been checking over Bakugo, Mitsuki had taken upon her the task of scolding Midoriya: “What were you thinking, dragging Kat into a street fight with you? I know you both got your licenses and you’re proud of it, but it is not an excuse to mix yourself in every fight.”

“But Kacchan jump-” Midoriya started to protest.

Now Inko involved herself in the conversation: “No buts, young man. I support you, but I asked you to not needlessly endanger yourself.”

“And you,” Mitsuki directed herself to Bakugo assured that he was fine, “You should know better. I know you are also responsible for half the shit you got up in your childhood, but I thought you had grown out of it. I really wish you two weren’t such trouble magnets.”

“That was very irresponsible indeed,” Inko told him and while she looked like a hurt puppy, Bakugo did a pretty accurate impression in reply.

“Kacchan jumped in first,” Midoriya defended, finally getting the whole sentence of throwing Bakugo under the bus out without being interrupted.

“And you suggested it first, right?” Mitsuki didn’t even seem phased or surprised as she presented Midoriya as the prime instigator between him and Bakugo like it was a fact.

Midoriya didn’t respond so she said: “I’m taking that as a yes. You always were a sneaky one that got the two of you in trouble.”

“The ant incident was only partly my idea. Kacchan was the most adventurous, not me. He came up with a lot too,” Midoriya protested.

“That’s not true,” Bakugo said, “The ant incident was completely your fault. I still fell them crawling sometimes.” He shuddered.

“Boys, concentrate, the ant incident is in the past,” Inko interrupted them, “I don’t care who suggested it first and who threw the first punch. You both behaved recklessly and worried me. We know you’re in the hero business, but you could’ve least called to tell us you were okay.”

“Sorry, mom.”

“Sorry, auntie.”

Both were looking like properly scolded young boys, ten years being shaved off under the worried gaze of their mothers and suddenly their friendship didn’t seem so weird anymore.

With Midoriya also appointed as a trouble maker and Bakugo an unwilling victim of their own bullshit, they could see how two adventurous little kids got up to so much trouble that their mothers scolding invoked a fear that made them rush to blame the other for whatever had happened.

A lot can happen to break friendships and a lot can leave him beyond repair, but not a lot of feelings can compare to sitting in front of your mother after getting in trouble with your friend that you enjoyed too much to truly regret.

Seeing that the message had sunk in, the stern expression faded from their faces and Mitsuki asked: “I saw you landed a bit rough on the end there, Izuku. Your ankles alright?”

“Yeah, my boots protected me from most of the damage,” Midoriya assured her.

“Good,” she nodded more to herself as she checked both of themover again.

“You’ll tell a teacher if you start to feel bad, won’t you?” Inko asked.

“Yes, mom,” Midoriya said.

“And you’ll eat enough?” Mitsuki checked.

“Yes, old hag,” Bakugo rolled his eyes, with the scolding over, he was reverting back to his usual self.

“Don’t think you’re off the hook, young man. Your dad is also very mad, but he couldn’t make it, so you are just lucky,” the blonde said.

“Say hi to uncle from me,” Midoriya smiled, his mom now having pulled him into a hug.

“I will, but don’t think you’re not getting a scolding come next Friday,” she said, before hugging Bakugo and then him, giving both a kiss on the cheek before the two moms said their goodbyes.

Once they were out the door, Kaminari said: “So, what’s the ant incident?”

“WE DO NOT TALK ABOUT THE ANT INCIDENT!” Bakugo roared.

[heywardsarchive]

Lie to me

Summary: Draco pushed away his love and watched her move on as his heart broke more and more.

Warnings: angst , fem reader

word count: 2.9k + 

Listen to lie to me by 5 seconds of summer to feel the story more. Memories are in italics

thanks to the amazing @pregnant-piggy​ for proofreading this!

this is for @iliveiloveiwrite​‘s writing challenge! im sorry it took so long prompt is in bold.

**** Draco regretted that day more than anything in his life. He pushed away the only light in his dark life. He remembered the day as if it was yesterday although it happened more than 6 months ago.

"Draco! Stop." Y/n told him as he walked away from her. He ignored her and continued walking. He had a mission to fullfil. Nothing could stop him. Lost in his thoughts, he didn't hear y/n run toward him. "Draco Lucius Malfoy you listen to me right now." "What y/n! I have places to be." "Yeah. Of course you do. Never have time for me. YOUR GIRLFRIEND!" "You are not the only person in my life y/n." Draco said rubbing the bridge of his nose.  "Alright then. I'm not going to be in your life anymore." She told him, eyes watering slightly. "We're done." She turned around, her hair slapping Draco in the face.

6 months ago Draco was still a dumb fifth year. Now as a sixteen year old who had been given a deadly task, he was drowning in his own head even more. He walked into the great hall and sat down on his seat at the Slytherin table. His eyes unconsciously drifted to the gryffindor table where y/n sat with him. Him being Dean Thomas. They started dating about a month ago and she looked happy. Happier then she was with him.

Draco sat at his table poking at his food, not really eating. His eyes couldn't help but keep flitting back to her. He watched as y/n rested her head on Dean's shoulder and giggled at something he said. She never smiled that big when she was with him. She did infact. In the beginning of their relationship was quite sweet. When Draco asked her out her face lit up and her smile was so bright, it could rival the sun.

"Hey y/n!" Draco came up behind y/n while they both left their shared transfiguration class. "Hi Draco, what's up?" He looked a bit flustered and rubbed the back of his neck. "I uh had to ask you something." "Ask away." She smiled at him and Draco swore he almost got blown away by the beauty of the girl in front of him. "Will you uh go out with me?" She were slightly shocked to see the Draco Malfoy nervous. But at the same time y/n was delighted! She had been crushing on him for a few months after all. "Yes ofcourse I will!"

Draco almost did a happy dance on the spot. (He actually did) Y/n laughed at him and leaned in to give him a kiss on the cheek, but Draco turned his head and she accidentally kissed his lips. She pulled away immediately looked completely red and flustered. "Sorry that didn't mean to happen, I'm so sorry i-" Draco cut her off with another kiss. A proper one this time. She ran her fingers through his hair as his cupped her cheeks. "See you in hogsmeade." She smiled and left. Draco was never happier in his life.

Today Draco decided to stay back, not going to hogsmeade in order to try and find a way to complete the task given to him, for if he failed he would suffer. Very badly. He sat in the courtyard watching happy couples and students walk toward the carriages. He held in his hand a paper with everything he had thought of. They weren't very good plans. Draco didn't want to actually kill Dumbledore, but he had to pretend to do so.

Y/n walked past him clinging on to Dean's arm, Seamus walking beside them. Draco had never hated anyone more than he hated Dean Thomas at that very moment. He wanted nothing more than to strangle him and pull y/n into his arms and kiss her again. But he knew he couldn't. She didn't love him anymore. He wished she did. He wanted to ask her. He wanted to hear the words leave her lips, even if it was a lie.

He stood up quickly, dropping his things in the process. She looked toward him looking for the source of the noise. Their eyes met for a split second before she looked away. He had never wanted to see such hurt and malice in her eyes, especially when looking at him. But he did what he did and nothing could change it now.

Draco decided to walk to the astronomy tower where it would be silent. He sat down looking out of the window. His first date with y/n was here in the tower...

"Draco! Where we going?" Y/n asked him, giggling slightly. "Shh love, you'll get to know soon enough." He held on to her hand tighter and brought her to the astronomy tower. He had set up an elaborate dinner on a picnic mat with the help of the house elves. "Wow, Draco I, this is amazing!" She turned around and kissed him passionately. "Anything for you lovely." She giggled.

They sat down on the mat and enjoyed each other's presence. "You remembered my favourite food!" She said, holding draco's cheek. "Ofcourse I did." He kissed her palm and they continued eating the excellent meal. After they were done, they lay on the mat and looked at the stars. " Thankyou Draco. The date was amazing. But next time, let me spoil you instead." He smiled. "Oh darling, that won't be possible when you're with me." She simply tightened her grip on his hand.

Draco shook his head, pushing away the memory. It hurt too much. He had to get out of the tower. Everything reminded him of her. He ran out of the door, tears slowly falling down his cheek. He didn't know where he was going, he just went where his feet took him. He ended up on the seventh floor. There wasn't much there. He saw a door and opened it. The room was large, filled with chairs and tables. In the centre there was a cupboard. The vanishing cabinet. He finally had a good plan but he didn't know if he wanted to execute it.

He sat in the room for a while pondering his choices and decisions. He shed a few tears and as he sat, his gaze on the cupboard, he wondered if he could ever get over y/n. He could never hate her, no. It was not her fault and he still loved her. Love, it's a strong word. He remembered the first time they said it to each other and felt his heart break a tiny bit.

It was the last hogsmeade weekend before break and Draco and y/n walked hand in hand in the snow. Christmas was coming soon and they were yet to buy gifts. "Alright dray, you go your way and I'll go mine, we'll meet near the three broomsticks after one hour alright?" "Ok." He pulled y/n against him and kissed her cold lips. "Bye." She giggled pushing him away.

That evening, the two of them sat togetherness and wrapped all of their gifts. Draco's looked very neat and had no creases. "How is yours so neat?" Y/n said, her eyes wide. "Mother made sure I had the skill of wrapping gifts and unwrapping them with class since I was about 6." She nodded and looked at her own gifts. They weren't that bad, they were just a bit messy at the edges. "It's ok love, what matters is the sentiment." He smiled lovingly at the girl in front of him.

The next morning, they were leaving for the home. At the breakfast table, y/n had brought down draco's gift for him. "I wanted to see your reaction when you opened it." He felt so loved by the small gesture. He opened the wrapping paper and in it was a small ring, shaped like a snake. "I charmed it so that you could come to know if I was happy or sad or whatever. And with my ring I can come to know about you." She smiled triumphantly showing Draco her ring that was shaped like a flower vine. "It will turn pink for in love, red for angry, blue for sad, yellow for happy and you get the picture." Draco's heart swelled with happiness. He knew she was the one for him, or atleast he thought at that point of time. "I love you." He blurted out. Y/n's face turned red and Draco thought he messed up. "I'm so sorry, you don't need to say it back. I-" she cut him off and kissed him. "I love you too silly." Draco sighed in relief and kissed her once again. "Come on let's go now, or we'll miss the train." The ring glew pink.

Draco remembered that old memory that occured around a year or more ago. He pulled out the ring from the chain around his neck. It was silver, there was no glow coming from it, mostly because there was no connection to it anymore. He put the ring away, wiped his tears and walked away.

*****

Draco spent most of his time in sixth year locked in myrtles bathroom. He had finally fixed the vanishing cabinet. He didn't know if he was happy or sad about it. Today was the day the death eaters would break into Hogwarts and watch him kill Dumbledore. He wanted to warn y/n to stay away from the astronomy tower, but he'd have to confess in that case. He knew she didn't love him anymore, why was he afraid of disappointing her? He knew she fell out of love way before they broke up.

They were constantly fighting and blowing each other off a few months before y/n broke things off with him. "Not now y/n." It was mostly Draco. She did try mend things but there are things that cannot be fixed. Their relationship was one of them. Draco watched her fall out if love with him, though he didn't pay much attention to it. He was far too caught up in his own head. Yes, he loved her, but that wasn't enough. His ring rarely glew pink they way it used to. He knew their breakup was inevitable but nothing could have prepared him for it.

He stood with his wand in his trembling hand. He disarmed Dumbledore, but could not bring it in him to kill the old headmaster. He closed his eyes and pictured her face. She would hate him even more if he went through with his task. He started lowering his wand when Snape walked in front of him killing Dumbledore instead. Everything that happened after was a blur. He was being dragged by the arm with Snape as they left Hogwarts grounds. He was apparated home where the dark lord.

He spent a large portion of the year alone in his room. The rest of the house was far too gloomy for him. He had no company and no privacy. He fiddled with the trinkets lying around his room, not paying attention to the screams from below. They were a regular occurrence and Draco had learned to tune them out.

That was until one day, he heard a familiar sound. He knew he had heard that voice before. It was screaming obscene words and cries. He ran out of his room and looked at the living room below. There in the mercy of his wretched aunt Bellatrix, lay the only girl he had truly ever loved. He wanted to call out her name, but that would only bring her more pain.

So he waited. They threw her in the dungeon after a few hours of torture. Draco wanted to go see her but he was probably the last person she wanted to see. It was a few days later when he was given the task of bringing meals to the prisoners that he faced her after nearly two years. He silently went about his task. He placed the plate in front of her. He wanted to say sometimes, anything but no sound came.

He was about to get up and leave when she stopped him. "Draco, wait." He looked at y/n and took in her appears. Her face was scarred and thin. She looked pale and weak. But she was anything but in his eyes. "You don't look too happy." She said. "I'm not. But there's nothing anyone can do to help me." He croaked out. They sat in silence for a few minutes. "I feel like you want to tell me something." She said suddenly. "Why?Why did you leave ?" He said. "Oh Draco." Y/n shook her head. "Didn't you see we were bad for each other? I loved you and so I let you go. I didn't know what was going on in your head because you didn't let me in. I thought we lost that spark, which indeed we had. I know it hurt at first but look, here we are now. Sitting in a dungeon. Draco, I loved you. But that's in the past now. We have to hope for new beginnings and a better life. Maybe one day, if I survive this, I'll start my own bakery." She sighed wistfully. Draco took it as his cue to leave. "Take care.' he said patting her hand.

About a month later, Harry Potter was caught and brought to Malfoy manor. He and Ron and Hermione managed to break out the prisoners and escape to a safe place. Draco only hoped that y/n were safe and alive.

The next time Draco saw y/n was at the battle of Hogwarts. She was fighting a death Eater when another three a curse at her from behind.  "No!" Draco cried he threw y/n out of the way and saved her from possible death. "You're ok." She said softly. "I'm ok." Draco nodded. He grabbed her hand. "For what its worth, I'm truly sorry." She sighed and shook her head. "It's alright now."

******

The war was over. Harry Potter had won. Everyone could finally breathe a sigh of relief, not him though. Due to draco's families affiliation with the dark lord, he would most probably be shunned the rest of his life. He walked into the great hall and looked as all the happy couples reunited, siblings and parents found each other. Everyone had someone to be with after the war.

Draco watched y/n as she burst through the door and ran straight into Dean's arms. He couldn't but wish it were him instead. He shed a few tears and left. He didn't know where he was going but he had to leave.

****** 6 years later

Draco did leave, he travelled to France, Spain, Greece and Ireland. He stayed in small cottages that he rented in every small town he stayed in. He tried dating occassionally but he never really felt anything like he felt for y/n. He worked in a bakery in one of the towns he lived in (I used to work in a bakery hehe) he learned many skills in his travels He enjoyed the change in scenery but he knew he had to return at some point.

The first place he went to once he returned was a small coffee shop which he loved since he was a child. To his surprise, he saw y/n and Dean over there. He wanted to run, but that would be rude and he did want to talk to them. "Hey." He tapped y/n's shoulder. "Oh Draco, hi!" She gave him a short hug and then he shook Dean's hand. "It's been a long time mate, we thought you disappeared." Dean told Draco jokingly. Draco smiled sheepishly. "I needed to get away for a while." "Yeah we totally get it. The war took a toll on everyone." Y/n said seriously. Draco looked at her hand. It had a shining ring on it. He felt his heart break a bit. All those years and he still wasn't able to move on. "Alright, we'll talk soon. I have to go now." Draco said. "Wait!" Y/n called out. She shared a look with Dean. He nodded. "We want you to come to our wedding. It's next week, it will be great if you came." He said.  "I'll think about it and let you know." Draco said with a small smile.

Eventually, Draco did go to the wedding. It was a small one, but it was beautiful. There were purple and white flowers everywhere and the centrepiece of the table was a small elephant with a candle in its back. As Draco sat at the back, watching the ceremony, the bride and groom saying their vows. When they were about to kiss, Draco glanced at his hand, at the snake ring he still wore. It glew yellow. He didn't know why y/n wore her side of the ring but she had and Draco could see she was happy. Maybe it was finally time to move on and be happy himself.

*****

taglist: @kashishwrites​  (send an ask to be added to my taglist!)

[itubainaretro]

TW // mentions of violence (the attack) 

Sunday, November 15th 2020 -  22:53 

Maybe right now Sander and Robbe are still together in Sander’s house, putting the last of their dinner away and almost done with cleaning the kitchen so they can head to Sander’s room and get settled for the night.

-

Usually, Robbe spends Sunday nights at home, with his mama, finishing some last minute homework and assignment that he had left unattended during the week, but not tonight. Tonight he’s staying at Sander’s place, just like he has been doing since Friday night, and he still thinks it’s cute how Sander made sure to ask Robbe’s mama himself if there was any problem with Robbe spending the entire weekend with him, including Sunday night, more than a week ago. She said there was no problem as long as Robbe finished his school work on time and really went to school on Monday morning and not skipped classes to stay with Sander. Robbe promised his mama he would be responsible and he made sure to keep that promise, finishing all his school work by Thursday and leaving for Sander’s house Friday afternoon after giving his mama’s cheek a kiss and hugging her goodbye.

Robbe didn’t think too much of it when Sander asked him, thinking maybe Sander just missed him and wanted to spend some alone time with him since his parents would be gone for the weekend so they would have the house all to themselves, besides, he would never pass up the opportunity to spend all the time he could with Sander, so he simply agreed to it, without giving it a second thought. 

Until he realised the date.

Things changed when Robbe woke up today and noticed what day it was and what happened to them a year ago. Their first date. The countless hours they spent at the bar, their bar, talking, getting to know each other, drinking, flirting and taking silly photos of one another. The breathtaking kisses they shared outside. And how it all came to an abrupt end. 

Robbe tried not to think too much about it, he tried to keep those memories out of his brain, locked in a box he shoved at the back of his mind and pretended to forget it existed. Instead he tried to focus on the good parts of the night, like when he got to the bar and saw Sander waiting for him by the bike racks with the most beautiful smile on his face, or when they entered the bar and Sander held the door open for him like a true gentleman, or when he pulled that stupid magic trick he learned when he was a kid and Sander found it amusing despite telling Robbe to stop, a sweet smile adorning his face.

It wasn’t the easiest thing to do, but he managed, being easily distracted by Sander’s presence and all the plans he had for them throughout the day. 

After waking up they watched an old movie, one of Sander’s favourites, in Sander’s bed, and stayed there cuddling for what felt like a thousand years, until their bellies started making weird noises, signaling it was time for them to get up and get some breakfast in their systems. They spent the rest of the morning listening to music and cleaning the mess they made in the kitchen yesterday, during their spontaneous instagram live to try out their new Croque 2000 machine, that was left there to be taken care of later after Sander’s near death experience choking on a tomato. They laughed while remembering Sander’s face after getting rid of the offensive tomato and hugging Robbe, thanking him for saving his life and promising to not try that ever again. Robbe couldn’t stop himself from kissing him and calling him a dork. 

For lunch they had some leftover pizzas they had had on Friday night and sometime during the afternoon, after taking a nap together in front of Sander’s TV while some random documentary played as background noise, Sander requested Robbe’s help in the kitchen again so they could start making dinner. Sander decided to go all out and make them pasta from scratch and it was a delight to see them both messing up until they finally got it right and managed to not only make a decent meal from scratch but a delicious one at that.

-

So right now they’re almost done with the dishes, Robbe washing and rinsing everything and Sander drying them and putting them back in their rightful places. 

After rinsing the last of the cutlery, Robbe washes his hands and waits for Sander to finish drying and putting everything away, leaning on the counter and smiling as he sees Sander shaking his head to the music that plays softly from his phone.

As soon as Sander puts away the last fork he was drying he absentmindedly throws the dishcloth somewhere near the table and grabs Robbe’s waist and pulls him into a kiss. It takes Robbe a bit by surprise but he soon after follows Sander’s lead, opening up to him as soon as he feels Sander’s tongue grazing his bottom lip, asking for entrance. It’s urgent, fast, all consuming and all Robbe can think about, feel and smell is Sander, Sander, Sander.

They make their way to Sander’s room, closing the door out of habit, and Sander pushes Robbe against it to kiss him again. It’s another urgent kiss, but this time it feels desperate, like they’re both trying to hold onto something they don’t know how to name. It feels off.

Sander is the first one to break the kiss, breathing heavily and leaning his head against Robbe’s with his eyes still closed. He takes a deep breath and Robbe waits for him to say something, gently caressing his neck from where his hand had found its way to earlier, hoping it soothes him.

Sander shakes his head, sighing. “I’m sorry.”

“Hey,” Robbe whispers, “it’s okay.”

“No,” Sander shakes his head again, “it’s not.”

Robbe pulls away a little, trying to search for Sander’s eyes, but he still has them closed. He caresses his thumb across Sander’s laugh lines and hopes he understands what Robbe wants from him. Sander opens his eyes but doesn’t meet Robbe’s gaze, looking down instead.

“San, look at me,” Robbe tries again. “Please?”

Sander finally looks at him and the sight of Sander’s defeated green eyes is enough to make Robbe’s heart break.

“What’s wrong, baby? Talk to me.”

“I’m sorry.”

Robbe shakes his head. “Sander, there’s nothing to apologise for. What’s going on?” 

“Yes, there is,” Sander nods. “Tonight I wanted to show you how that night was supposed to go, how it was supposed to have ended,” his voice is barely a whisper. “But I don’t think I can.”

Robbe takes a sharp inhale of breath and silence falls between them.

After a few seconds Sander breaks the silence. “I’m sorry. I’m sorry for bringing it up and I’m sorry for that night as well.” He sounds choked up.

Robbe shakes his head and engulfs Sander in a hug. “Sander, please, it wasn’t your fault,” he whispers in his neck. “It was never your fault.”

Sander holds him tight and both of them can feel the other’s tears making a wet trail in their clothes the moment they both break down crying.

“And we were both thinking about it the whole day today, so don’t apologise for bringing it up either,” Robbe’s voice is hoarse.

They stand like that, just holding each other for a long time, until Sander pulls away a little bit and kisses Robbe’s forehead, disentangling them from the hug and leading them to his bed.

When they get settled, side by side, Robbe is the first one to speak. “Do you want to talk about it?”

They never properly talked about that night, about how they felt or how hard it was, avoiding all the pain that came with the memory of it, just that they shouldn’t let the existence of close-minded people allow them to make their world smaller, but Robbe thinks it’s about time they do, as painful as it sounds.

Sander nods. 

“I tried helping you, but I wasn’t fast enough,” Sander starts. “I’m sorry about that.” His eyes are still gleaming with the tears he shed earlier. “And I’m sorry we had to go through that, I wished it had never happened...”

Robbe grabs his hand and gives it a gentle squeeze.

“But most of all I’m sorry for what I said and how I treated you after”, Sander continues. “That wasn’t a case of shit happens, Robbe. It could’ve cost us our lives and we should’ve gone to the police, and I know it’s no excuse, but I was afraid. I was so scared, Robbe. I didn’t want to relive that night ever again and just the thought of having to tell someone what happened and go back to those memories, tracing step by step of what and how everything happened killed me, that’s why I told you we shouldn’t go. I’m so sorry.”

Robbe hugs Sander closer and lets his head rest on his shoulder, trying to give him some sort of comfort and seeking some for himself too. He feels Sander dropping a kiss to his hair before he takes another breath and speaks again.

“And the thing with Britt, I….”

Robbe squeezes Sander’s hand. “San, it’s okay.” Because they’ve already talked about that, and Robbe doesn’t want to make Sander talk about all the things that hurt him, hurt them, all at once if he’s not ready for it.

Sander musters up enough courage and goes on anyways. “Somehow I made myself believe it was all my fault and that you’d be better off without me, safer... and I couldn’t bear the thought of something ever happening to you again, Robbe, so I had to keep you away from me. I deliberately tried to push you away, even though I knew it would hurt you, because I thought you being with me would hurt you much more, and I couldn’t have that. That’s why I went to that party and kissed Britt and let her post those stupid photos. As soon as I did it, though, I knew it was wrong. But there was no going back then, it was already too late…” Sander shakes his head. “I’m sorry.”

Robbe starts crying at the same time he feels Sander’s tears falling down on him, so he turns around and climbs into Sander’s lap to hug him as close as humanly possible in that moment. Sander squeezes his shoulders, burying his face on Robbe’s neck, and doesn’t let go.

After some time, when their tears have subsided and they’re just trying to find comfort in each other’s arms Sander rearranges them so they’re sitting in a more comfortable position, facing each other. 

Robbe bites his lips before finding the courage to talk too. He breathes in and out twice before he starts. “The first thing I need you know is that it wasn’t your fault, Sander. None of it was, you know that, right?” 

When Sander nods, he continues. “Please believe it.” 

Robbe gives him a lingering kiss on the forehead before speaking again. “I wish it had never happened to us either and I’m sorry it did. I’m sorry I couldn’t unlock my bike fast enough or reach you when those guys came for us, I was so scared too...” he takes a deep breath. “And I’m sorry we couldn’t support each other the way we needed to in the aftermath.” 

Sander grabs his hands and gives it a squeeze, interlocking their fingers and resting their hands on his lap.

“But the way we reacted wasn’t our fault either, Sander. We both went through a huge trauma that night and what we did afterwards was us barely trying to find a way to cope with whatever was being thrown our way. It hurt, yes. You hurt me, but deep down I always knew there was a deeper meaning behind the things you did. You weren’t doing those things out of spite to purposefully hurt me. You’re not cruel, San. I know you and I know your heart, and I know we weren’t together for long back then, but I knew you then as well. And I knew you wouldn’t want to hurt me just because.”

Robbe disentangles one of his hands from Sander’s grasp and lifts it up to caress his cheek. Sander nuzzles into it and Robbe smiles weakly. He brings their faces close and rests his forehead against Sander’s.  

“But if you need to listen to this to make peace with it I’ll tell you: I forgive you, Sander,” Robbe says sincerely. “I had already forgiven you back then, when you found your way back to me in the flatshare on that Friday night,” he caresses Sander’s cheek again. “But I need you to do something for me too.”

“Anything.” Sander answers in a beat.

“Forgive yourself too,” Robbe whispers. 

Sander nods and hugs Robbe tight against his chest, Robbe’s fingers finding their way to Sander’s hair like it’s second nature and staying there for a long time.

“I’m sorry if I ever made you feel like you couldn’t talk to me about this,” Robbe whispers some time later against Sander’s ear. “What happened that night hurt the both of us, Sander, and if you ever feel the need to talk about it you can talk to me, no matter how much it hurts me. I know it hurts you too.” His voice breaks. “But you’ve always been there for me when I needed you and I want to be there for you too, okay?”

Robbe can feel Sander nodding against him.

“We will get through this together,” Robbe reassures Sander. “It may have taken us a whole year to talk about it, but we finally did it and now we can finally start healing from this together, like we always do.”

Sander’s voice trembles when he speaks. “I know.” 

“I love you, and nothing will ever change that, okay? Please remember it.”

“I love you too. More than anything.”

Robbe closes the distance between them and kisses Sander.

-

They spend the rest of the night in bed curled around each other underneath the covers, still talking about that night, but trying to focus on the good part of it instead. Trying to separate the traumatic event from the happy memories they had from their first date.

“I was feeling like the luckiest man in the world, Robin,” Sander smiles down at Robbe, still playing with his hair that’s going in a million different directions now since Robbe’s been  resting his head on his chest for the past hour. “You looked so pretty in all those lights.”

Sander can feel Robbe’s smile before he sees it. “Despite us only having had that one beer I think I have never felt drunker in my life than I felt that night,” Robbe admits, looking up at Sander, an adorable smile adorning his face. “I guess maybe I was just love drunk.” 

Sander can’t help leaning down to give him a quick kiss.

“I know I keep talking about us going back to that bar until it feels right again because it’s our bar, but you know we have all the time in the world, right?” Sander asks. “It doesn’t have to happen now, or a week from today, or even in the next 10 years, okay? I don’t care if it takes us our whole lifetimes to go back there again, I just want you to feel safe. That’s the only thing that matters.”

“I know,” Robbe reassures him, nodding. “We’ll take things day by day, hour by hour, minute by minute.” He smiles. “We’ll get there eventually.”

Sander nods. “And I’m sorry to bring the topic back,” he says hesitantly, “but if we still want to report what happened to the police we can. There’s no expiration date for these things and it doesn’t matter if they’ll catch whoever did that to us or not, we still have a right to let the police know what happened to us.”

“Thank you,” Robbe whispers. “I know it won’t be easy to talk about it, for neither of us, and I actually don’t even know if I’m ready to talk about this with anyone else besides you for now, but thank you for letting me know.” He rearranges himself in the bed so he can be on Sander’s level and look him in the eyes, both boys now laying on their sides. “When we’re both ready we’ll do it. Together.”

Sander nods and gives him a soft kiss. 

Robbe’s hand travels up to Sander’s face, gently caressing the small scar he has by the side of his eye, making Sander close his eyes at the soft touch. “Thank you for being so patient with me...” Robbe whispers so close to Sander’s mouth that both boys can feel the vibrations of the words on their lips. “... and thank you for tonight.”

Robbe can feel Sander’s small smile on his own lips when he speaks. “There’s no need to thank me, I love you.” He emphasizes his words with a kiss. “And the night didn’t go exactly as planned, so…” He trails off.

“Maybe not, but it happened the way it was supposed to happen this time,” Robbe says. “And I wouldn’t have it any other way, San. I’m exactly where I want to be. Laying in your bed with you, not even an inch separating us from each other,” he reassures him. “I feel like talking about this has made my heart the calmest it’s ever been,” he confesses.

“Mine too,” Sander agrees, smiling.

“See?”, Robbe smiles genuinely at Sander. “I’m happy and I hope that you’re happy too.”

“I am,” Sander’s smile is the most beautiful thing Robbe has ever seen in his life. “I really am.”

[puckyess]

Lady | Shay Donovan

In light of recent events, here’s a real soft Shay. This is based on the song Lady // Brett Young. & To the lovely anons submitting requests, I will get to them eventually I promise!

*** FEEDBACK IS APPRECIATED ***

Words: 1.8k

“I can see your favorite building :)” your screen read. 

The phrase puts a smile on your face and makes your stomach flip, no matter how many times you receive it. Despite him still being miles away from you, you knew exactly what his view was. 

As always, in case you missed his clue, a picture accompanies the text. There it was, the iconic Capitol building lit up like a beacon, surrounded by the city lights that reflected off of the Monona waters. 

Shay was coming home. 

You shuffle in your blanket, shifting your eyes to the window of your apartment that overlooked your favorite building, the one where so many memories had been made. You let your hand come to rest on your now present baby bump and count down the seconds until Shay arrives. 

-

As soon as you hear the lock turn, you’re on your feet. The door swings open and not two seconds later you’re wrapped up in Shay’s arms. 

“There’s my girl” he mumbles into your hair as he rocks the both of you from side to side. 

“Missed you so much” you sigh into his chest. 

Even though he had only been gone a short time for their two games at Michigan State, the pregnancy had made you a little more needy and you wanted nothing more than for Shay to be at your side 24/7. 

“I missed you too, baby. More than you know.” 

You hate the way his voice sounds so strained and tired. You know how much he loves playing hockey, how much he loves being with his brother and the boys, but you also know how much it kills him to have to be away from you during this time. 

“How’s my other baby doing?” He asks with a smile, his hands finding your hips. He holds you out in front of him and crouches down as if he’s getting a better look at the tiny human-to-be. 

You absolutely love how he lights up at the mere mention of the baby. His tone gets softer, already having reserved a special voice for his little girl. 

“I hope you were feeding her more than chips and ice cream while I was gone” he teases you. He tries to pull you in again to kiss your belly, but you bat him away and wiggle out of his grasp. 

“Hey! We love our chips and ice cream, thank you very much” you tell him with your hands on your hips. “Don’t we, sweetie? I’m sorry daddy doesn’t let us have any fun” you coo, looking down at your stomach. 

Shay rolls his eyes with a grin. He’d missed the playfulness that always came with being around you and you’d gotten even more silly since you’d started carrying his child. He swears you’re being influenced by the baby and jokes that that’s how he knew it was his kid, it was already funny, just like him. He knew he was going to be in trouble when he not only had you, but a mini-you running circles around him too. 

“Excuse me, but if I remember correctly, I am the one that keeps the both of you fed on a regular basis so I’d watch the ‘tude there little missies” he teases you back. 

You grin and walk towards him, already ready to be back in his arms again. It was really quite embarrassing how clingy you were, and you really couldn’t even blame it on the pregnancy. It was Shay. You’d always been drawn to him like a magnet, so really it was his fault. 

“This is true, and you really do make delicious food. But we can’t talk about this anymore or you’re going to end up driving all over town to get us exactly what we want to eat and I’d much rather curl up in bed with you right now”. 

He rubs your back and with your head on his chest you can hear his chuckle. “I’d much rather be in bed with you too” and with that he sweeps you off your feet, scooping you up bridal style. He earns a loud giggle from you and his heart skips a beat. It was his favorite sound in the whole world. 

Always the romantic, he tosses you on your side of the bed with a smirk on his face. But then he pulls the covers up for you and makes sure you’re comfortable, tucking you in. He gives you a sweet kiss before he hurries to the bathroom to get ready for bed. 

Even though you know he’s coming back to you, the bed feels empty without him. 

“I can see that pout on your lips from here” he calls from the bathroom. 

You let out a laugh, shaking your head. He knew you all too well. “Then hurry up and come do something about it” you call back to him. 

Just as soon as the words are out of your mouth, the bathroom light turns off and there’s a 6’3 man sprinting through your bedroom and hurling himself onto the bed. 

You’re shrieking with laughter as he invades your space, planting a wet kiss on your cheek. “How was that?” He asks, laughing with that smug look on his face.

You wipe the slobber off your face, still laughing. “Ew, Shay! Get away from me!” 

“I just can’t please you tonight, woman. First it’s ‘come here, Shay’ and then it’s ‘get away from me, Shay’ well which is it, lady?” He mimics you. 

You can’t help but roll your eyes at his dramatics, pulling him closer anyway. “You’re such a pain in the ass, you know that?” 

“But I’m your pain in the ass” he says with a kiss to your forehead. 

You snuggle in close to him. “Always”, you happily sigh. 

He smiles lazily at your response. Now that you both had calmed down, his tiredness was setting in. It had been a few nights since he’d had a good night’s rest. “I’m happy to be home. I always sleep better with you.” 

You turn over at his admission and search his eyes. There’s nothing but love and light there and you think to yourself for the millionth time since meeting him you don’t know how you got so lucky. 

“I sleep better with you too. We both do” you say with an easy smile. 

As if on cue, his hand finds your little baby bump. “I love you so much, Y/N” 

“I love you, Shay”. He can hear the sleepiness in your voice. 

“Sweet dreams, princess” he says with a final kiss to your forehead and those are the last words you hear him say before you drift off to sleep. 

 -

You don’t know how much later it is that you hear Shay’s voice in the middle of the night. He was scooted down the bed so that his face was even with your stomach. He was laying on his side, his arm under his head and his other hand rubbing soft circles across your belly. He was using that same soft voice as earlier and you knew he was talking to the baby. 

“Hi, little lady. It’s daddy again. I hope you weren’t too hard on your mama while I was gone”. He’s silent for a few seconds, like he’s listening to her response. 

“I remember when I first heard your little heartbeat, it had only been eight weeks. I felt so many things before then, but mostly I was excited. Then I heard your heartbeat and standing there, staring at that screen... That was the first time you ever scared me. Everything was so real then, I was going to be a dad. I am going to be a dad”.

“God knows I don’t know exactly what I’m doing”, he says with a little chuckle, “but good news is we’ve got her to get us through it”. 

You try your hardest to not let him know you’re awake because you don’t want to interrupt his time with the baby, but the tears threatening to spill out at his words are making it difficult. 

Shay lets out a wistful sigh and continues talking to the baby. “I hope you look just like your mama and love her like I do. She’s got the biggest, most beautiful heart I know and a face to match it too. It’s funny that she doesn’t think she’s very patient because she’s put up with all that daddy’s thrown at her. I think you’ll see close to perfect patience if you watch her every move.” He goes silent again, trying to think of the right words to say next. 

“I can’t wait to meet you, sweet girl. I can make you laugh until you cry, just like your mama” and then his tone gets serious, “But your mama, she’s the one that’ll make your tears dry. She always knows the right words to say, and when there are no right words, she’ll hold you until everything feels right. She’ll hear you, and help you through. She’ll fix you, and daddy too. She’s our angel, little lady.” 

“You can always run to daddy, okay? No matter what it is. You’ll always be my baby. But look at mama, baby girl and you’ll learn how to be a lady. She’s everything.”

You wipe away the few tears you had shed and let your hand fall into Shay’s curls. He looks up at you with a soft smile. “I was just talking to little lady, here”. 

You loved his nickname for the baby, one he had chosen ever since you had found out you were having a little girl. 

“I know”, you smiled at him through the darkness. 

He crawls back up the bed and takes his place beside you. His hand reaches up and brushes away the hair from your face. 

“You’re going to be such a great dad, Shay” you whisper to him. 

His eyes twinkle and the smile on his face is something you can't describe. You half expect a smart remark, something like “of course I am”, but he responds instead with, “And you are going to be the best mom, Y/N. I already know it”.

It seems like there’s both so much to say, but also nothing left to say so you close the small distance between the two of you with a kiss. It’s full of all the questions and answers you don't know how to say. It’s a promise to each other and so full of love that you know your little lady is the luckiest girl in the world.

[crowleyellestair]

For A Swim - Jaskier blurb

AN// This is a silly little thing, but here it is.

Summary: Jaskier goes for an involuntary dip with a creature, and Y/n has to perform CPR.

 Velen was a bog filled with monsters and disappointment. Thugs and vagrants filled every nook and cranny of the area, and the trio had been on guard for days traveling the lands. There had been a contract to take out a mysterious fog creature in the thickest part of the swamp but it seemed to be an easier job. Foglets were never easy, but it could have been worse.

And then it got worse.

The fog had cleared, even as Geralt still had to dispatch of the magic projections that still lingered from the creature, when Y/n noticed a Water Hag. It wasn’t a surprise that one was here, but it did mean she needed to turn her attention from her bard. Jaskier was seated safely on a rock at the edge of the water, with a high enough vantage point where there would be no need for him to move closer. Y/n moved from her spot next to him to engage with the hag. The two had giving the witcher commentary as usual, but whenever she got involved with the fight, Jaskier only had eyes on her.

Little shouts of encouragement were thrown, or little gasps of fear could be picked up when she miss-stepped. Today was no different, so as she rolled through shallow water and dogged the lump of mud thrown her way, she heard the proud ‘nice one’ that slipped from him. It wasn’t smart to listen to him in the heat of battle- she knew that well. Every time she sparred with the witcher, Jaskier would watch and comment, usually complementing her, and it would lead to Geralt winning. The witcher would lecture her on how losing focus would get her killed, but no matter how hard she tried, no matter the situation, her mind always finds its way back to Jaskier.

The Hag’s tongue whipped out from its mouth, venom dripping with every swipe through the air. She pirouetted out of the way, her back to the creature. It fell for her trick, lashing its muscle towards her, but Y/n threw a perfect perry. She looped the sword around its tongue and put all of her strength in bringing the blade to the ground, effectively cutting the tongue of. Loud shrieks fell from its mouth, and a small cheer came from her right as the bard approved of her move. Geralt stood to her left, ready to join as he finished the Foglet off for good. They both moved in tandem, dogging mud being thrown, and claws striking against their blades. There was a moment of stillness in their fight, where the Hag seemed to rethink its strategy, when Y/n heard a familiar gasp. She hadn’t miss-stepped, so she turned to look at why fear took an audible form from Jaskier. It was in that moment when she saw him being drawn backwards off the rock, and into the water behind him.

Y/n all but threw her sword down, running to the rock. Geralt called after her, but she was busy ripping her jacket off. Once she was free of the heavy layer, she dove from the rock. The water was murky, and her heart pounded so fast that she knew her air supply was short. Only the movement of mud alerted her to where he was. She found a leg and grabbed on, pulling against whatever was holding him. Y/n was frantic, and fear set in quickly. After a moment of aimless jostling, she tried to move up his body, finding a scaled claw in his collar.

Curses flooded her mind as she didn’t have a weapon on her.

Think.

Think!

You’ll lose him.

Time’s running out.

It hit her fast, remembering he kept a small pen knife in the lining of his trousers. Her hand fumbles for a moment, ripping it from the cloth, and embedding it in the creature’s hand. It was quick to release the bard, and she was even quicker to start bringing them to the surface. The edges of her vision started to blur, but air flooded her lungs as she reached the surface. Geralt was at the edge of the water, grabbing her arm and dragged the two to the shore.

Geralt laid Jaskier down, but it was clear that he couldn’t hear the bard breath by his worried expression. Y/n pushed him out of her way as she ripped the doublet open. Tears started to prick her eyes, and her breathing became labored. Still, her hands started to compress against his chest. A shaky version of Toss a Coin left her as the song gave a great rhythm to perform CPR. Geralt helped by tipping his head back, and closing his nose.

“O valley of plenty, o valley of plenty. You’re not allowed to die, Jaskier. There’s so much we have yet to do- so much time to spend.” Y/n leaned to his mouth and started to breath. She quickly went back to the compressions, then back to breathing into him. During the next round of compressions, Geralt’s hand dropped onto her shoulder, but she couldn’t stop. More tears ran down her still damp cheeks, and she went to breath again. Her lips met his, when he started to cough. He curled onto his side to let the water out of his system, and she scooped him into her arms. Her grip was tight, but he didn’t fight it as he drew deep, ragged breaths. After a moment, his arms wrapped around her waist best he could, ang he nuzzled into her collar bone. There were a few more moments of silence until Jaskier broke the air.

“It wasn’t my fault-.” His tone was playfull, but Y/n’s hands cupped his cheeks and pulled him away to look into his eyes.

“If you ever- ever try to leave me like that again…. No more hunts for you.” Her right hand moved up to be able to brush wet clumps of hair from his forehead. Her lip still shook, and Jaskier tightened his hold. Y/n couldn’t stop replaying the events behind her eyelids despite him being safe in her arms.

“I’m sorry.”

“You’re damn right. I don’t care if it was that creature, you’re not allowed to be in harms way.” Geralt interjected.

“Creature?” She nodded, but didn’t look away from her bard.

“Drowner I think. I injured it, but I don’t know where it went. We also need to get you a new knife. I don’t care if you didn’t want the last one, you’re getting a new one. Or three.”

“Anything,” to calm you. The words weren’t spoken, but the thumb he placed on her bottom lip to still it was symbol enough.

It was silent most of the way back to the inn. They received payment, and bought two rooms. Jaskier had finally looked down at himself in the inn’s mirror and wasn’t fond of what he saw. The outfit was ripped and still damp, and behind him, Y/n was just as wet and looking down anxiously. It was a look he didn’t want to see on her again.

“To bad I couldn’t witness you ripping my doublet open. I bet it was a sight to see.” Again, his tone was playful, but was met with a serious one. She simply started shedding her clothes, not sparing him a glance.

“I’ll buy you a new one. As many as you like.” He turned, and captured her hands. Her eyes found his, and he could see the fear still gripping her.

“I’m sorry.”

“It wasn’t your fault. You’re ok, and that’s what matters.” Y/n tried to pull away, but he yanked back, her chest meeting his, and his arms caught her in an embrace.

“You’re still fearful. What can I do to ease you of that?” His nose dug into her hair, and he closed his eyes in waiting. It took her a couple tries before she exhaled.

“I almost lost you without having the chance to…” Jaskier’s heart started to pound, knowing where it was going. He knew- knew she loved him back. The last thing he wanted to do was push her, though, so never made a move past flirting and a caring hand.

“Well, Darling, I’m here now. You can tell me anything.” Y/n leaned back, seeing the hopeful and encouraging smile on his face. It was what she needed to finally admit,

“I love you, Julian.”

“And I you, my dearest Y/n.” She sighed, closing her eyes. She seemed to revel in the moment, in the feeling of his arms around her.

“May I kiss you, dear heart?” Y/n smiled, but there was that specific tilt to the corner that told him she was up to something.

“We kissed earlier, my star.” His heart skipped a beat at the name, and smiled. It soon dropped when the confusion set in.

“I don’t remember such a momentous moment.”

“Well, yes. You were unconscious, and I was technically resuscitating you, but my lips touched yours. Twice.” Her eyes were still closed, so to grab her attention, he dipped her. Her hands grabbed at the ends of the frayed doublet, and a gasp left her. Y/n’s gaze snapped open to find her bard smirking.

“Then I want another.”

[normal-thoughts-official]

UWU I'm in the mood for some Raphael talk, I love the headcanon you've talked about in the chat about Raphael tolerating Alec only because he makes his dad happy (which is so damn valid of him), and it's one of my most fave things do you have more slightly silly headcanons about it?

you really want me to be beaten up huh may. you want them to come for me again. you want to ruin my life

okay disclaimer Alec stans pwease dont hate me uwu I'm not saying i hate Alec I'm saying that i dont think Raphael would vibe with him. especially after the whole punch which I'll never get over cuz like i KNOW rationally that alec didnt have the full story and if izzy was hurt and sitting beside a white shadowhunter he would go there and beat them up all the same cuz alec's like this, but I'm still upset eidndidjdid my boy doesnt deserve this okay

anyway with that being said

i dont think its Raphael like, genuinely hating him as much as them having nothing in common besides their mutual love for Magnus and desire to see him happy. so Raphael can tolerate him fine, but he's not exactly dying to be best friends. besides, alec's like, all of the most annoying things about shadowhunters (all serious, never fucking relaxes, must have a weapon close at all times, doesn't understand food, doesn't listen to music, doesnt-) that arent like straight up nazist bigotry. so hes just like. ugh. whatever. I'm here for Magnus. leave pls

i can absolutely see that tbh Raphael just goes to their house and is all like "Alec leave i want to talk to Magnus" and alec's like "this is my house?" and raphael's like "and?" and alec's like "Fine, ill take a walk. Magnus, Raphael is here." but he also kisses Magnus goodbye in front of Raphael because he can, in fact, be an ass

also i know i told u about that already but Raphael lowkey challenges him every time like. he'll come by Magnus' and bring food, and of course theres food for 3 because Raphael is not gonna be that rude and he doesn't want to make Magnus feel like Raphael wants him to choose between Raphael and Alec. Alec makes Magnus happy and Raphael would never want to make Magnus feel like his love or presence in his life is conditional. Plus, he doesn't actually hate him. Just a little.

anyway so he brings the food and he's like (clearly judgemental tone) "i brought hot sauce because i figured Alec doesn't usually eat spicy food" and he's obviously correct, Alec had never eaten anything with season in his life before he met Magnus, much less pepper. he's the kind of ultimate, boss-level gringo who puts salt on his food when he's feeling adventurous

so Raphael sits down and puts the food on his plate and he pours hot sauce into his plate while making unwavering eye contact with Alec (yeah raphael can eat in this because he deserves it and i said so) and it's an obvious challenge and it evidently works because Alec 1- is competitive, and 2- actually wants Raphael's respect because he knows how important he is to Magnus. so he takes the salsa from Raphael and starts pouring it too while maintaining eye contact right back, jaw clenched in challenge, looking all serious and Magnus is like "children, please" and raphael's all like "oh no no no, let him" but Alec considers that a win because Raphael is clearly trying to contain a smile and thats the first step to winning him over

so anyway Alec sweats and grimaces through the whole meal, cuz like, look yes he may have pain tolerance because he's a shadowhunter but he's also the bitch who reacted to taking a sip of beer like someone had farted on his face. he can't hide his reactions for shit, but fuck if he doesn't lick the plate clean (not literally like gross) and doesn't shed a single tear, even as he clearly can't keep his eyes open with the effort

Magnus is like "Alexander, you dont have to do this" and alec's like "(eyes squeezed shut, grimacing, drenched in sweat) do what? this is very good" and Raphael is smiling into his plate even as Magnus shoots him dirty looks

then Alec is like "i won. i ate it all" and Raphael is like "(looking at his red sweaty face and puffy eyes) really?"

also look ill always love the hc that Raphael resents Alec for his height and Alec doesnt even notice. Raphael is not short, god damn it, hes 175! thats TEN whole centimeters above the mexican average! he was the tallest boy in Guadalajara! RAPHAEL IS TALL, OKAY

EXCEPT everyone in the goddamn shadow world is apparently a god damn giant. Its humiliating enough that Magnus is 180. but Magnus is his dad, so whatever. but Alec is FUCKING 190. no one needs that much tall. no one! Raphael went from being the tallest boy in the neighborhood to the shortest, and boy he is so not pleased about it

but Alec has no idea because who cares? (Raphael. Raphael cares. deeply. he cares so much) it's not even good to be that tall, he keeps banging his head on things. so there will be moments like. Raphael is standing in front of the bookshelf, seeming very focused. Alec shrugs, figures he's looking for something, and puts the book he was going to put there up. Raphael shoots him a dirty look that might as well be a stab, and Alec's like ???????? did i disrupt you? sorry? and Raphael just crosses his arms like "you didnt do anything, i dont know what you're talking about"

in reality the shelf was too high up because Magnus adjusted his shelves to his and Alec's height, and Raphael refused to stand on his tiptoes or god forbid, a stool, to grab his book, so he was just glaring at the shelf until the book came to him or something. and when Alec put the book up he was mad cuz Alec could reach it fjdndid

later Alec tells Magnus about it like "i dont get what i did. is he just that private?" and Magnus is like "hmm. i have no idea, darling" but next time Raphael comes, the shelves have been spelled to adjust to the book picker's height

also this always makes me think of that scene in hsm where zeke tries to talk to sharpay and she goes "evaporate, tall person!" and leaves and i love that mental image tbh

also like. eventually Alec apologizes for the punching thing (look. look. Im still salty and Raphael deserves it okay) and Raphael is like. moved because something deep inside of him still believed it was his fault and he was a monster, and it's. nice. and Alec kind of extends his arms and Raphael is like "dont think so" and crosses his arms and Alec kind of very very slowly lifts his arm and pats Raphael's head once and Raphael wants to scream and Alec looks very awkward and sheepish and Magnus bursts out laughing

(Raphael doesnt mind, though, because Magnus is genuinely so happy all day that they had a good interaction. so happy. and Raphael thinks, okay, this is okay. it's good if it makes Magnus happy.)

(Magnus also pats his head and plays with his hair, but its okay because Magnus has always done that and Raphael doesnt mind. only from him though. and raphael's partners. but anyway)

plus whenever Magnus is like, upset, or sick or something, theyre like. an unit. because for all they have no common interests they do think very alike (autistic solidarity i guess) and are very practical when it comes to taking care of others, and they both just. adore Magnus, okay. so Raphael will arrive, make Magnus soup. while he makes soup, Alec stays with him and takes his temperature. once Raphael is back with the soup, Alec goes out to buy medicine, and Raphael stays with him to make him company. and so on. at some point Alec is almost falling asleep by Magnus' side and Raphael taps his shoulder and points to the chair nearby, and Alec nods and dozes off for a while. then its the other way around. Magnus isnt seriously sick, of course, but he doesn't usually get sick so it's an event, plus they're both Like This. and for all the grief they give each other, they trust each other to take care of Magnus. theres no argument about that

(Magnus was resting, but he did see some of these moments, and smiled a bit to himself before dozing off again)

also Raphael and Ragnor gave Alec the ultimate shovel talk (Ragnor doesn't trust anyone after Camille, and while neither do cat and dot, they were more chill), but it lowkey backfired because they were like "if you ever hurt him, we'll remove your kneecaps" and Alec was like "(nodding seriously) thats fair"

also i know we've talked about this already but i also love the idea that Raphael goes to their house and is all absentmindedly like "hm can i have some coffee" and alec's like "sure, ill make it :) you stay here and talk to Magnus" and when Alec comes back he hands Raphael his coffee in a "best. bonus son. ever" mug and then he leans back against the wall, sipping his own coffee from his "world's #1 stepdad" mug that he bought himself, trying to hide his shit eating grin, and Raphael scowls and deliberately holds it so his hand covers the words, and Magnus laughs and his eyes shine as he sips his tea.

(later, Raphael is like. guess me and lightwood have a dynamic now. gross. but he still rolls with it)

in short Raphael and Alec being little shits to each other but still building something of a relationship for Magnus and always taking care of him..... ultimate trope

[monstaxdesires]

The Arrangement (Chapter Ten)

(Chapter One) (Chapter Two) (Chapter Three) (Chapter Four) (Chapter Five) (Chapter Six) (Chapter Seven) (Chapter Eight) (Chapter Nine)

Shownu knocked on the thick oak door of the library before stepping inside. He shed his coat jacket draping it on the back of his chair before he joined Kihyun in one of the overstuffed chairs.

“Want something to drink?” He asks casually without looking up from his work.

Shownu nods once. Moments later the butler is handing him a glass tumbler with dark amber liquor. He takes a sip and sighs, settling back in the chair.

“Everything okay?” Kihyun asks, looking up from his file once the quiet settles again.

“I’m not sure,” Shownu answers before shifting forward to balance his elbows on his knees. “You did a loan a couple months ago to a man. He has recently fallen behind on payments and the daughter has assumed the debt. She was delivered a letter today on payment method. Do you know much about it?”

Kihyun licks his bottom lip letting the file fall shut. “I do. Why?”

“It’s her Kihyun, she’s the daughter.”

“Who?”

“My companion. The one I was introduced to by Wonho. You met her at the dinner a few weeks ago."

Kihyun’s head drops and he groans. He lifts his head meeting Shownu’s gaze head on. “Please don’t ask me to forgive this loan Shownu. If I do it makes me look bad and vulnerable. I won’t forgive so don’t ask.”

“I’m not going to,” Shownu says sitting back in the chair again and taking another sip. “I just want her to be safe. She is panicking because you know things about her that she wasn’t aware you knew. She is safe with you right?”

“She is,” he nods, before opening his file again. “Can I ask you something? As a friend.”

“Sure,” Shownu says before taking another sip and waiting.

“Why her? She was initially on Wonho’s list, but then you took her after she denied him. Wonho really likes her, you know that right? So why her?”

Shownu looks at his lap, swirling the liquid before clearing his throat. “I don’t know Kih. There is something about her and I could offer her what Wonho couldn’t.”

Kihyun laughs. “Okay.”

“What’s so funny?” Shownu mutters, quirking an eyebrow at the younger man who seemed a little too amused with that answer.

Kihyun rolls his shoulders, shifting in his armchair. “Tell you later. You aren’t ready for it yet.” Kihyun takes a sip out of his own glass before tipping his head at him. “Have you had dinner yet?”

“Yes, I had dinner with her.”

“Okay, well I would offer you one of mine for company, but we both know you are a one woman man even if she’s not signed on for that… yet.”

Shownu shakes his head without saying anything. “I’ll leave you to your fun,” he replies before getting up and pats his friend on the shoulder before leaving. He felt better and he hoped he would be able to make you feel better now.

————-

Your first payment had been paid after Shownu had confirmed the payment method to be valid. He had assured you that you were not in harms way and that he would step in if he ever deemed you were unsafe, but in respect to you that he would allow you to handle the payments.

Now you sat alone on your sofa, in comfortable clothes, eating ice cream, while a drama played. Shownu had cancelled dinner and you were not sure why, but he had asked to reschedule for another time. A sharp knock at your door pulled your attention as you got up and made your way to the door after setting your ice cream down.

You look out your peep hole and see Shownu standing there. You pull the door open and tip your head in confusion. “Shownu?”

“Hey,” he says stepping forward and pressing a quick kiss to your temple. He moves into the apartment and you notice a bottle of wine and bag of takeout in his hands.

“Oh, you brought dinner,” you comment while he busies himself and sets the items down on the counter. A laugh leaves him when he picks up your ice cream container. You bite your lip and he tips it to gauge how empty it was.

“Have you eaten actual food?”

“Nope.”

He shakes his head before putting the ice cream back in the freezer and coming to you. His hand takes yours pulling you to the items he had brought. “Have dinner with me?”

“Why?”

He shrugs. “You still need three hours this week and I am free now.”

You step back and move to turn off your tv and fold your blanket. “Can I ask what made you cancel since you showed up anyways?”

“You can,” he says and you lift your head to look at him. He grins before taking the initiative to go through your cabinets in search of plates and glasses. “My parents surprised me and brought over some things they picked up in Singapore. We had lunch and I thought they were going to stay for dinner as well but my father was tired so they went home earlier than planned. ”

“Oh,” you mumble before sitting on the arm of your sofa. You look at the soft rug under your feet. He pauses, watching you.

“What’s wrong?”

“Nothing,” you shake your head, and pull at the hem of your oversized sweater to get your emotions in check, before meeting his gaze with a warm smile. “Just thinking.”

He goes back to prepping before taking everything to your table. You admire him, his dark jeans hugging to his legs along with a dark blue button up. He looked good. He reaches his hand out for you and you sigh softly. You go to sit with him letting him hold your hand for a moment. After a beat he releases you and you sip the wine before taking a first bite. Shownu keeps looking at you, trying to read what’s on your mind. You pause mid bite.

He lifts an eyebrow before reaching back for you hand. “What’s on your mind?”

“Don’t worry about it. Please eat.” You shake your head taking another sip. He gives in and starts eating his food but keeps checking on you.

After you’ve finished you take the plates to clean up and put everything away. The conversation had been limited and Shownu had picked up on it. Shownu refills your glasses at the table before watching you start the clean up process.

“Something is bothering you,” he murmurs. You don’t look up, instead continuing to wash your plates. He moves forward and starts to dry them. He nudges you with his elbow. “Talk to me. It’s the only way this works.”

“It’s nothing you’ve done or anything like that. Just a realization at something.”

“What? I can listen, I’m good at it.”

You turn to look at him, leaning against the side of the sink. He waits patiently without looking at you as he continues drying the plates.

“I will never meet anyone as your friend or anything like that. Hell, I probably am not your friend either. I’m just the girl that gets to hang on your arm at events or dinners out in the city while getting paid for it. I had not thought much past getting what we both needed. I didn’t think about how I would be portrayed or how it would make me feel since I was comprising my moral standards, but I can tell you I feel like crap right now.”

He lifts an eyebrow, confused.

“It’s fine Shownu, it’s just weird being the secret. I’ve never been the secret.” You mutter and walk away.

He follows and watches you pick up your wine glass before going to the sofa and sitting down. He grabs his own before taking the spot next to you. You glance at him before turning away and taking a sip. His touch is gentle as he lays his hand on your back.

“Please don’t,” you whisper, voice cracking, as you get up and move away to the doors leading to your balcony.

You step out before sighing, trying to let it all fade away. Shownu watches you from the sofa. He didn’t realize how much this would affect you. You glance at him before turning away.

“You can go if you want. I’m okay with not meeting the minimum if you are. And just try harder next week. I promise I won’t break the contract, I just need a minute to wrap my head around this new revelation.”

“I’m not leaving you like this, not during our first week,” he says gently before setting his glass to the side and standing to move to you. “I should have clarified better. It’s my fault considering you have not done this before.”

You nod, biting your bottom lip. “I get it now. I just wasn’t ready for that harsh slap of reality so soon. I don’t really have a personal life so I didn’t realize that people really do have one that they keep separate from business.”

Shownu frowns. “But your parents and friends…”

“My dad lives hours away, at least five hours on the train, and my mother died a long time ago. I am an only child. And since moving here I’ve just focused on work so outside of work it’s just me.” You mutter before resting your hands on the railing continuing to fight the burn of tears. “I’m being silly and dramatic I know, but it’s not fun being alone all the time. Most days I ignore it and find a way to enjoy it, some days I can’t. Guess today is one of those days.”

“Believe me I know,” Shownu says softly before moving forward.

You close your eyes when his arms slip around your waist to pull you into his chest. You turn into him and let him hold you for a moment.

“You aren’t alone anymore. You have me,” he says before his lips brush your temple. “Arrangement or not, I am here for you.”

“Thank you,” you whisper and he smiles squeezing his arms to hold you tighter. You peek up at him and he moves his hand up to stroke your hair.

“You have a friend in me, always.”

“Same. Even though you are technically my benefactor I see you as a friend first.”

“Good. Come inside, it’s a little chilly out here and we can watch a movie. Distract you from the ‘revelation’ for a little bit.”

“Okay,” you agree and he pulls you in and shuts the door for you before pulling you into the couch. After he is sitting down he reaches up to pull you down into him. Your head rests on his shoulder, hand stroking up and down your thigh while you lay curled up with a blanket wrapped around you both.

“You pick,” he says and you smile before taking the remote and scrolling to find something you would both enjoy.

(Chapter Eleven)

[sleepdeprivedheretic]

Kill Me Hardly (Ch.3)

Warnings: Poorly written violence, blood, drugs, gangs, blood and PTSD

@youtubequeens *Evanescence plays in the background *

………..

“I never noticed that he was in a gang, until later.” You commented. Taishiro was back into his usual villain getup, effortlessly stalking into the night as you observed him. He didn’t say anything, yet, but you knew that he was listening.

“I was too busy in school, focusing on my career, making my parents proud, that I didn’t realize that the friends that my brother hanged out with, were sharing their drugs with him.” You continued as he fitted himself neatly against the dark alley wall.

“Must’ve sucked.”

“It did. I always felt so guilty, as if I was the one who failed to reach out to him. I think it’s part of the reason why I couldn’t hate him, fully for doing this to me.” You murmured out the words lowly, but he heard them. His eye twitched as he gave you a dark, unyielding look.

“Fucker knew what he was doin’ when he joined some dope heads. Stop findin’ fault in other’s bratty behavior.” He grumbled out. Your shoulders sagged in relief, getting the pain off of your chest as he continued down the dark twists and turns of the alleyway. You didn’t need to say anything, for you were excited for your first mission, and didn’t want to squander it, or get him in trouble.

The thought surprised you. You knew him for a short amount of time, and yet you felt uncannily at ease with him. He listened to you and even came to your defense. He was an unhinged guy who had that bittersweet viewpoint on life, and oddly enough, you found that you didn’t really care.

 He was alright, despite all of his flaws. You had come to a conclusion, that you wanted him to see a better viewpoint on life, and to not be afraid of his own emotions. You weren’t a guardian angel, nor were you a savior, you were a normal college student who was on the brink of graduating. Yet, you wanted to at least do this for somebody who obviously was hurting from his past, and although it was unsaid, the both of you knew that this was his shoddy way to atone for whatever he was hurting from.

You didn’t know how much time that you had, left, and that scared you.

“Check to make sure that those lowlifes are busy, yeah?” He glanced at you as the two of you finally made your destination. It was a hideaway from a growing gang who thought that they were safe, as they were afflicted with the Yakuza. What they didn’t know, was that the dangerous organization had it’s headquarters somewhere else in the city, not really around the parts where young hotshots liked to terrorize.

You poked your head through the wall, taking the scene in front of you. They were surprisingly a little older than you first thought they were, huffing out smoke from something that wasn’t cigarettes, as they laughed, kicking an empty beer can as they joshed among themselves. You eyes couldn’t help but scan them, trying to seek a familiar face. To your relief, your brother wasn’t there. You peeked back at Taishiro.

“They’re older adults, drunk and high on pot, laughing like hyenas. You’re good to go.” You gave a thumbs up as he then smiled darkly, cracking his knuckles underneath the leather gloves, as the atmosphere shifted into something more dangerous. As if he was a lion or a tiger, he bolted into action from his hiding spot. The hair on the back of your neck prickled as you couldn’t help but feel the need to watch.

You flinched as the swift but deadly action unfolded before your eyes as you peered back towards the group.

 Not giving them the time to acknowledge his presence, Tai had already delivered a sickening punch to one man’s head, causing the others to yell and scream as their comrade fell to the ground with a thud, blood trickling out of his nose as he blinked slowly, alive but losing consciousness. You had to admit, you felt a little sick to your stomach at such violent action, yet on your toes as he dodged punches, bats, and knives, growling out in fervor, yet dealing the younger fighters with ease.

You were a college student, you weren’t use to the darkness of your city’s streets. You shouldn’t be use to the sight of blood and gore, yet for a year, it’s basically what you’ve been forced to see as restless, roaming ghosts and spirits haunted the concrete jungle slowly. Seeing blood spilled so violently, only deterred you a little as the fight ended quickly.

As if then noticing your staring, he turned towards you, a look of disbelief and malice etched onto his expression as the blood on his leather gloves and his amber irises glinted in the moonlight.

“What the fuck are you doing?” He demanded rather roughly, and you couldn’t help but blanch a little at the tone.

“Oh? What did I do, now?” You asked, appearing in front of him.

“Watching! Yer not suppose to watch! This is no sight for a lil’ woman like yerself!” He growled out, and you looked up at him as your own annoyance started bubbling within you.

“I’m use to seeing blood and gore, remember?”

“It doesn’t mean you can see more of it!” He snapped. You huffed, glaring up at him as you felt a splash of anger wash over you.

“Does it honestly matter? This isn’t my first rodeo in seeing blood splatter, if you recall.” You tilted your head, letting the never-healing gouge in your neck glint within the moonlight. He stiffened, eyes widening in realization, yet you weren’t really finished.

“What do you expect when you offered a violent mission, Tai-chan? Me to pop in and out and just go...wherever, while you fight? I can’t alert anybody if you get injured or in danger, but nobody deserves to really be alone, right?” Your voice softened a little at the end, the word ‘home’ on the tip of your tongue.

 “Sorry.” He grunted out, and it was your turn to be surprised.

“It’s fine...but...why did you lash out like that?” You stalled your sentence, thinking of which words to say as a moment passed the two of you. Outwardly sighing, he collected the young gangster’s money as they laid asleep on the concrete floor.

“I’ll tell ya when we get back.”

“Do you really want to?”

“Fuck no.”

“Alright then, let’s just go before the cops come.” You offered, he looked at you with surprise.

“No egging me on an’ forcin’ me to say shit?”

“It’s not really healthy.” You offered, and he stared at you, finally sighing as he shrugged, the two of you swiftly yet discreetly heading back to his apartment in the dead of night.  

……….

 You didn’t lose count of the days, as you begged Tai to basically put a circle on the day he had first met you, so you wouldn’t lose track of time. A month of bickering and bantering slowly bled into two. He didn’t shed any more light on his past, and you didn’t bring it up, deciding to let him let it out on his terms. Two months had passed.

Two months of break-ins, fights, violence, and giving money, items, and news to the ones in need, really shed some light onto your acquaintance. He admitted, that having you around was much easier, and although you felt elated, you were still at a stalling confusion with your original plans. You wanted to help him, but you really didn’t know how. So, you talked. About your brother, your parents, how you had planned on making an appearance to your parents on Halloween, saying that in some traditions, people can see the ghosts of their loved ones on that special night.

He listened to every word you said, you’ve been noticing. A dark, sad glint filtered through his eyes, and you quickly shifted the conversation to something else, a funnier story of the simpler times of your childhood.  

Your partnership, you admitted, shifted. He was still snappy, but it lessened a bit more over the two months, now that he had finally somebody to really sit down and talk to. You let your guard down a little bit more, freely admitting to your thoughts and wishes as he bleached the blood off of his clothes, remarking on how silly you were from time to time.

Remarkably, your fights weren’t really long, nor violent. The two of you were adults. You knew which boundaries to respect, and he never twisted a knife into your vulnerable feelings towards such things as your brother and parents.

Then, that day happened. The day that made you feel as if your blood ran cold. While he was asleep on his day off, you felt a strong urge to visit your body. Not thinking twice, you made your way towards the hospital, ignoring the people who shivered in confusion as you passed through them, making your way effortlessly into the hospital, nearing the familiarity of your body’s white walled residence. You stilled, seeing that you weren’t alone.

“-I’m so sorry. I know it’s not easy for the both of you, but her body is getting worse, and by that time, there might not be a recovery when, or if she wakes up.” The doctor peered at your parent’s shaking forms with guilt and sadness. Time for you seemed to stop dead still as the conversation continued. Your heartbeat drumming in your ears as you took in whatever information you didn’t know, in.

As your father sat up and shook the doctor’s hand, you fled. Distraught and fear gripped you as the words sunk in and twisted your guts.  

“Where the hell where ya?!” Taishiro demanded angrily as you arrived to his place. His furious demeanor stilled to a halt as he then took in your expression. He never seen this side of you, looking worn and exhausted.

“O-oi! Why’re you cryin’? What the hell happened?” He blurted out, hands clenched into fists.

“They’re going to cut the machine in two months time. My body’s getting weaker. I’ll be back, later.” Was all you said before you floated away. You weren’t sure where you were going, but you didn’t want to think. All you wanted to do was curl up in your own bed and cry. You didn’t dare enter your bedroom after the incident, but really, you wanted nothing more at this moment, you then decided.  

You choked out a sob, letting the sight greet you. It was as if you were never on the floor a year prior, choking and spitting up your own blood as it dripped onto the carpet. Said thing was missing, now, and you probably knew that your parents couldn’t deal with getting the blood-stains out.

 All of your old clothes and old toys laid neatly on your bed, cards, macaroni art, and pictures scattered the floor. Distinctively, you knew that your mother had been looking through them. You fell to your knees, gripping your chest as a broken sob tore through you. Nobody could hear it, you thought. Nobody could see the droplets of a phantom’s tears faze through the hardwood floor. For the first time in what seemed forever, you screamed in a choked cry, letting everything that had been building up, out.

Crawling into your bed, you sniffled as you took in all the familiar scents as sob after sob wracked through you.

You’ll apologize to Taishiro, later, for missing out on a mission, you decided as for once, an eerie comfortable sleep washed over you.

You awoke with a jolt, a little bit of drool dribbled down you chin as you felt although relaxed, you didn’t feel the warmth or safety of your covers that you missed so much. Ever since being a ghost, you were limited to how much you were able to feel, and warmth, sadly, wasn’t a luxury. It was night. You slept all throughout the day, and you felt a little groggy.

You had a feeling that he wouldn’t hold it against you, you knew.

When you arrived at his place, you stilled in shock, staring at his sleeping form nestled too large on the couch, wrapping his arms around a pillow with half of his face buried into it. He was cute, you couldn’t help but think, letting your hand float literally through blond locks as he snored softly, his mouth wide open while drooling slightly. You chuckled despite feeling your heart lurch with a particular feeling. No, you berated yourself. You couldn’t do that. You shouldn’t feel that.

As if sensing your presence, his eyelids slid open as he adjusted his surroundings.

“Hello.” You said softly, his attention drifted to you, taking in your form.

“Hey.” He said into a yawn, rubbing his eyes as he sat up, the blanket falling off of his form. You let your eyes linger a little too long as your realized that he was wearing only boxers. You berated yourself from staring to long, looking away quickly before he could catch you.

“No job?” You asked. He shrugged.

“Didn’ feel like it. How’re ya farin’?” He asked, demeanor oddly calmer and softer than what you were expecting.

“I...went to my bedroom. Where it happened. Mom piled up a bunch old stuff on the bed, it looked as if she was looking through them.” Your voice cracked a little, but you bit your lip as you sat beside him.

“That’s fuckin’ tough, y’know. Ya goin’ through all these fuckin’ rough patches, and they’re finally gonna let ya die.”

“It’s what I’ve been wanting.” You said quietly. “To die, or wake up. I can’t feel anything, Tai-chan. Not warmth, closure, what it’s like to feel safe wrapped up in a blanket. Nothing. I can focus my energy to rest on certain places, but never feel the smooth surfaces of wood or the tickling feel of blades of grass….I’m just….exhausted.” You admitted softly.

“Fucking hell.” Taishiro’s voice snapped you out of his thoughts, and to your absolute surprise and shock, wetness dripped down his cheeks as he gritted his teeth. You blinked in surprise as his eyebrows furrowed.

“Taishiro…” Slipped out.

“F-fuck! I’m fine! I’m headin’ to bed! I’ll talk to ya later, shitty ghost!” He made an odd noise that was between a huff and a sniff, and you watched in awe as he all but thundered to his bedroom.

Silence enveloped you as you took in what had happened. You were alone with your thoughts for quite a while as you then took notice of the flickering candle in the far corner. Edging closer to it, you could smell soft vanilla wafting through the air. A speck of red had caught your attention, and you looked down, noticing the pack of not so empty cigarettes were laying unceremoniously in the little white trash bin underneath one of the shelves.

“They’re not healthy for you.” You jumped, spinning around at Tai’s voice. He was quiet, like a cat, and you didn’t notice how long he’s been standing there, while you mused.

“C’mon, we need to talk.” There was no room for argument in his statement, and you closed your mouth as he gave you such a serious, intense look.

“Okay.”

[cynicalrainbows]

Inner Voice Chapter 7

Fluffy fluffy ending after all the trauma.

The conversation drifts away, as Anna’s phone buzzes with a text and Anne starts teasing her when she won’t tell them who it’s from. After a moment, Jane unpeels herself from the group and stands up, has an urgent whispered conversation with the director and comes back.

‘You’re having the rest of the day off, alright love?’

‘What?’ She wonders for a moment if she’s being sent home in disgrace- but Jane doesn’t look annoyed.

‘So you can rest- I checked and Grace is happy to go on as you for the night so it won’t put anyone out.’

‘It’s fine-’ She brushes at her sore, swollen eyes, hoping they go back to normal before the first show.

‘Really Kitty-’ Catalina gently touches her arm. ‘You need to take care of yourself. After all of that….you need some downtime, I think.’ 

She can feel herself blushing at the reference to her….. She isn’t even sure what to call it. She’d know the words if she was back at Court: a disgrace, an embarrassment, a shameful display, but she doesn’t feel like the others would quite agree with her somehow.

‘I could still go on-’

‘Of course you could’ Anne stops trying to snatch Anna’s phone and bobs up at her elbow. ‘We Howard girls are tough. Obviously. But you don’t need to. You’re allowed to take a day off.’

Perhaps it’s hearing Anna’s words repeated, perhaps it’s the little silly glow she gets at Anne's affirmation of their connection….but she finds herself nodding acquiesce. 

‘Alright…’

When she moves to gather her stuff and starts digging through her purse for bus fare, she’s surprised that the others follow her to the door.

‘Don’t you need to-?’

‘Oh we’ll come back, finish rehearsal of course.’ Catalina waves a hand dismissively. ‘We cleared it with Suzanne- we’ll be back within the hour.’

‘But why?’

‘We wanted to see you safely home first, love.’

‘All of you?’

Anna steps up behind Jane and nods. ‘All of us.’

*

‘It’s my turn to sit in the front-’

‘Well it’s my turn to drive and I refuse to drive with you in the front seat.’

‘Then let someone else drive, and we’ll get Kitty home before midnight-’

Catalina aims a playful swat at Anne’s arm, laughing, and Anne sticks out her tongue like a child. Usually the easy dynamic that seemed to spring up out of nowhere between the two makes Kitty feel wrongfooted, like she's intruding, like she's an imposter being the one related to Anne, when the others know her better...but then Catalina wraps an arm around her shoulders.

‘Kitty can sit in front. You don’t mind, right?’ She asks, quickly. ‘Only you’re the only one I trust not to make me listen to something awful.’

‘Fat chance.’ Anne shakes her head. ‘Kitty is a loyal cousin who would never take my rightful place, right?’

‘Kitty is a kind girl who won't leave me to be subjected to your dreadful taste in screechy, screamy music-’

They're both looking at her and it feels funny, to have them both vying for her favour like this, even if it is a joke, a game. Still it's one she included in- and it makes her feel brave enough to actually be part of it, over the impulse that makes her want to shrink away.

‘I’d… like to sit up front. Please.’ 

‘Yes! Good music for all!’

Catalina squeezes her gleefully and for a moment she’s afraid of Anne being upset with her- is she an idiot for siding against her own cousin?

‘Curse you, Kitty.’

But Anne’s beaming as she says it.

**

She’s buckling her seatbelt and Catalina is fussing with adjusting her seat and complaining that Jane always puts it too far forward, while Anne complains loudly from the back every time it rams into her knees and Jane argues that it’s hardly her fault if Catalina has Amazon-long legs now.

In the midst of it, Cathy leans forward and pokes her head between the two seats.

‘Kitty?’

‘Mmm?’

‘I just wanted to say….It does get easier you know- not believing him.’

‘Does it? Does it really?’ It's her secret fear, that it’ll never go away entirely, that she’ll be hearing his voice forever, but Cathy nods decisively.

‘Really it does. You’ll see.’

Cathy smiles at her warmly before she sinks back into her place and Kitty smiles back. It doesn't feel like they need to say anything else and it’s nice, it’s a good feeling.

She trusts her.

**

The car is quiet and the warm air blowing at her from the vents, the gentle movement, the chance to sit and not talk, means she's almost asleep by the time they pull up to the house.

When they get in, Anna guides her to the shower to stop her from walking into walls. Everything feels a bit fuzzy now, like her body is letting itself sink into her exhaustion.

‘Do you want pajamas or normal clothes?’

She hesitates- and Anna laughs. (She is the only person from the old life who never seemed to be annoyed by her indecision, and she will follow Anna to the ends of the earth in gratitude for it.)

‘I’ll surprise you.’

It's a relief, once the cold sweat of rehearsal has been washed away and she’s warmed up a bit. The clothes outside the bathroom door aren’t hers- she doesn’t recognise the material at first. When she unfolds them, she sees they’re Anna’s own old sweat pants and a faded tshirt.

The writing on the front reads Bitch Goddess. She buries her face for a moment in the worn-soft material before putting it on.

The others are in her room when she gets there. Cathy is putting a cup of tea down on her bedside table; Jane puts a hot water bottle on the bedspread.

‘You looked cold in the car.’

It feels odd, the attention all centered around her, but nice too. 

She's surrounded, shielded, protected.

‘Thanks’

‘No problem, Kitty-Kat.’

‘Will you be ok, Kitty?’ Anna is still eyeing her as if she might break down all over again and she shakes her head firmly.

‘I’ll be fine. Really.’

As much as she had been prepared to push on through rehearsals and performance, the hot shower and the warmth- of the hot water bottle, of Cathy and Anne perched on the bed either side of her- is making her as if she could sleep for a year, even though it’s only mid afternoon. 

The thought of being on her own doesn’t even feel as lonely as it might have done this morning- she can read a bit, she thinks, maybe try the Netflix series Anne keeps recommending. 

‘Don’t do any chores or anything that’s like work, ok?’

‘I won’t, I promise.’

 She has to swallow a yawn half way through her reply.

‘Get some rest, ok?’

She nods; Jane fusses with her pillows. 

It’s like being ill, it’s like being an invalid- but it’s also just nice, to feel so very cocooned in care. It soothes away the stress of the day, the anxiety and fear and the other emotions that have been unexpectedly unearthed: it helps push away the scared shakiness that's still threatening around the edges. 

Catalina tucks a blanket over her; it would make her feel like a child, except for the fact that it’s not something she can ever remember anyone doing for her, ever.

‘We’ll text before we go on.’

‘Ok.’

‘Thanks for….being so honest with us today Kitty-’ Cathy adds. ‘It was really brave.’ 

There are murmurs of agreement.

‘Thank you-’ She feels her face heating up as she says it. ‘Thank you for….listening. And for….everything.’

‘Thank you for letting us help.’

‘Remember, we’re all here if you need a reminder. If you need us to help drown him out a bit.’

‘Or just for anything-’ Jane adds quickly ‘Anything at all, sweetheart.’

‘Promise you’ll let us help you?’ Anne actually looks anxious as she says it, her hands clasped in front of her. ‘Promise you’ll keep on being open with us?’

‘I promise-’ she starts and then starts again. ‘I promise- as long as you promise the same?’ it sounds stupid as she says it and she half wants to take it back but it’s hard to do so gracefully when there are five people hanging on your every word. ‘Promise you’ll all...let me help you too?’

Theres a moment and she cringes- what a stupid stupid thing to say, as if she could help them. Then Catalina sighs.

‘God the fact that that bastard made you doubt for even a moment that you’re a good person makes me want to scream.’

‘What Catalina means is- yes.’ Cathy interpets.

‘We’ll all help each other. We’re a family- right?’

The other queens exchange anxious hopeful glances, and for the first time, the bonds that she’s imagined between the other queens as being strong and impenetrable and utterly beyond anything she could hope to attain seem...fragile. Newly forged, just as her own are. But so full of hope. so very full of hope.

‘Yes’

‘That's right’

She feels the tiniest glow that this is something she’s made happen- this moment, she can sense, is a shifting of states of being, a growing closeness. It's a change that happened because of her, and it’s this- even more so than the way she feels oddly lighter now, even more so that the feeling that she's shed something heavy and dragging that she’d been carrying around- it’s this that she’s grateful for.

They’re not a family, not yet- but they could be.

One day.