#but i know i have to push through til September until i handed in my seminar papers and stuff | Explore Tumblr Posts and Blogs

darkficsyouneveraskedfor · 4 years

Text

Sleepover

Warnings: noncon, fingering, oral, somniphilia, unprotected sex, pre-existing relationship

This is dark!Steve Rogers x reader (side of Sam Wilson x reader) in an established relationship and explicit. 18+ only.

Summary: The reader stops at a safe house but isn’t as safe as she thinks.

Note: Pretty much I wanted to make the trope “there was only one bed” dark, so I did. Reading the warnings. Last chance.

Also saw that @mcudarklibrary was having a somniphilia theme for August and September so thought this could be a contribution!

I hope y’all enjoy!

Let me know what you think! (Like, reblog, reply, leave some words, a gif, nonsensical emojis)

The safe house was small but it would do. It was just you for the night until you headed to the rendezvous and found your way back to New York. A week of reconnaissance and several days of retreat and you could have slept in the grass. Well, it wasn’t much better.

A double mattress on the floor between the narrow counter and table that folded into the wall. The bathroom was barely more than a closet. A tight shower and a floating sink beside the small toilet. You weren’t entirely sure why this was on the list of assigned safe points but it had been the closest.

You set your bag on the counter and unzipped it as you flipped on the light in the bathroom. Your phone buzzed in your pocket and you answered as you pulled out the cotton tank and sweats you’d wear after a hot shower. The clothes you had on were better off burned than washed.

“Baby, I’ve been tryna call all day.” Sam didn’t even give you a chance to say hello.

“You know I’m on a mission, right?” You asked as you went into the bathroom and dropped your clothes on the closed toilet seat. “I can’t be on my phone all day.”

“Thought you were headed to the safe house?”

“I’m there now but it took a while,” You reached for the shower faucet but paused as you heard a rumble in the distance.

“I miss you, baby,” Sam purred. “Maybe we could have a little fun on the phone tonight… Facetime?”

“What the--” You went to the window as the roaring of the motor grew louder. You pulled back the thick curtain and peered out. You sighed. “Sam.”

“What?” He asked innocently.

“How much fun are we gonna have with my chaperone here?” You sneered.

“What do you--”

“Steve.” You said plainly as you watched Steve killed the engine and wheel his bike around the back of the house. “I can’t believe you.”

“I swear it wasn’t me, baby.”

“Mhmm, and you also didn’t tell him to tail me in Rome.” You huffed.

“That was different.” Sam argued. “I promise, it’s nothing to do with me.”

“You have fun alone.” You said. “Distance makes the heart grow… fonder, is it?”

“Baby--”

“Love you.” You sang and hung up before he could respond.

You really did love Sam but he could be overbearing. At first, being fellow agents had been fun and dangerous. But as things grew more serious, he acted more and more like a babysitter. You both took the same risks, you didn’t understand why he was anymore worried about you than himself.

You placed your phone on your duffel as you carefully stepped around the mattress that took up much of the space. You opened the door a crack as footfalls crept around the side. You pushed it open entirely as Steve came into site.

“Steve,” You greeted as you crossed your arms.

“Oh,” He looked genuinely surprised. “I didn’t see your… car?”

“In the trees,” You nodded to the nearby forest. “Precautionary.”

“I… shit, I didn’t know you were here. I was just in the area on intelligence and needed somewhere to crash.”

“Mhmm,” You held open the door for him as he approached. “You sure someone didn’t tip you off?”

He blinked at you and turned back as he entered. You followed and locked the door.

“You mean Sam? Come on, after Rome, he can deal with his own paranoia.”

You squinted at him and sighed.

“Well, if you can’t tell, there isn’t much room.” You waved to the small space. “More a shed than a house.”

“Geez, yeah,” He looked around. “Well, I can--”

“It’s fine. These things happen. I’m sure you’ve slept on worse.” You shrugged. “Almost thought I’d be in my car for the night.”

“As long as it’s not too much of a bother.” He rubbed his neck. “I didn’t mean to barge in.”

“It’s one night. Won’t hurt anyone.” You said. “I’m just gonna get cleaned up and lay down. I’ll try to stay out of your way as much as I can.”

“Alright,” He put his bag down next to yours. “I’ll try to do the same.” He unzipped his bag. “Save some hot water for me.”

You gave a thin laugh and went back into the bathroom. You closed the door but it didn’t click. You tried several times and found the latch broken. You huffed and cranked the faucet. The shower whined and the water pattered down against the old porcelain.

You undressed, careful to keep an eye on the small space between the door and the frame as you did. You stepped behind the curtain and the rings rang against the rod as you pulled it into place.

You sighed as you melted beneath the hot water. You let the steam swallow you up and scrubbed your skin clean. You stepped out and took one of the half-dozen towels hidden away in the cupboard.

You let out a ‘whew’ as you dried off and dressed quickly. You walked out with the towel and draped it from a knob on the counter.

Steve turned away from the window. It was dark outside already. He smiled awkwardly.

“You done in there?” He asked.

“Mhmm,” You nodded and grabbed your phone as you let him past. The place was even smaller with him there.

You dropped down onto the bed and your screen it up with a notification. It was Sam. ‘Babe? Hello?’ You unlocked the phone and found several other messages.

‘Was in the shower. Looks like a long night with the old captain.’ You replied.

‘Hey, nothing to do with me. Promise. I’d check in myself ;)’

‘Sure, sure.’

‘Come on, baby, don’t be like that.’

‘Even if it wasn’t, night’s kinda ruined.’

‘Just don’t let him see ;P’

You shook your head and lowered the phone. The shower groaned in the next room and your stomach fluttered. It would be difficult but you did miss Sam terribly; in many ways.

‘I can’t.’ You typed as you listened to the stream of water. The door hadn’t caught for Steve either and upon a glance you saw his blurry silhouette behind the curtain. Sam was quick to respond.

‘You’ve done worse, baby. You remember Rio ;P’

‘I regret Rio’. You giggled under your breath, the memory of the humid hideaway and your little escape with Sam as Bucky kept watch. You were still certain he’d spotted you on his surveillance.

‘He’s an old man. He’ll probably sleep early.’

‘You realise this house is tiny. I’m surprised he fit through the door.’

‘But I miss you :)’

‘Don’t do that.’

‘I know you miss me more. Can’t wait for this sugar.’

You barely stifled your laughter as the shower stopped and you texted Sam a heart eye emoji before flipping to another app. You knew Sam wasn’t going to let up but it would be awkward enough spending the night here in such close confines with Steve. You and him were rarely alone; you usually had the buffer of Bucky or Sam. You’d always found the First Avenger a little stringent; tight-lipped and a bit of a hard ass.

Your eyes flicked up as the door opened all the way and Steve stepped through. You cleared your throat and glanced back at your phone. He only had the towel around his waist. You crossed your legs and scrolled through your timeline.

“Forgot my clothes out here,” He said. “It’s been such a long day, it’s all slipping my mind.”

“No worries,” You kept your eyes on your phone as he gathered up a bundle from his bag and fled back to the bathroom.

You blinked and finally lifted your head. Your phone buzzed and you looked down. ‘You got me all worked up.’ Sam included an eggplant at the end and you quickly swept away the bubble. Steve emerged in a pair of track pants and an A shirt that did little to conceal his muscular torso as the fabric was stretched taut.

He shoved his dirty gear in his bag and fished around for his own phone. He neared the other side of the mattress and gave a doubtful look at the space beside you.

“Um, sorry if it’s a bit cramped.” He lowered himself carefully. “You know, about seventy-odd years ago, you wouldn’t even have noticed me.”

You chuckled and shimmied over to give him more space as he leaned against the wall next to you.

“It’s fine. Sam’s a bed hog. I’m used to it.” You assured him.

“Oh, yeah, I learned that once.” Steve scoffed. “This place in Germany. A lot like this one. He’s not very accommodating.”

“No, not when it comes to sleep,” You muttered.

“Chatterbox,” Steve remarked as he unlocked his phone. “As is Bucky today… uncharacteristically.”

Your own phone buzzed as Steve opened up his messages. You lifted your own screen and cautiously swiped up. ‘How long til he’s asleep? I’m so hard it hurts.’ Sam’s message had you framing the phone with your hand in shame.

‘Don’t get me worked up,’ You warned as you shifted beside Steve.

‘I was just looking at those photos you sent on Valentines. I can’t help myself.’

‘Stop :/’

‘You know I can’t. That little outfit was too much. Tell me you still have it.’

‘He’s going to see. Stop.’

You coughed and flipped your phone as you sensed movement along your peripheral. You peeked over at Steve but he just stared at his phone as he typed with his thumbs slowly. Maybe you were overly paranoid. You looked at your screen again.

‘You look just as good without it.’ Sam’s text made your stomach knot.

‘You never seemed too picky :P’

‘I bet you look just as good now. What are you wearing, baby?’

You wanted to laugh at him. You weren’t exactly dressed to the nines. ‘Sweats and a tank. Very sexy.’

‘Oo u know I love ur ass in sweats’.

‘Haha, sure’.

You heard a growl from beside you and quickly lowered your phone. You looked at Steve as he shook his head at his own cell.

“Sorry, Bucky’s just… being Bucky.” He blackened his phone and sat up. He tucked it under his pillow and yawned. “I think I’m just going to sleep. I’ve been on the road all day.”

“Sure,” You said. “I’ll get the light.”

“You don’t have to sleep yet.” He slid down onto his back. “I don’t mind.”

“Nah, I’m pretty tired myself.” You said.

You left your phone on the mattress as you stood and pulled the string of the hanging bulb. The space went black and you carefully toed your way back to the bed. As you got onto the mattress you nearly landed on Steve and apologized as you righted yourself. You fished out your phone as you laid atop the covers.

“Night,” You said as you held your phone to your stomach.

“Night,” He echoed.

You rolled onto your side, your back to him, and dimmed your screen. You unlocked your phone again. ‘When you get home, I’m taking you to dinner and you’re not wearing panties.’

‘Ur so bad.’

‘Not as bad as you, baby’.

'You really gotta stop. I need sleep.'

'I'll leave you alone if you send me something to tide me over ;)'

'Steve is right here'.

'When he's asleep. Trust me, he's out like a light after dark.'

'I'll try… no promises.'

You hid your phone and listened. Steve barely moved and you could only hear his breath as it slowed to a steady lull.

You rolled onto your back an glanced over at him. His eyes were closed and no tension marred his face. You bit the tip of your tongue and sat up.

You kept watch over him as you opened your camera. You turned on your flash and flipped it around. You had one shot in the dark. You pulled down your tank top, goosebumps as the fear of getting caught tickled your skin. You lined up your finger and clicked as you gave as coy a look as you could manage.

Flash, snap, you quickly laid back down and pulled up your shirt. You were on your side as you checked the pic. Not bad… you sent it and held in a giggle. Your phone buzzed not long after.

'Oh baby that will def get me thru the nite'. You sent a heart and a kissy emoji in reply and told him you had to go to sleep.

He returned the sentiment and you set your phone on the floor, content to wait until your homecoming for a release of the heat pooling in your core.

You closed your eyes and yawned. You really were tired.

💤

Steve sighed. She was asleep. He could tell as her heart slowed and her breaths evened out. He had fought to keep still until she did; as she had continued her texting, and even as she had chanced to take that naughty photo. And right beside him!

It was hard to keep his cool as he laid next to her. As she got out of the shower, he’d chanced to look up and see her through the crack of the door before she wrapped herself in a towel. And then he had barely been able to keep his eyes on her face as her nipples stuck out beneath the cotton of her tank.

And next to her. Her warmth seeping into him. He could sense her nerves as Sam goaded her through her phone. As she did a poor job at hiding her screen and he pretended to be distracted by her own. She had completely missed that he’d open the tracking app with the little dot that blipped right over them. The very one that told her where she was at all times.

It’s how he found her all alone in the safe house. Convenient that it was so small but he had a plan either way. He’d been fantasizing about this very moment for months. Close to a year. Every time he saw her it got harder to act normal. Often he just shut down and went quiet. And seeing her with Sam…

His hand was on the waist of his track pants, fingertips picking at the elastic. He’d been hard all night, at this point, throbbing. He flinched as his hand brushed his erection through his pants. He let out a strained breath through his teeth and shivered.

He peeked over at her. In her sleep, she’d turned on her side to face him. She looked peaceful and yet a shadow of that naughty grin she’d given to her phone remained. Steve began to rub himself through the thin crotch of his track pants. He groaned. Looking at her, it felt even better. Her airy snores, just a hiss between her pouted lips, kept time as he stoked himself.

His other hand grasped hers. What was he doing? He dragged her hand from where it laid bent before her chest and he pushed it down until it was next to his. He slid it beneath and held it to his hard dick as it twitched. He swallowed a grunt as he used her palm to pleasure himself.

She murmured and he let go of her. Her hand fell between them but she didn’t wake. She fell onto her back and brought her arm up over her head, her elbow barely missing his temple. She grumbled and her breaths petered out once more. He watched her for a moment and admired the way her tank top had been pulled askew and her sweats had rolled lower on her hips.

He couldn’t help but trace the elastic with his fingers, grazing the skin bared just above. She didn’t react, didn’t move, didn’t make a noise. He pushed beneath her pants, just a little. He felt the smooth skin of her pelvis as he watched her face. Her eyes didn’t flutter open and she didn’t stir to stop him. He tickled the trimmed hair further down and he let out a long shaky breath.

He traced the line of her cunt and carefully dipped his finger between her folds. She was wet despite her unconsciousness. His fingertip slid over her clit and she let out a moan that ended in a nasally snore. He watched her cheek twitch but she still didn’t wake. He pressed another finger down and flicked down and back up. He dragged his fingers along until she began to slicken.

He withdrew his hand and kept his eyes on her. She pushed her arm down over her face and arched her back as she stretched, a sleep grumble as she wiggled beside him. He brushed his fingers along his lips and tasted her. He looked her over and felt the deep pain of his arousal. It was more than that, it was an insatiable and overwhelming need.

He sat up, careful no to jostle her. His hand crawled down her thigh and he sidled over as he inched her legs apart. He lifted himself onto his knees and turned to climb between hers. He stopped as he knelt above her and she still was completely unaware.

He waited a moment before he grasped the waist of her sweats. His hands slipped around and he eased them past her ass as he lifted her. She was putty in his hands. Dead weight as her chest rose and fell without disturbance.

He rolled her pants down a little more. And more. And more. He stared at the soft outlines of her nudity as he bared her and drew her pants down her legs. He backed off the mattress and untangled her feet. He got back between her knees and ran his palms along her naked legs. Goosebumps rose at his touch and she moaned but her arm remained over her eyes and she only muttered between snores.

He paused and leaned over his side of the mattress. He grabbed his phone from under his pillow and quickly swiped it open. He clicked on the camera and turned the flash on. He grasped the top of the tank top and pulled until the straps slid down her arms and her chest came free. He snapped a picture, then another with his hand on her tit. Then he bent to take her nipple in his mouth and suckled until his cock was sore.

He pulled back and looked over her as he set his phone aside. His little doll.

Steve slid his hands down onto the mattress and bent over her. His nose grazed her tuft of hair and he inhaled her scent. He hummed in delight. He nuzzled her closer and poked his tongue out along her folds. He delved deeper and teased her clit and a sharp breath had him frozen. He glanced up but she was still asleep.

He flicked his tongue and she squeaked again. He loved that sound. He remembered that sound, dreamt of it since he’d first heard. Her and Sam never seemed to have much shame or perhaps it was a lack of awareness. That day in the training room when they thought they were alone; when they didn’t know he was just outside the door, kept from his own workout as they wrestled on the mats.

He brought his hand up to feel along her entrance. He poked a finger inside her and felt how tight she was. He added another finger and imagined her around his cock as he had a hundred times before. He lapped at her hungrily and curled his fingers inside her. Her walls constricted as her orgasm built and he guided her through it. He felt it and heard the stifled pattern of her breath as she crested the peak.

He slowed and peeked up at her. He withdrew his hand and reluctantly parted as he sat up. Her arm had slipped from her face and bent around her pillow. He could hear her heartbeat as it raced and yet she was asleep still. How could she not have woken?

Steve gripped the top of his pants. He looked down at his hands as if they weren't his own. He rose and stepped out of his track pants and swiped his shirt over his head. His hands glossed over his hot torso and his chest threatened to burst as every sense was magnified. He needed her. He could have her. Like this.

He bent and took his phone again. He switched to record and the flash bloomed to life. He angled the lens over every inch of her as he watched the screen. He backed up and went to the counter. He propped his phone up against the side of the bag, adjusting it until it focused on the mattress. He wanted to remember it even if she didn’t.

His fingers wrapped around his cock and he stroked himself and neared the bed. He groaned and lowered himself before her. He bent her legs around him as he bent over her. He slid his arm beneath her head and it lolled into the crook of his elbow. He pressed his tip to her folds and slickened himself with her arousal.

He prodded at her entrance and held his breath. He watched her face in the dark as he pushed into her. She stretched around his tip and her breath rushed along his thick bicep. He went deeper, unable to stop as her warmth beckoned to him. He was halfway in and felt as if he couldn’t go any further. She was so tight and yet he had too. He wanted all of her.

He held his breath and thrust to his limit. She gasped and her head turned suddenly as her eyes snapped open. The shock in her face was startling and somehow intoxicating. She blinked as she mumbled in confusion and she brought her hands up against his chest as she tried to shove him off. He jerked his hips and she cried out.

“S-Steve…” She gulped as she felt his thick muscles helplessly. “What are you--”

He pulled back and thrust into her again. Her legs tensed against him and her body arched beneath him. He hushed her and smothered her lips with his. She tried to pull away but she was trapped under his weight; in his strength. He liked the way she writhed, the way her tongue tried to force his out, the way her nails dug into the skin of his chest, the frantic noises that he swallowed up.

💤

You were so full it hurt. Your heart beat faster than ever as your eyes searched the dark. All you could see was the shadow of the man atop you, feel his sheer strength as he cradled your head with his thick arm and moved his body atop yours. You clawed at his chest as you squeezed him with your thighs, trying to get him off of you but only seeming to draw him deeper.

You pushed your head to the side as you finally tore your lips from his and gulped at the air. His motion built steadily as his groans seeped into you and made your stomach turn.

At first, you hadn’t known where you were. It took a moment to recall the safe house and the mission that had led you there. Another to remember Steve’s unexpected arrival and your hasty texts before you resigned to sleep. And another to realise what he was doing to you. To realise that while you were terrified, it felt good. To battle with yourself and your weak body.

“Steve…” You rasped as his wet lips crushed against your cheek and his hips moved steadily against you. “Stop. What are you-- Sam…” You could barely form a thought, let alone speak. “Please--”

“I couldn’t wait any longer.” He growled as he sped up. “You’re so good. So tight.”

“Steve--”

“Mmm, say it again.” His other hand gripped your hip as he tilted into you. “I love my name in your mouth.”

“No, no, no,” You murmured. “Why--”

He impaled you sharply and your voice fizzled in your throat. He rested his weight on you as he sank into you completely and held himself there. Carefully he rolled onto his side and took you with him. He hooked your leg around his side as your other was trapped under him. His arms wrapped around you as he rocked into you.

He grabbed your leg and bent it even higher, straining your muscles as he crashed into you harder and deeper. You beat on his shoulder and threw your head back as you tried to resist the swelling in your core.

“It’s okay,” He purred. “You can cum for me.”

“St-e-ve,” You stuttered and grasped his shoulder. “Why--”

“Can I cum in you?” He asked as he grabbed your head and made you look at him. A light shone from behind him. You hadn’t noticed that before. “I gotta-- I’m gonna fill you up.”

“No, no…” You pushed helplessly. He wasn’t wearing a condom, you could tell. The thought made you sick. “You can’t--”

“I can’t--” He rolled you onto your back once more.

He pinned your hips down with his large hands as he raised himself on his needs and rutted into you without restraint. You felt as if your pelvis would snap as his grunts filled the small house. You clung to the pillows around your head and your body constricted in an unexpected and unwanted climax.

“That-- It--” He snarled as his motion turned relentless. “I’m-- gonna-- ugh…”

His voice trailed off and his hips snapped harshly against you as he came. You felt his heat as it coated your walls and he eased himself still as he lowered his body back down to yours. He pecked your lips and you turned your head away.

“Why…” Your voice crackled.

He hummed and nuzzled your cheek. “That was good, wasn’t it?”

“Get off of me,” You sneered. “Steve,” You slapped him and he recoiled. “Off!”

He grunted and pulled out of you as he pushed himself onto his knees. His cum leaked from your cunt as you sat up and he got to his feet. Your entire body tingled and you were shaking. You stood, your legs wobbly, and Steve’s shadow blotted out the bright light the beamed across the space.

“What is that?” You asked as you reached between your legs to wipe the cum smeared on your thighs.

“A keepsake.” The flash on his phone suddenly went out as he tapped the screen. “To look back on.”

“What the fuck is wrong with you?” You stomped towards him and reached for his phone. “How could you--”

“Don’t worry,” He held the phone above him. “Sam will never know… unless I want him too.”

“No…” You stared up at his face shrouded in darkness. “How…”

You blinked as tears rose and a hollow chill swept through you. You spun away from him and stumbled to the bathroom. You slammed the door as a sob caught in your throat. The damn thing would stay shut. You punched it as you swallowed back your tears.

You flipped on the light and pushed yourself away from the door and it creaked. You turned the sink on, the cold water numbing as you tried to wash away his cum from your cunt. When you finished, you let the tap run and looked into the mirror. You didn’t look like yourself. You didn’t feel like yourself.

And Steve, he couldn’t have been himself.

#steve rogers #dark steve rogers #dark!steve rogers #steve rogers x reader smut #dark steve rogers x reader #dark!steve rogers x reader #fic #dark!fic #dark fic #somniphilia #one shot #sam wilson #sam wilson x reader #mcu #marvel #captain america

2K notes · View notes

troubatrain · 3 years

Text

afterglow - k. hayes

a/n: a repost from my old blog!

You were having the day from hell. You were late for a work meeting, which only ended in being berated by your boss for the third time this week. You were positive she was just trying to push you to quit, which is just wonderful. You’d barely been working there a year, and the thing that you sacrificed for that job was one of the hardest decisions you’d ever made. Then, in true New York City fashion, you were six blocks from a subway station and it started to downpour on your walk home. You finally walk into your apartment, kicking off your now soaked beyond belief heels, walking into your kitchen immediately and grabbing a bottle of wine out of your fridge. You sigh, pouring it and taking it into your bedroom.

The worst part of your day was still looming. You pull out a box, filled to the brim with the memories of your past relationship. You called Kevin a week ago, after running into Mika at the Starbucks a few blocks away from MSG. You remembered you had a box with his, and you offered it to him when he came to play the Rangers. You didn’t think you would even get an answer, and you knew Kevin left things everywhere and he’d just replace them like it never happened. You couldn’t even remember how many ties of his would go missing by the time he would come back from a road trip. But, Kevin answered that he would swing by and grab them after his flight landed. You hadn’t seen Kevin since the night you kicked him out of your apartment, far too livid at him to form words.

February 25, 2018

You were on edge all day. Kevin had mentioned to you when you started dating that he might not be in New York all season. You both decided to ignore that, pretending like it wasn’t happening until it was. You had only been seeing each other for a few months, but with Kevin, you knew it would be him forever.

You stared at the TV in shock, mouth hanging open at the news.

Kevin Hayes traded to the Winnipeg Jets

You didn’t care what the Rangers had gotten in return, you didn’t care about how far away Winnipeg was, you cared that your entire world was just torn apart. You hadn’t been dating long at the time, a mere six months, which put you in a bizarre position about what the future would hold for the two of you. You sat in your apartment in the West Village, waiting for Kevin to make the short trip from Chelsea.

“Babe?” You hear him unlock the door with the key you’d given him a month ago.

“You’re leaving,” You whisper lowly, not wanting to admit to yourself.

“Y/N, it’s going to be okay, we’ll work it out. You can come with me, in the off-season I’ll sign a new deal and we’ll start making a new home for ourselves,” Kevin says softly, baby blue eyes looking into yours as he kneels in front of you on the couch to get eye-level with you.

“Kev I can’t just pick up and leave, I have work and a life here,” You tried to explain, you’d moved to New York when you were 18 and headed to NYU, bright eyed and full of hope, and stayed after graduation, building a career for yourself in the city. You loved New York, the culture, the atmosphere, and on most nights the people. You’d just taken your dream job, and you weren’t in any position to give it up.

“I can take care of you, come September we’ll be able to settle down somewhere else,” Kevin whispers, resting his large hand on your thigh.

“I don’t want that Kev!” You shout, not realizing your voice had risen, “I did all of this on my own, I’m not going to let you just take care of me, you know that.”

“Y/N what am I supposed to do? This my job, I don’t have a choice, I told you this might happen,” Kevin shouts back.

He was right, he told you after your first date that he wasn’t sure if he would even be a Ranger for the rest of the season. His contract was going to expire and the team was in a rebuild, he knew if he had a good season he would be gone by the deadline.

“Kevin, I’m not that girl,” You start, you were upset and you were lashing out at Kevin for even asking you to leave New York, “I’m not going to follow you around and give my dreams for your job.”

“I’ve never asked you to be,” Kevin shouts back, “Can you be the kind of girl who’s there for me?”

“I’m sure you can find her in Winnipeg,” You deadpan, crossing your arms at him. It was the first time you’d ever fought, and most definitely the first time Kevin’s ever raised his voice at you. His face was red, veins popping out of his neck. He was mad, and you were mad that he couldn’t understand where you were coming from. Kevin was more traditional than you, and while it made him a gentleman, it made it hard for him to get that you liked to work.

“You want me to go off to Winnipeg and find another girl?” Kevin asks, his tone harsh, “It would make road trips fun again.”

His last words were muttered under his breath, but that didn’t mean you didn’t hear them. The second the words slipped out of his mouth, you both went silent. His sentence rocked your world. You never thought Kevin would cheat on you, he’d always made it clear to you that he was yours and you were his. But, the way the words fell out so easily made your skin crawl. You wanted to scream, cry, and fight with him for the next day - but you weren’t being given that time.

“Kevin, just go, I’m sure you need to pack,” You say, tears threatening to spill.

He stands in the doorway, debating whether or not to leave, he looks at you defeated and walks out of your apartment. You sat on the floor of your apartment that night, tears flooding out of your eyes while you wore Kevin’s too big Red Sox hoodie that you loved so much.

You wipe a little dust off the box, it's been almost a year since that night. You’d seen Kevin, on the internet at least, not being able to stop yourself from Instagram stalking your ex-boyfriend. You unfollowed all of his friends, and most of his family - only following his sister just because you liked to see pictures of his niece. Which was fine, until she posted a video of Kevin trying to braid her hair when they headed to Winnipeg to visit, and you cried in the bathroom at work. You opened it, trying to even remember what was inside.

You pulled out a few of his hoodies, because his clothes were always thrown around your apartment. You laugh, pulling out the Patriots hoodie you’d borrowed after the first night you crashed in his apartment. You wore it on the walk back, ignoring hollers about the sports team on your chest while you weaved through the streets of Manhattan while you took a walk of shame back to your place. You hold the gray fabric in your hands, remembering the way it felt - soft like Kevin always was with you. You pull out a couple of his beanies, remember how many he would leave at your house and then just buy another because he forgot about it. You pulled out a few ticket stubs, random concerts you’d both been to that you tossed in there when you broke up. Then you hit the two small velvet boxes that you never stopped thinking about.

You pulled out the first box, opening it to reveal the necklace Kevin had gotten you for Christmas. It was so perfect, you were positive Brady’s girlfriend had to have helped him pick it out. You only tried to wear it once after you broke up, but the memories that flooded back when you put it on was too much. Then there was the other box. Kevin had gotten you the most beautiful ring you’d ever seen in your life for your birthday. He claimed it didn’t mean anything, but when his eyes sparkled when you slipped it on your left hand, to try it on in the restaurant you were in, you thought it may mean more than he was leading on. It was your favorite piece of jewelry, the ring was dainty and small just the way you liked it. You were surprised Kevin even picked it out, considering he lived by the motto that the bigger the better, but he told you he knew you needed it when he saw it in a shop window on a roadtrip in Chicago. You drop the box, hoping maybe he would give it to someone else one day, if there wasn't someone else already.

You hear your someone try to buzz into your building and you knew it had to be Kevin. You carry the box with you in the living room, buzzing him in and dropping it on the island in your kitchen. You sigh, hearing his heavy footsteps come down the door, opening it and letting himself in.

“Hey,” You say, your voice small.

“Hey,” Kevin breathes out, you were both nervous which you guess could be a good thing. He looked different, his hair was a little longer and his beard a little fuller.

Suddenly, as if the universe decided to lay it all on you today, the power in your apartment shuts out, a loud crash of thunder following. You jump, feeling Kevin’s large hands on your shoulders when you do.

“Fuck, give me a minute,” You mutter, running into your room to grab some candles. You spread them around your apartment, lighting them until your apartment wasn’t completely dark.

“All of downtown is in a blackout,” Kevin says, reading the news on his phone, “Like all of it.”

You bite your lip, debating your options. You shouldn’t let Kevin go back out in this weather, and with no power on one half of Manhattan, it wasn’t a great idea.

“You should stay, til this all blows over,” You offer, gesturing to your island where the box sat.

“That’s my stuff?” Kevin asks, opening the box and smiling at the contents. You watch them sift through the box, a wide smile on his face that could barely make out in the glow of the candles that littered your apartment. His hands gripped the same velvet box you dropped in just before he arrived.

“You should keep these,” Kevin says, “They were gifts.”

“Give them to someone else one day,” You whisper, sitting on your counter while you watched him, “That’s what you wanted right?”

You didn’t realize the words came out of your mouth. You’d been harboring this feeling of resentment for so long, your entire world was crushed in a matter of a night and you just wanted some closure. You thought you could get it by just giving him his stuff back, but it still wasn’t enough.

“I didn’t want that,” Kevin says back, “You said it first!”

“You asked me to be someone I wasn’t Kevin,” You say, your voice rising, “That wasn’t fair to me!”

“It wasn’t fair to me that I had to leave, but I did,” Kevin shouts, “And all I wanted was for you to come with me, because I love you.”

“Do you think that it was fucking easy to let you go? Or that I didn’t spend months of my life regretting it? Because I did,” You yell, tears welling up in your eyes, “Congrats Kevin you win, I was fucking miserable without you and the reason I stayed in New York isn’t working out.”

You stomp into your room, slamming the door and sliding down it. You finally just let yourself cry. About that fucking night. About losing the love of your life for some job that isn’t working out. About ruining your own happiness because you could just compromise once. Kevin knocked lightly on the other side, finally giving up after what was probably his hundredth time, sliding down the other side of your bedroom door.

“It was really lonely up there” Kevin whispers, loud enough for you to hear through the door, “In Winnipeg.”

Kevin talked for an hour. He talked about Winnipeg, how no matter what he did he couldn’t stop thinking about you. How he wishes you could have been there. He talked about his summer in Boston, mentioning how his sister got married and he wished you were there. He talked about how his mom asked about you all summer, but he just kept brushing it off because he couldn’t tell her it was his fault. Which leads up to now, where he is finally getting to the new city he set roots in.

“-I like Philly,” Kevin whispers, “You would too, everyone there is great. You’d love my teammates, and they’d love you.”

“Kev?” You finally say, your voice still trembling, “What happened to us?”

“I don’t know,” Kevin says back, his head tapping the door, “I didn’t mean what I said, I don’t know why I said it, but I didn’t mean it.”

“We were both upset, about everything,” You say back, standing up and opening the door, “I’m sorry for telling you to go find someone else.”

Kevin stands up, his hands finding both sides of your face to wipe away the stray tears that were left, “I’m never going to find someone else.”

“Kevin, I can’t pick up and run off with you,” You say, repeating the same thing you did a few months ago, “Just not right now.”

“Philly is barely three hours away,” Kevin counters, “I’m willing to do it if you are, because I can’t walk out of here without trying.”

You finally place your lips on his, soft and slow at first. But when your hands found the back of Kevin’s neck, playing with the hair that was starting to curl, you could feel him grunt into your mouth and you smiled against his lips because you knew it drove him crazy. That was the point, you knew everything about him because he was yours, and you were his.

#kevin hayes #kevin hayes imagine #my writing #nhl imagine #nhl imagines

163 notes · View notes

misqato · 4 years

Text

𝙝𝙖𝙥𝙥𝙮 𝙗𝙞𝙧𝙩𝙝𝙙𝙖𝙮, 𝙠𝙚𝙞 || 𝙩𝙨𝙪𝙠𝙞𝙨𝙝𝙞𝙢𝙖 𝙠𝙚𝙞 𝙭 𝙧𝙚𝙖𝙙𝙚𝙧

Summary: You and Tsukki are in a long distance relationship and today is Tsukki’s birthday. Days ago, both of you had planned to spend the day through a video call, but Tsukki gets upset and disappointed when you haven’t sent him a single message throughout the day. Will things get better sooner or later?

Genre: slight angst(?), fluff

Tags: slight angst, fluff, long-distance relationships, sad/lonely tsukki :(, college!tsukki and reader, angst at the start but the ending is okay, i don’t know what to put anymore so yeah that’s it :D

Word Count: 1.7K words

A/N: Hi! I’m sorry if it’s been a while since I’ve released a fic. School is really stressing me out and I can’t find the time to write anymore. I hope you guys enjoy this fic I wrote for Tsukki’s birthday. It’s kind of bad since it’s rushed but I tried my best. Also, I’m currently working on something big so stay tuned! And of course, I have to greet an advanced (i’m posting this the day before his birthday hehe) happy birthday to my love, Tsukishima Kei <3. Again, I hope you guys enjoy this fic! ‘Til next time, Claire <33

Beep, beep, beep, beep

The blaring of the alarm woke Tsukishima to a jolt. He turned off the alarm and rubbed his eyes. The sun was already shining through the blinds of his bedroom. He checked the time and date on his phone.

September 27, 9:00am. It was his birthday today.

He sighed, staring at his lockscreen wallpaper. It was a picture of him and you standing outside the Sendai City Gymnasium after one of his games. His arm was wrapped around your waist as you hugged him tightly against you while wearing a big smile.

He sighed, missing the feeling of your warm embrace. He really wanted to spend the day with you today, but as much as he wished for you to come over and be with him, you couldn’t.

A few months ago, you needed to travel long distance for your studies since you got a scholarship at your dream university. Kei was very happy for you, he really was, but at the same time, he didn’t want you to leave.

You both knew that this long distance relationship was going to be hard for the both of you. You thought of staying, of course, because you didn’t want to leave Kei behind as well, but he insisted that you follow your dreams and take this once in a lifetime opportunity. He cared about your career of course, and he didn’t want to get in the way of that. So you guys settled that you push through with the scholarship, and as for your relationship, you guys planned to call at least once a day, just to check on each other. Surprisingly, things are going well for the both of you. Even though your schedule was quite hectic, you still managed to find time to call or text.

He really missed you. He didn’t want to spend his birthday (and any other birthdays) without you, but he just had to deal with it.

You both had agreed that the plan for today was for the two of you to have a video call for the whole day since you wouldn’t be able to come over. He checked to see if you’ve sent him any messages today, but there was none. Oh well, she must be busy, he thought, setting his phone down to brush his teeth and prepare breakfast.

The birthday calls and greetings came in at around 9:40. While waiting for your text, he ate breakfast while answering all the birthday greetings that came in. An hour has passed, and yet no text.

A while later, his family called to greet him a happy birthday because they couldn’t come over since they were out visiting his grandparents’ place which was out of town. After which he checked to see if you’ve finally sent him a message.

Still no message.

Kei wondered why you haven’t messaged him yet. Both of you would usually have a short chat at this time before his training. He considered messaging first, but he decided to wait a little longer, but the longer he waited, the more impatient he gets.

It was starting to get lonely for Kei. He turned down all the offers of his friends who wanted to celebrate with him because he only wanted to spend the day with you, even if only in a video call.

It was already 5:30pm, and still no message.

Kei spent majority of his day sitting around and watching his favorite movies just so he could entertain himself somehow. He kept checking his phone to see if you’ve texted him, and every time he sees that you haven’t, his heart sinks a little. What if she forgot it was my birthday?, he thought. It was a possibility, but with all the birthday posts from his friends, you’d at least be able to see them somehow and remember it was his birthday, right? He felt disappointed and upset. The only reason why he liked birthdays was because he got to spend them with you, and right now, he hates that you couldn’t be around to spend it with him.

When the sun started to set a little, he decided to buy himself dinner. The walk to the restaurant was quite cold. He noticed that a lot of people seem to have birthdays during September. A lot of people were out celebrating with their families and loved ones, and seeing them, Kei honestly felt so lonely.

He really missed you. All he wanted to do was to see your face and hear your voice. He just wanted to talk to you for hours and hours because he missed being close to you but you couldn’t be there since you’re so far away.

As he took the takeout bag from the counter, he walked out of the store to head home and eat his dinner there. He didn’t want to eat at the restaurant because of the many loud people celebrating their birthdays there as well, and he didn’t want to feel any more lonely than he already is. And besides, you might call all of a sudden, and it’d be a really bad timing ‘cause the place was very loud and you’d hardly get to hear each other.

When he reached his doorstep, he noticed the door was unlocked as he was about to insert the key into the keyhole. Was there an intruder?, he thought. He grabbed his phone to be ready to call the cops and started to slowly walk inside. As he stepped in, he noticed a familiar pair of shoes set down in the shoe rack. Y/N? could she be here?, he asked himself with confusion. You couldn’t possibly be here right now, you were so far away and it took hours to get back to this town. Besides, you had school the following day.

Just as he was about to call out your name, there you were, walking out of the kitchen and now standing right in front of him. “Kei!”, you beamed at him, running towards him to pull him into your embrace. He couldn’t believe his eyes. You were here, right in front of him when he’d least expected you to.

“Y/N? Is that really you?”

“Of course, you dummy! I wouldn’t be missing your birthday now, wouldn’t I?”, you said as your ruffled his hair. “Oh, yes I almost forgot! The gifts are in the kitchen. Let me get them.”, you said, letting go of the hug and running back to the kitchen. He quickly removed his coat and followed suit. He’d never felt so happy and overwhelmed until now.

He set his takeout by the counter and had seen that you’ve brought two large brown paper bags with you today. “Alrighty, so here’s the cake. I stopped over by the cake shop to see if there were any left. Luckily, this was the last piece.” you took out a large strawberry shortcake out of one of the paper bags. It was his favorite cake, and he couldn’t help but smile at the thought that you remembered.

Next, you brought out a dinosaur gift wrapped box out of the other paper bag and handed it to him. “Open it!”, you excitedly said.

His heart fluttered at how cute you looked. He took the gift from your hands and carefully unwrapped them, and when he saw what it was, his jaw nearly dropped. It was the set of new headphones he’d been wanting to get for months. They were very pricey and he’s surprised that you’ve bought them for him.

“Y/N you didn’t really have to buy this. This is very expensive and I wouldn’t want you to waste your money for me-”

“Tsukki, it’s alright. I wanted to get this for you because I know you really wanted them. It’s not a waste of money for me because I know you’ll love it. I haven’t made enough efforts in our relationship and this is my way of making it up to you. And of course, I wanted to make you happy ‘cause it’s your birthday!”, you cut him off. “Well, unless you didn’t like the gift-”

“No! I really love it Y/N. Thank you. You work so hard in your studies and you even manage to find so much time for us. Don’t think that you’re not making enough efforts for us because for all I know, you’re the one who contributes the most to keeping this relationship alive and I know I should be putting more effort in it too, but I’m just so so grateful to have you. I’m not really good with words, but know that I love you so much.”, he says, kissing your forehead.

“Wow Tsukki, never knew you were this sappy.”, you shove him playfully.

“Tch. Shut up, idiot.”

“Your idiot.”

“Whatever.”

You both laugh until moving on to take out the rest of the items. “I also bought some ramen for the both of us, I hope it’s enough, though.”, you said as you brought out two ramen takeouts. “It’s fine, I actually bought some dinner since I thought you wouldn’t be coming over. Also, you should’ve texted me that you were coming over. I would’ve bought some more food then.”, Kei replied.

“Well, I wanted it to be a surprise, of course.”, you said, pulling him into another hug. “Yeah but, I just sort of got worried and sad because you didn’t even send me a good morning text or even any text at all.”, he said. You could hear a slight frustration in his voice. You realized that he must’ve felt lonely earlier today, and then a pang of guilt washed over you. Gosh, how stupid am I to not even send him a good morning text?, you thought to yourself. You hugged him tighter.

“I’m so sorry, Kei. I’m so stupid for not even remembering to at least check on you today. I was so busy trying to prepare for today that I even forgot about messaging you. I’m really sorry, Kei.”

“Ssshhh,” he hushed. “It’s okay, what matters is that you’re here with me now. You’re the biggest blessing I’ve ever had. I love you so much.”

“I love you too. Happy birthday, Kei.”

322 notes · View notes

practicingmedicine · 3 years

Text

Practicing Medicine: Chapter One

(+)1

It was eight o'clock in the morning, and Sheriff McBain had just been shot.

There weren’t no lights, no sirens. No outward signs of urgency anywhere, save for the frantic telephone call I’d received just seconds ago and my own bounding heart rate.

It didn’t take me long to pull on my pants or step into my boots. Even with my shaking body, I moved with a sense of purpose, each action a step in a subconscious routine.

Buckle up my pants, lace my boots, grab my glasses, disconnect my Pip-Boy from the outlet, clip that bad-mama on and get it running…

The black screen turned a vibrant green color as I clicked the power button, lighting up my dark room. These were the words on the screen:

PIP-OS(R) v1.0.3

LOADER V1. 1

EXEC VERSION 41.10

32K RAM SYSTEM

16811 BYTES FREE

HOLLOWTAPE LOADED: “THE-SCIENCE-OF-UNCERTAINTY”

INITIALISING….

SUCCESS!

> STATUS

Battery Level: 100%

Wireless Signal: (?)

Operating Temperature: 90F

> HEALTH

BP: 150/120

SPO2: 100%

Temp: 98.5F

RR: 25

HR: 160

> TIME

Day: 25 September 2279

Time: 08:01

> CLIMATE

Current Temperature: 78F

Atmospheric Pressure: 753 mm

Background Radiation: 0.231 RAD

---

I couldn’t read much, so I wasn’t sure exactly what each of them meant, but I got the gist- I knew exactly what I needed to know. I threw open my door and strode into the hallway, grabbing my father’s white coat off of a hook along the way. I slipped it on over my shoulders as I strode up to the front door, where my faded orange doctor’s-bag lay on its side. Before I threw the strap over my shoulder, I made sure to quickly button my coat and pull my green tie tight around my shirt collar, because my father told me that a doctor should always look his best. I hefted my bag up with one hand and pushed the door open with the other.

The morning sun was bright in my eyes. It was hot outside, about 97 Fahrenheit if my pip-boy was telling me the truth. Not that it mattered- I was used to the heat, and my patient was inside the air-conditioned Bison Steve’s Hotel. I didn’t give it much space in my head.

I started to sprint, skirting the corner of my neighbor’s house and running out into the main square, heavy bag swinging wildly in my aching right hand. As much as I wanted to have time to process all this, to stride up all slow and confident like father had taught me, I didn’t have the time. It could be a matter of seconds deciding whether or not the Sheriff survived.

I was starting to feel kind of dizzy, like you do when you’re fixing to vomit. The Hotel was just up ahead now. The big “Bison Steve’s” sign flickered eerily as I walked up to the double wooden doors, which I pulled on at least three times before I remembered that they were push doors. A rush of cool air washed over my skin as I stepped into the building, and tried to regain my composure. I cleared my throat.

“Alright- Alright y’all, listen up: My name is Isaac Saller, and I am a medic! ” I shouted. There was silence. “‘I’m empty holstered, so please don’t shoot!”

That may have been a bad idea, in retrospect, but it was all that I had planned for an active-shooter type deal. I didn’t deal well with confrontation.

The front hall and the reception desk were abandoned, but the lights were on. I stepped through the next set of propped-open doors and into a dark hallway, where a pretty blonde woman was cowering, holding onto a wall-mounted telephone. Her red face glistened with sweat.

That would be Mrs. McBain.

“Oh my god, Isaac! Come here, quickly- I think my husband is dying!” I power-walked to catch up with her, then tried to keep up a comparable walking pace. Which was kind of hard, given my height; I was still, “between hay and grass ,” my father would have said.

“Could you tell me what happened?” I asked. The words felt so strange to say out loud. I’d practiced what I’d do in a real emergency, but now that it was actually happening, I couldn’t believe that I was actually falling into my routine, just like I did for everything else. Must not have seen any other option.

“Well, the boys- Beagle and my husband, right, they were doing firing drills! But then the shooting stopped and my husband started airing his lungs, just shouting something awful. And when I ran in to see what happened, I saw that Beagle had shot him in the leg!”

And, there was the story. I let out a sigh of relief; here I was worried that I might be dealing with some crazy psychopath! Though, the more I let myself think on it, an idiot like Beagle with a gun started to seem just as dangerous.

“Does he still got the gun?” I asked, approaching one of the four doors to what had to be the firing range. The familiar scent of gunpowder stung my nose as I cracked open the rightmost door, and peered into the massive, open room. I didn’t see nobody, but then again, my vision was so awful that my patient could’ve been right in front of me. Mrs. McBain brushed through the doors.

“No, I made him put it down!” I nodded and entered the room.

As I stepped through the doorway, another smell drifted in after the first- a sharp, metallic smell that hung in the air like some sort of leaking gas. Subtle, and not quite so intimately familiar, but I recognized it right away; the acrid smell of blood rubbed on skin.

“Hey Doc, come on in--the Sheriff is lying over here,” said Deputy Beagle, waving his iron about. I flinched.

“Holster that!” I shouted back, “I’m not going to do anything until-“

“Beagle! You put that thing down right now or I’ll shoot you myself!” Shouted Mrs. McBain. Beagle made a dramatic sigh.

“Fine. But, you know it was an accident, and it ain’t like I’m gonna do it again.” He tossed the gun aside. The cocked, loaded, cold-steel weapon hit the ground hammer-first.

The ensuing, “BANG!” was, no kidding, the second loudest thing I’d ever heard.

“Goddammit!” Beagle shouted, and Mrs. McBain screamed and dropped to a crouch. I just sat, stunned, staring at the gun and trying to think again. It was like my mind was a Television set, and someone had just thrown a brick through the screen; An all-encompassing static crept over my senses.

“Isaac? Isaac, are you alright sweetie ?” asked Mrs. McBain, over the loud ringing in my ears. I nodded.

“I’m okay ,” I lied. I kept nodding. “I’m okay, I’m okay, I’m okay…”

“You sure don’t look okay,” said Beagle. He was too close to me, way too close. I took a deep breath and pushed him back a little bit.

“I’m good! Where’s the Sheriff?!” I looked around warily. My eardrums were still bubbling, but I was starting to be able to hear myself think again. I had apparently dropped my medical bag on the floor, but it hadn’t opened up or spilled.

“Jesus kid, can you not turn your head on your neck? Over there, sitting against the support beam!” snapped Beagle, motioning towards the wounded Sheriff with his whole upper body. I felt like yelling back but I didn’t. I just gave him a quick nod and stumbled over to the fallen Sheriff.

The bright red pool beneath Sheriff McBain’s thigh had already begun to clot into ketchup-like clumps. As I got closer, I could hear him muttering to himself, though I couldn’t understand what about. I dropped to a crouch beside him, opened my bag and rooted through it til I found myself a pair of gloves. I had to work to get them on with how sweaty my hands were.

“Hello, Sheriff! Can you understand me?” I asked. He smiled up at me.

“Hey! You’re Isaac, the um, the Gambling-Place owner’s son. Uh, Casino! Yeah…” He trailed off. In my head, I started going over my ABCs, because apparently my mind was too overwhelmed to do anything but stick to its beaten-path routines.

He could speak, so his Airway was patent. I didn’t have time to properly test his Breathing, but it sounded fast and a little shallow. That was par for the course, which left me with the real problem, his Circulation- that’d be the bleeding.

“Alright, Sheriff, I’m going to take your pants off. Tell me if it hurts much,” I said, unbuttoning and unzipping his trousers. They got snagged up on his shoes, so I started pulling harder. He just laughed as I pulled them off.

“Actually, I don’t feel much of anything in this leg! Just like I got punched, and now it’s burnin’, sorta.”

That was good. It meant that the bone probably hadn’t been fractured, and I wouldn’t need any med-x. I always kept an emergency syringe of the stuff, but I was reluctant to actually use it on anyone.

Once I’d gotten his pants off, I touched his leg. It was cold and wet. I’d assumed shock, based on the bigass blood pool, but I could be dramatic like that; This was solid confirmation. I was going to have to work fast!

As I searched around in my bag for a tourniquet with one hand, I held up the Sheriff’s leg up with my other, so that I could see the wound in the dimly lit firing range. The hole wasn’t big. At least, not the entry- just a red, penny-sized oval near the base of his thigh, surrounded by bruised skin and seeping out blood. Like a bloody little volcano.

The exit wound, on the other hand, was massive . A jagged hole right under his ass with flaps of skin hanging loose around it, spitting out a torrential amount of bright red blood with each beat of his bounding heart. Based on the color of the blood and the way that it was coming out, I knew that the bullet had nicked or severed his femoral artery. I also knew that I probably couldn’t repair that with forceps and bandages alone. The best thing I could do would be to stem the bleeding, and get a stimpack as quick as possible.

Of course, that presented a little bit of a problem: See, stimpacks are awful expensive, so carrying them around wasn’t always an option for a man like myself. As of now, I didn’t actually have any of them-things in my jump-bag. Some places ‘round here had one in a box on the wall, but I didn’t see none in here, and I’d have noticed one in the hall if there’d been one. I cursed under my breath.

“Go and get me a stimpack!” I ordered. I had finally found where I kept my tourniquets without actually looking into the bag, though if I had any sort of presence of mind, I would have been embarrassed at how long it had taken me. I pulled his shoe off, and slipped the tourniquet on over his leg.

“I’ll fetch one from the kitchen!” replied Mrs. McBain, and I nodded to let her know I’d heard. Now that I had a stimpack on the way, all I had to do was keep the Sheriff from kickin it until I could apply the damn thing.

Easier said than done.

“Why are you squeezing me? You taking my blood numbers or something?” The Sheriff asked, as I pulled the premade tourniquet tight and started cranking on it. I tried to smile.

“I’m not taking your blood pressure, sir, I’m putting on a tourniquet. It’ll hurt, but you’ll bleed a lot less.” When I couldn’t tighten it anymore, I took out another tourniquet, and fastened it right above the first one, against the base of his thigh. It was a good thing that the Sheriff was thin, or I’d be having some issues about now.

“What are you doing? He could lose his leg that way!” shouted Beagle. When I kept on tightening the second tourniquet, he hit me in the back of the head- not so much to hurt me as to get a reaction out of me. I didn’t give him one. “Hey, are you blind and deaf? I’m talking to you!”

“Stop it Beagle! Isaac is a good… he’s a good kid,” insisted the Sheriff, his voice growing weak. I finished cranking the tourniquet, and touched the Sheriff’s ashen forehead. He looked like he’d stuck his head in a drinking fountain, with how much he was sweating...

“Could you try and talk with me, Sheriff? I’m gonna try some more stuff, try to keep you from going into decompensated shock.”

The Sheriff looked confused. He squinted up at me with teary eyes.

“Shock? You mean, the reason why it don’t hurt? I’m pretty sure I’m already in shock, but I ain’t- I ain’t shocked, you know. Like, I know what’s happened. I got my mind about me ,” he grumbled, tapping his head conspiratorially. I removed a few packets of gauze from my bag and tore them open.

“No, I mean when your organs stop working cause your blood-pressure drops and they ain’t getting enough blood!” Finally, I finished packing the exit wound tight with gauze. I started putting pressure on it.

“Oh. Huh. Well, you doctors ought to stop having so many words that mean- that mean all different things,” the Sheriff replied, his breath passing his lips so quietly that I was worried he might have fallen unconscious. I stopped moving.

“Sheriff?” I asked. When he didn’t respond, I reached into my coat with my free hand, and pulled out a small metal tinderbox full of a reddish powder. I waved it under his nose.

“Wake up, Sheriff!” I shouted. He started coughing and looking around wildly.

“Ah, Jesus Christ, what the hell is that smell?” I slipped the box back in my coat.

“N-H-Four, sir! It’s supposed to keep you awake!”

Of course, it wasn’t doing a very good job at it! Before I was even done speaking, the sheriff had puked all over himself and slumped forward. I grabbed him by the shoulders and shook him vigorously.

“Keep them eyes open Sheriff! Stay with me here!” His eyes fluttered.

“You know, I like your voice! It’s like, you talk like a teacher, but then you got your daddy’s cowboy-thing going on, so it’s sort of funny…” he muttered. His head hung limp on his neck. I let him drop to his side, and focused on applying pressure to the wound again.

“Um, Isaac?” I looked over my shoulder. Deputy Beagle was standing above me again, clasping his hands together. I wasn’t so good at reading emotions, but I’d seen enough pre-vomit patients to know that he was feeling sick. He had spoken so quietly, which was strange considering how loud he’d been before. “Isaac, Is he gonna die? I thought that getting shot in the leg didn’t kill people. Why’s he acting like that?” I sighed.

“I sure hope not. But, there’s a big red-pipe in your leg, and if it gets hit, you bleed a lot. I don’t know what the hell I’m supposed to do if I don’t get a stimpack soon!”

As if on cue, Mrs. McBain came rushing into the room, her dress all bunched up and full of miscellaneous medical supplies. Among the heaps of things I didn’t need, I could see a stimpack poking up.

“Isaac! I brought a bunch of things, I don’t know what’ll help and what won’t, but-”

Suddenly, Mrs. McBain stumbled, and her makeshift pouch came unfurled as she threw out one hand to catch herself.

Aw shit! I dropped everything and ran towards Mrs. McBain, interposing myself between the unsecured, falling medical supplies and the floor. Packaged Band-Aids, bottles of pills and ointments, a pair of scissors- it all went tumbling over me and I didn’t care, until suddenly I saw the fragile old stimpack teetering on the edge. By now, Mrs. McBain was trying to recover, but she was only making matters worse. The supplies were spilling out both sides now, and she was getting dangerously close to just dumping it all on top of me.

The stimpack. That was the focus. I shot out my hand to try to grab it, but I only succeeded in tipping it off it’s balance point, causing it to tumble back into the pouch.

I sat up, and all the supplies that had landed on me spilled back onto the floor.

“Don’t-“ I started, but she had already slipped and let go of the other side of the pouch. I cried out as it all went spilling on the ground.

“The stimpack!” I looked down, and found that through some unchecked reflex, I had caught it on my outstretched thigh. I blinked.

“Huh,” I said, and snatched the needle off my leg. I rushed back over to the Sheriff, who was unconscious and drooling. Beagle was sitting beside him, pressing hard on the entrance with his bloodstained hands and muttering to himself.

“Kurt, you can’t die- I’m, I’m just a deputy, if you die I’ll have to handle this whole town myself, and you know I can’t do that! Please, please don’t you die, please-“ I took a knee beside Beagle and his brother, stimpack in hand. Beagle was crying.

“Am I- am I doing this right?” He asked. I nodded.

“You are doing just stupendously! Just keep doing that!” I replied. I lifted up the sheriff’s leg, tore out all the gauze and probed around with the needle for a minute, until I’d found the deflated husk of his split femoral artery among all of the slick yellow fat and ground-beef looking shit in his leg. I didn’t have much light to work with and it was pretty well buried beneath the gory chaos of the exit, but I knew it when I saw it- despite the tourniquet, the top end was still spritzing out bright red blood with each passing heartbeat. I took my forceps out of my bag, which already had some fishing-line and a hook wrapped around them, and got to suturing the split ends together. The artery kept on pulsing out blood around the edges as I passed my hook and line through it’s thick middle layer.

‘Moment of truth, Isaac,’ I thought, as I squared off my suture. I picked up the stimpack again, prepped the needle with my shaking hands. I took a deep breath.

In the dim light of the firing range, I stuck the pipe.

The freezing cold from the reaction chilled my gloved fingers halfway to the bone. Had it worked? Would it hold? I had no idea. It wasn’t squirting blood no more, so I snipped off the end of the suture and pulled all the fishing line out, then started suturing up his ragged exit-wound, so that the ends of the skin were facing upwards. I didn’t even bother squaring off the end before running a stimpack along the seam. Once his thigh had sewed up along an ugly white line, I pulled all the fishing string out, because otherwise I was just asking for it to get infected. I still had a little stimpack-juice left, so I moved Beagle aside and shot the rest of it into the tiny-little entry wound, to sort out any of the leftover internal damage.

More time passed in silence. I knew it wouldn’t matter, but I loosened and removed the tourniquets to feel like I was doing something. My ears were ringing, blood was soaking into my pants like syrup, but I barely noticed- all that mattered now was if he was going to live, or if he was going to die. I was just going to have to have faith now.

“Is it working?” asked Mrs. McBain. I checked the Sheriff’s pulses, noticed that some warmth had returned to his skin...

Pulse is already stronger , and I can actually get a femoral. I sighed with relief. “It’s working. Pressure’s up.” A few more seconds passed. “I doubt he stopped perfusing to his brain for long, so his head should be fine, if you’re worried about that. He’s gonna need a ton of fluid, though, and he might need some more help with that leg-“ I started, but then Mrs. McBain wrapped her arms around me and pulled me into a tight hug. Once I was over the initial shock, I hugged her back.

“Thanks,” I murmured. Mrs. McBain laughed.

“You saved my husband, Isaac! You saved his life!”

I nodded and tried to free myself from the asphyxiating hug. Unfortunately, Mrs. McBain was a teensy bit stronger than me. “I don’t even know how to thank you. Do you want caps? We- well, you know we aren’t rich, but we have a tin of caps hidden away under the floorboards!” Still struggling in vain to free myself, I shook my head.

“No- no, Mrs. McBain, I don’t want no caps! I just need you to work with me here for these next couple weeks to get your husband healthy again. I mean, he just caught a bullet, he’s gonna need some help getting back to normal...” I was lying about the caps. I would have loved caps, considering how much I was hurting for supplies. But I also wanted to establish that I didn’t charge for my services, and Mrs. McBain had a way of inadvertently spreading that sort of information.

“Oh, but I can’t just let you go back to work like that- look at you, you’re all filthy!” she said, finally releasing me from the hug. I stumbled back and fell onto my rear. “Why don’t you come over to our house- You can get those clothes washed, and I’ll get you some lunch. And a shower too, what would Penny say if she saw you like this?”

Well, I couldn’t disagree with her on that count. Just hugging Mrs. Mcbain, I’d gotten spots of blood all over her dress. Momma had already had to warn me about tracking blood in the house before...

“Alright,” I said. The ringing in my ears was tolerable now. I was starting to be able to think straight again, even if I was still shaking and sweating like hell. I noticed that Beagle had offered me his hand.

“Um- yes!” I said, pulling off my glove and allowing him to haul me up to my feet. He held on real tight to my hand and looked at me with an expression that I couldn’t parse.

“I owe you one, Isaac. I know that this is my fault, and that I’m not always nice to you, but I- I really do appreciate this. I don’t know what I’d have done without my brother.” I tried out a smile. Beagle smiled back at me, and it almost made me forget how much of a prick he’d been when I was a kid. Almost.

“Water under the bridge, Beagle,” I replied. I thought about winking, but I once made a girl run away from me when I tried to wink at her, so I held off.

“Isaac, sweetie-“ I turned around. Mrs. McBain was standing in the doorway. “The door’s unlocked, why don’t you come back to the house first? We can lay my husband down while you wash up.”

I considered. The sheriff seemed stable enough for that proposal, but no one else seemed to quite understand the extent of what he’d just suffered, or the long road that lay ahead for him. I mean, hell, he’d had his leg blown open, lost a third of his blood, and then had a stimpack injected right into a central artery! There were some things I wanted to take care of before I attended to myself.

“I like that idea, but can I borrow one of you to help me finish sorting out Beagle first?” I asked. Mrs. McBain looked at Beagle.

“Beagle, seeing as how you’re the one who shot him…” she started. Beagle put his hands above his head.

“I’ll handle it, ma’am. What should I do?” I raised my hand.

“We’re gonna try to get him on a mattress, if we can. Start him on some Saline and get him drinking water when he wakes up, the stimpack and his body will sorta work together to replace all that blood he lost. He’s going to be in a lot of pain, so we’ll have to give him morphine when he wakes up. I’ve got powder and IV’s with me,” I said, trying my best to cover all my bases without over-explaining. Mrs. McBain started to walk away.

“Alright! You two do what you have to, I'll be getting the house ready for him.” she said, and disappeared through the doorway. I looked at Beagle.

“He didn’t hurt his back none, right?” I asked. Beagle shook his head. “Good. I’m gonna grab his legs then, you grab his arms- let’s get him on one of them cots over there, then move him from there.”

He nodded. We grabbed a hold of the Sheriff’s limbs.

“Alright. Three, two, one-”

[+]

#fallout #fallout fanfic #fallout fanfiction #fallout fandom

3 notes · View notes

lovingthereign25 · 4 years

Text

The Chase

Part 9

The morning light beamed through the curtains of yours and Roman's shared bedroom. You turn over seeing your husband already staring at you.

"Good morning Beautiful" he says in his raspy morning voice

"Good morning my love'' you whisper

Roman pulled your body close to his giving you a good morning kiss, which is usually innocent but today Roman had other things on his mind. As his hands start you slide up your night shirt knowing all too well you were only in panties underneath, you stop him at your hips

"Roman the girls could wake up any minute." You whisper

"Not today baby,Your parents took them last night and they won't be home until later our moms were taking them out for a shopping day"he says grinding his hardened member into you.

''Shit I completely forgot" you remember

"It's fine baby, now come here and let me make love to my gorgeous wife" he smiles sliding your shirt over your head.

*November 2017*

In late October rumors the shield reunited. Kicking ass like they always did, taking care of the Miz and his lackeys then ending the night taking down Braun Stroman. Unfortunately seeing Roman in his Shield gear would have to wait he was diagnosed with mumps and out into isolation for three weeks, which he hated but what killed him the most was the fact that he couldn't be around his children .

Raw had been under siege two weeks ago by Smackdown live.And last week the New day cost Seth and Dean their tag titles. So this week Roman was back and baby was playing no games Stephanie was in the ring yelling at Kurt about how he does his job when the music hits. And Seth, Dean and Roman walked through the crowd into the ring confronting Stephanie and telling her they want a piece of the New Day.

Survivor Series is finally here. The shield vs the New Day was here. Roman fully dressed in his shield gear was here.

"Hey, Ro just checking to see if your ready Seth and Dean are waiting for you" you say entering his locker room

"Yeah just adjusting my vest" he says

You look him up and down, licking your lips, you don't know what it was but something about Roman in that gear just sent you over the edge.

"Your staring" he say with a smirk on his face

"Can't help it, I forgot how good you looked in that gear" you say walking up to him

"Down girl, my match is first" he laughs

"Well I don't have a match tonight so whatta say after your match we head to the hotel and break the gear in again" you say kissing his neck.

"Y/n, Please I can't go to the ring hard" he sighs

"Sorry, I've just been having such dirty thoughts about you in this gear... you're bringing out the naughty girl in me Daddy"

You tease

"Fuck, stop I need to head to the ring, you coming?'' he asks

"Hopefully I will be later" you wink slapping his ass

"Let's go'' he laughs shaking his head

As soon as Roman and you were alone in his locker room after the match your lips were on Roman. Anywhere and everywhere his lips,cheeks, jaw, neck, even the little but of exposed chest.

"Y/n, let me change" he moans

" No, no I want you to fuck me while you're in your gear" you pant

"Okay okay but not here baby, I'm not trying to pay a fine for fucking my wife" he laughs.

Once in the hotel room Roman had you undressed in seconds. Leaving you in just your panties just the way he liked it. Roman carried you to the bed throwing you down and sliding your panties to the slide feeling just how ready you were for him.

"You ready baby?"he asks, removing your underwear completely leaving you exposed to him.

"Yes, Roman have your way with me" you say pulling him by his vest to your lips for a kiss.

"I was planning to, Jesus I love you" he says pushing himself into you making your eyes roll back at how good it felt you be full of him

"Shit Ro, it feels so good" you say trying to grab onto anything on him to bring him closer to you knowing it wasn't really possible to be any closer then you two were in this moment

"Yeah, that's it baby girl take it, take it all'' he grunts pulling out of you completely flipping you on to your stomach. He runs his fingers down your spine giving your ass a quick snack before entering again thrusts getting harder and deeper each and every time.

"Fuck, Roman ahhh shit…. damn " you moan

"Shit Y/n always so freakin tight,I'm not gonna last much longer"he groans

'' I'm close Roman, so close" you moan out

After a few more thrusts you hit your climax screaming Roman's name loud enough for the entire rest of the 5th floor of the hotel to hear. Roman hitting his slightly after you spilling into the condom you agreed on. He laid on the bed patting the spot next to him for you to join him.

"Come on let's rest up before round two" he smiles

"Actually I'm gonna head out, I'm flying to Hawaii for Dakota and Reagan's wedding" you say, finding the rest of your clothes.

"Didn't know his wedding was this week, why didn't you say anything?" He asks

"I don't know, just figured you had a lot on your plate with the match and big reunion"

"He's our nephew Y/n, I would have made a change in my schedule" he says

"Technically he's my nephew, we're separated...until the divorce is finalized" you say

Roman had enough. He was pissed not only at the fact that you didn't tell him about your nephew's wedding but also because you were still gonna go through with the divorce after a few months of this jumping into his bed and vice versa.

"So the divorce is happening, is that what you're telling me?' he asks

"Well once both sets of papers are signed yeah that's how it usually works babe" you say

"Then what the hell are we doing Y/n?" He snaps

"What do you mean?" You ask

"This" he says pointing between the two of you "all the kissing ,rubbing on me , dirty talk calling me "Daddy" , all the sex we been having since September, I'm confused" he snaps again

"I don't know, it's just sex I guess, I love you I just can't forgive you Roman"

"You can't forgive me but you can fuck me" he hisses.

*March 2018*

If it was one thing you hated most in the world it was Roman fighting Brock Lesnar, not because he couldn't beat Brock cause he probably could it was because Brock played dirty and didn't follow WWE rules he did whatever the hell he wanted without any care for his opponent. But here you are weeks away from seeing the match you never wanted to see again. Roman and Brock's issues go further than the ring. It's about the passion and respect for the business that Roman and the other superstars have and Brock doesn't. It's about how Brock has had his eyes on you since you could remember and he always takes a shot to make sexual and inappropriate comments towards you. Brock hasn't shown up for Raw in weeks which left Roman pissed, leading him to express his opinion and landing him "suspended" . Anyway Roman was supposed to show up on Raw breaking suspension and be "arrested" and then Brock would make a move come down F5 Roman and that's it but of course that's not went down Brock attacked Roman while handcuff not once but twice leaving you no choice but to then get involved shoving the beast, slapping , punching , screaming at him to leave Roman alone.

Brock stops.

"That's nothing Big Dog, wait til Mania" he says laughing. You go with Roman to a medical center.

"You sure you're okay? You ask him

"Yea, I'm good, but Y/n you really shouldn't have got involved, Brock is unpredictable" he says

" Ro, if I hadn't there's no telling what he would have done to you" you say

" I'd rather me get hurt than you" he snaps

" You were handcuffed, I had to do something, I mean look at your freaking wrist they're bruised" you say rubbing your fingers softly across his bruises.

"I couldn't just stand there and watch him hurt you" you finish

*Wrestlemania 2018*

Your stomach was in knots, your nerves were completely shot. Roman's match was about to start, you were waiting for his music to hit.

" Y/n, I don't want you out here tonight, it's too dangerous" Roman says

"No way Roman, incase anything happens I will ant to be right there" you say

"Y/n, it's not a conversation,I already told Hunter and Steph I want you banned from ringside" he says

"Roman, are you serious?" You snap

"Yes, believe it or not I still love you and I care about your well being" he says turning to face Steve who controls the music giving him a countdown on his fingers

" Fine. Have a good match, please be careful" you say as Roman goes to walk towards the curtain you grab his hand pulling him into a hug and kissing his cheek

"Believe it or not I still love you too, I'll be front row sitting next to your mom" you whispered.

You took your seat next to Patricia,she was just as nervous as you she took your hand in hers.

"He'll be okay, he was born to do this it's in his blood" she smiles

The match started off back and forth, then Brock had the upper hand for a while tossing Roman around like a ragdoll. You say there helplessly watching , next thing you know your husband was put through the announcement table right in front of you with Brock snarling a little " that was for you" you jump to your feet looking over the barrier at Roman, Sika pulling you back to your chair.

"He's got this" he smiles

Brock took Roman back in the ring and delivered another F5 went for the pin but Roman kicked out. You secretly wished he hadn't but he did.

That's was it , Brock was pissed. Your stomach clenching knowing it was a matter of seconds before WWE rules went out the window, and they did Brock takes his protective gloves off punching Roman and hitting him with his elbow at the end ... instantly blood was pouring from Roman's head. You've never seen so much blood in your life your husband was covered in it.

Brock pins Roman. Thank goodness it was over.

" I got to check on him, that's too much blood" you say with tears in your eyes.

"Y/n?", Is Daddy okay?" You hear Jojo ask

You look at Roman then to your step daughter.

" Yeah, baby he's okay" you fake smile bringing her in for tight hug

Roman makes it to his feet walking to where you and his family are seated, you two make eye contact Roman lowers his head you reach your hand out for him, he grabs your giving it a little squeeze.

" I'll meet you in the back" you say

He just nods.

In the back you see the medics checking on Roman getting him ready for staples, the one tells you he's all done and ready for you to go in and you nearly run to Roman.

" Easy there…..I'm really sore" he laughs holding you tight

You don't say anything instead you kiss him.

" No more, promise me no more matches with Brock" you say

" Y/n, I want that title" he says

"Roman, at what costs him ending your career one wrong suplex and it could snap your neck, I want you happy but I need you healthy, here , our children need you." You say

"Fine, no more matches against Brock" he sighs.

" Thank you" you say

Roman pulls you in between his legs kissing.

" I love you" you say pulling away

"Say it again" he says

" I love you" you smile

" I've missed hearing you say that" he smiles

"Come on let's go home to our kids….all five of them" you smile.

#roman reigns x reader #roman reigns smut #roman reigns imagine #roman reigns fanfiction #the chase

49 notes · View notes

maxparkhurst · 4 years

Text

Omens Written in Crimson

Wednesday, September 30th

Max sat alone in the Brawl Pub’s backroom.

She lolled her head back with an exhausted sigh. Her tongue ran along the tops of her teeth, feeling the slick film left behind from the mouth guard. Each pass made her grimace. The constant pressure on her teeth always made them ache. She shot an accusatory glare at the ill-fitting guard abandoned on the floor. It looked back in silence.

Another sigh slipped from her lips as she eased back into the wall. Who was she kidding? Everything fucking hurt. Pain pulsed through every pore of her body, starting from the gash under her chin leading all the way down to her quaking legs.

Click. Click. Click.

Max pursed her lips. Her knee started to pop, sending an agitated flare up the length of her leg. She clapped a hand on it and found the joint to be swollen and tender. She squeezed with the tiniest ounce of pressure. A sickening bolt of pain shot up her spine. It made her stomach flip.

“Fuck,” she wheezed.

She doubled-over and cradled her knee. Deep breaths in and slow breaths out. The pain only lasted as long as she fed it attention. Deep breaths in and slow breaths out. She worked herself down from a pained frenzy and waited for the throb to fade into mild discomfort. To keep her mind off it, she tuned in to the intoxicated cheers that filtered through the door. A new fight must’ve started.

Business as usual, she thought ruefully, reflecting on her conversation with Augustine earlier that evening.

She was in the middle of counting out his allowance when she caught him staring. He sat across the table with a far-off look in his eyes. A lazy grin spread across her lips as leaned over and waved a hand in his face. It took him a minute to snap out of his stupor. He blinked incredulously before giving her his attention.

“Specter watching?” she remarked, quirking a brow.

Augustine dismissed her question with the shake of his head. Some light returned to his eyes. “No,” he laughed, “I’m just thinking.”

“About?”

He sunk down into his chair and shrugged. “Just...It’s Wednesday...”- he looked off to the side- “And...Um. We always go to the bakery.”

Max heaved a sigh. “I told you already,” she began, sliding silver pieces into a pouch, “I have to reschedule my business meetings to accommodate our Hallow’s End hours.”

“I know. It’s just going to weird eating Cinnamon Scrolls by myself.”

"You aren’t going to be by yourself.” Max checked herself upon catching a pointed look from Auggie. “Tell you what,” she mused, dropping a few extra coins into the pouch, “You go ahead and buy enough to share and I’ll slip out early.” She tossed him the pouch. “Sound fair?”

He caught the bag of coins, looking rather unconvinced as he tied it to his belt. “Yeah...Sure.”

Max’s brows dropped into a furrow. “Hey,” -she placed a hand on his shoulder- “I’m serious. Nothing but business as usual. I’ll finish up early and swing by before Callyanne closes shop.”

Auggie met her gaze with a meek smile. “Promise?”

“Promise.”

Click. Click. Click.

Her knee protested against each step as she shuffled out into the Pub’s fray. The Pit, surprisingly packed for a weekday, was in full revelry. Patrons smelling of booze and sweat shifted in their unanimous drove, pushing and shoving in eager attempts to place their bets. Their cheers rang in her ears. They were giving her a splitting headache. Max slipped through the crowd and made a beeline for the bar. She collapsed in a stool and flagged down a bartender.

“Ye look loike shite, Max.”

A stout dwarf appeared before Max with a cheeky grin. Without her saying anything, he reached for a glass and started to pour a shot of whiskey. “Somethin’ tae ease the pain, hm?”

Max’s head dropped into an open palm and gave him a weak smile. “Thank you,” she breathed, letting the glass linger at her lips. The amber liquid shifted in tandem to her stomach. She wasn’t sure if she could down it. “What time is it?” she asked, setting the shot aside.

“Quarter ‘til ten,” the barkeep remarked, “Why? Ye scheduled for ‘nother fight?”

Max shook her head. Another hour until the bakery closed. That was enough time to run home and change, she reckoned. Maybe she could spare a minute to rest. “Mmmm, no,” she hummed, laying her head down, “I’m leaving early.”

The barkeep guffawed. “Raz know tha’?”

Her gaze shifted to the alcoves hugging the rear wall. She could see his smoke cloaked booth from here. Rasterfelt lounged with a lap dame in either arm, watching the fights with a sly grin, while his entourage “mingled” over Shal’dorei wine.

“Nope,” she drawled. She tossed the barkeep a pointed look honeyed by her cordial grin. “Not that he’ll notice”

“Ye’ve got balls, lass.” His attention shifted to a patron on the other end of the bar. “Be wit’ ye’ in a moment!” he called over his shoulder. He held a finger up to Max- "Hold tha' thought,"- and went to attend the other clientele.

Max surveyed the Pub’s parlor, gaze lingering only for a moment at each table before turning to the next, when she caught sight of an unfamiliar pair. An elven man and a human woman dressed in casual attire. She furrowed her brow. A bit too casual for the Pub. They sat in the rear-most booth with one of the regular brawlers. Max hardly recognized them. The woman spoke with an eerie smile as she gestured to a case sprawled open between them. Vials nestled in its velveteen interior glistened under the fluorescent light. An excited smile was etched on the brawler’s lips as he nodded to whatever was being negotiated. Max breathed a tired laugh; poor guy looked easy to swindle. All parties rose and shook hands. The woman slid over the case while the gentleman palmed a pouch of coins from the brawler. Neither’s face shifted a single degree.

They wear their poker faces well, Max thought, Congratulations to them. She shifted in her chair, getting to bounce, when the gentleman caught her eye. With a single glance, he pinned her to her seat.

The crowd’s roar turned hollow in her ears. In its place was a dull ringing as a chill crept up her spine. She tried not to let the stranger see her shiver. He eyed Max with the same familiarity as one has for a friend. He acted as if he knew Max intimately; as if they were the only two people left. His golden gaze was unwavering as his lips spread into a malicious grin. They parted as he mouthed:

She mis-

“Damn it, Max! Ye bleedin’ all ovah my counter!”

Max jolted upright as the barkeep slammed a meaty fist on the counter. It was as if he popped a seal. The ringing in her ears faded under the wave of commotion which came crashing down. She blinked out of her stupor and followed his gaze down the puddle of blood sitting where her head had been. “Bleeding?” she echoed, bringing a hand to her face. A sticky, wet stream dripped from her nose. She wiped it and brought her hand back.

The dwarf’s irritated grumbles were lost to Max as she sat there staring at her crimson riddled hand. This feeling stirring in her chest was a familiar one. It made her heart seize and crawl into her throat, pounding at a skittish rhythm, while her breath laid trapped in her lungs. She felt as if she were dangling over a precarious precipice. And under its vastness she shivered. She shivered because she had so much more to lose now...

“ ‘Ey. Ye alright, Max?”

She swallowed hard and hiccupped out a mangled ‘yeah.’ She left no room for conversation as she pushed herself up and stumbled out the pub.

It’d be foolish to think anything of the encounter. Dozens of deals were struck within the safety of the Pub nefarious shadow. It was almost kosher. The likely hood that is had anything to do with her was slim to none. Max abandoned her and all she stood for in Boralus. Her business was in Boralus. She wasn’t suppose to be anywhere but Boralus. And yet, she couldn’t seem to shake the dread lapping at her nerves.

Max kept the bloody stream at bay with a hand cupped over her nose as she sleeked through the alleys. It’s just a coincidence she told herself Just a coincidence. You know nothing about it aside from it being a coincidence.

But if Maxinora Parkhurst truly knew anything it was that coincidences don’t exist.

No. There were only omens.

@lightsong-legacy for mentions

#| Story of Fire and Storm |#|ACT I: Omens Written in Crimson |#IC Stories #The Alchemists #Original writing #Maxinora Parkhurst #Augustine Parkhurst #tw: mentions of blood

12 notes · View notes

healingchildhoodtrauma · 4 years

Text

*trigger warning: child abuse, suicide

The unraveling of a lifetime of denial

At the beginning of last year, I cut all ties with my abusive brother after I started having vivid, highly disturbing nightmares about him. I could no longer deny how badly he hurt me. I couldn’t even see his name or picture without going into a flashback.

Also at the beginning of last year, I went no contact with my narcissistic mother. She pretended to empathize and believe me about my brother to then go behind my back and complain about “having to handle me with kid gloves” (although she never has, even when I actually was a kid).

I lived with my sister from then until February of this year, who showed me beyond a shadow of a doubt (and even admitted) that she’s just like my mother. So after a lot of wrestling with my own denial, I had to go no contact with her as well.

That left my dad. I stayed in contact with him until about April/May of this year! But once I started being honest with myself about everyone in my family, peeling back the layers of denial.. and no longer had to live in disassociation because I no longer lived with any family members, it became more clear to me all the ways he was abusive on his own. There was like a tier of abusive people in my family, everyone abused me physically when I was a child and continued to emotionally even into my adulthood. I started to realize any connection to my family at all kept me stuck in this role as the scapegoat - I saw myself through their eyes: as worthless, deserving abuse, my feelings didn’t matter. I was struggling with money and my dad offered to help, the last time I saw him he was cold and indifferent as he always is, but I couldn’t make excuses anymore. I couldn’t fawn anymore. I’m an adult now, I don’t need these trauma responses to survive, I don’t have to retraumatize myself any longer. I remember feeling fine before seeing him, then after I saw him I was hit with a huge wave of feeling suicidal. It couldn’t be any clearer to me what I had to do. It was excruciating: but I had to let go of the final person in my family I was making excuses for.. I was believing a fairy tale in my head about, “at least I had this person” when really they were hurting me along with the rest of them. I made the decision to give up my car, to accept any financial consequences that would arise from not depending on him any longer or seeing/speaking to him in any way. My inner child wasn’t safe around him. I had to hide my vulnerability, and I already have to do that with the rest of the world. To try to do that around the people that should feel like home, is draining and depressing.

The shedding of the denial and disassociation I lived in for my entire life was the most painful and difficult process, I don’t even know how to convey it or put it into words. I remember I sat down at my laptop and started writing a google document intended to be the start of a book. I thought I could sum up my mother’s narcissistic abuse rather quickly. But when I started writing, in a house without any family or abusers, the truth came flooding back to me. I was never safe. My childhood was characterized by violence and threats of violence. I have actually been abused by everyone in my family. Not just emotionally but physically as well. I was like a lamb among wolves. The more I learned about narcissistic mothers and how they triangulate and manipulate the whole family, I felt like I finally understood what was wrong with my family. I see now why my mother worked so hard to keep my controlled and gaslit. Once I started seeing this I couldn’t unsee it. I tried writing about my childhood and realized there were entire years I have barely any recollection of. For the first time in my life since childhood I was flooded again with the sheer terror of my childhood. It wasn’t just neglect. They weren’t just busy or stressed. They were purposely cruel. No amount of minimization or invalidation could make me unsee this truth.

For months I lived in this terror. It didn’t help that there were many compounding factors leading to the decline of my mental health. I got the worst physical injury I’ve had in my life, and every time my wife would undress, clean and redress the wound, I would go into a flashback of when I was physically hurt by my family members and couldn’t get away or fight back. I cried and cried and cried, I shook, I screamed. I didn’t understand what was happening for a while, I didn’t understand why I felt so trapped and powerless and terrified. My wife of course wasn’t purposely hurting me at all, she was helping me, doing what had to be done, and it tore her up to see me in so much pain. It was also physically gruesome to me. I couldn’t look at the wound. It also impaired my functioning more than it already was, because it was my right hand. I couldn’t open or pour myself drinks, I couldn’t really make myself meals, I couldn’t type on my phone which was how I was journaling.

Around this same time the pandemic hit. Along with my constant flashbacks and my finger injury, I started developing OCD like behavior: intense fear of not washing my hands enough, of anything being dirty or contaminated, I felt like I could never get clean enough. I was having daily panic attacks, along with the flashbacks and uncontrollable crying that would happen twice a day when my finger was being cleaned and dressed. I started starving myself. I developed constant headaches, dizziness, fatigue, my muscles and bones started to hurt. I started sleeping all day and only being awake at night in the darkness of my room. I barely left my room, even to go to the bathroom or kitchen. Sitting up became difficult. I remember almost blacking out, feeling swallowed by darkness, and surrendering to it: thinking yes, please, take me, finally. I developed agoraphobia, afraid to even sit on my porch, everyone and everything felt like a threat. I tried sitting by a window and still felt exposed and scared, I’d end up quickly shutting the blinds if I saw anyone and always felt myself scanning for danger. I knew this was CPTSD. I tried a couple different jobs and couldn’t do them, due to my physical and emotional impairments. By June, I gave myself til the end of the month for things to get better. I said to myself, if things don’t get better by then, I give myself permission to kill myself. A wave of relief and joy washed over me. Only one more month!!! Finally, no more suffering! Finally, no more living for others while I am already dead inside. Although at the same time there was this tiny little voice inside me that knew these things I was experiencing were going to get better in time. I kept this plan a secret from my wife. I planned what I was going to do and where my body was going to be found. Then the next day I tried hanging out with her like normal and she started talking about the future. Months from now, things we could do together. I started crying, I didn’t tell her why, I just knew there was no way I could do this to her, no matter how much I was suffering. Within a couple days I told her to keep the bottle of pills with her at night while she went to work because I wanted to overdose on them. Positive change came at the end of the month via a work from home job I tried to do, but could only do for 2 weeks before burning out. But it was enough for me to keep on living and not feel like a burden. Eventually I told my wife about the deal I made with myself and why, and she assured me she wanted me around even if I couldn’t work. Around the time I made the plan I remember being in the bathroom, looking in the mirror, into my eyes, and it was like my inner child inside me said to me, Don’t give up on me.

I tried a free counselor and she wasn’t good. I tried an anti depressant and the side effects were too bad for me to stay on it. This whole time I was self medicating with cannabis but at times it would make the flashbacks and paranoia worse. My finger finally healed. I finally found a supplement that helped me have enough energy to get out of bed more, to cook and even to dance. I learned what to do during flashbacks. I learned how to comfort my inner child. I learned about “high functioning” autism and how so many females go undiagnosed or get misdiagnosed as BPD (which I was in 2013). It explained so many of my difficulties my entire life, including my being taken advantage of by so many people, my hyper sensitivity and my current burnout. The term masking perfectly described what I’ve been doing my entire life. I thought everyone mimicked personalities they thought were likeable to such a degree, I thought everyone followed scripts in their head. I started seeing how the flashbacks from trauma I’ve been experiencing have been compounded by the rumination/brain loops from autism, and meltdowns from sensory overload. I’m finally at a place where I feel like I know how to manage flashbacks and I’m aware of my sensory intolerances/sensitivities. I’m finally at a place where I consistently listen to my body, I don’t push myself into meltdowns. I’m still not working, I still have physical symptoms that we think may be MS but we don’t have insurance for me to see a neurologist yet. I am not starving myself, I’m forcing myself to eat. I’ve been able to go outside more. It’s September, we’re still in a pandemic and I still have trauma to work through, but it’s a lot less on my plate then a couple months ago. I’ve been stretching and even lifting weights from time to time. I’ve been singing and writing. This whole time I’ve been researching everything intensely, it’s one of my “preoccupations”. I’ve learned so much about CPTSD, childhood trauma, narcissistic abuse/families and I continue to learn every day. If you read this far, thank you for reading. I just had to get this out. I’m aware it’s not grammatically perfect. I feel a shift happening as I understand myself more and more. I don’t think too far in the future. But I know I’m heading in the right direction. I know I made the right decision in going no contact with my family. I know it wasn’t my fault they did what they did/are who they are. I’m finding joy in the little things. I still have bad days, healing is like that... two steps forward, one step back. I don’t want anyone to go through what I went through. I want more girls with autism to have support and understanding. I don’t want kids to go through abuse and blame themselves. I don’t want scapegoat children of narcissistic mothers/families to feel obligated to stay in contact with their parasitic families. I want mental health care to be better, more accessible and more affordable.

13 notes · View notes

hunterbahamut · 3 years

Text

A Sulefi’s Tale

Back in 2002-2003, I had written a story known as “A Gnoll’s Tale”. It was a simple fantasy short story that I had come up with, influenced by a few sources, including Baldur’s Gate (I had used a character editor that actually let me change my player sprite with the gnoll sprite). Sadly, the original story was lost when the place I had posted it to before shut down some years ago.

I hadn’t thought about the story in a long time until I say @knaveofdoodles post some art regarding a race he had come up with, the sulefi who are a race of half humans/gnolls. I was a big fan of the idea, so I decided to work on an OC of one myself, and I ended up giving him the same name as the old gnoll character: XanThral.

Because of that, the idea of the story came back to mind, and I had decided to rewrite that old story. Even though I didn’t have the original, I was pretty confident that I remembered the events and was confident enough to actually sit down and start working. I just didn’t realize how long it was going to take, I started this story sometime back in September. However, I ended up putting it on hold until sometime in November when I felt confident enough to start working on it again.

So...for my first story post of 2021, here is the completed story: A Sulefi’s Tale.

I should mention though; this story was written in the same mind set as my other stories, so there is every possibility that there will be grammatical and spelling errors. I did this mostly for fun.

I hope you enjoy!

---

A Sulefi’s Tale

It was a beautiful day; the sun was out and there was a warm breeze blowing, rustling through the leaves and sending waves over the grass in the open field beyond the forest edge. A lone figure sat underneath the trees in the shade, looking out over the open field and the serene view. This was one of Xan'Thral's favorite spots; it was a nice walk from his home in the forest and it had an amazing view that thankfully didn't see a lot of traffic, so he could spend hours here and enjoy the scene.

With the warm breeze blowing through his tunic, he started to feel sleepy and he let out a wide yawn. He had nothing else planned for today, so a nap sounded like a great idea right now. The half-gnoll leaned back against the tree, he looking out over the sun-soaked field as he slowly started to drift off to sleep.

Not soon after he drifted off, he found himself in a familiar dreamscape. It was night in a large forest, the the dark skies were filled with stars and the surrounding trees glowed with a faint magical energy. He was on a cobblestone path that lead to an ancient fountain further up ahead, sparkling water still flowing from it with dark green ivy growing over the old stone. This was a dream that he had for the past few months and it always stuck in his mind even after waking up. He always wondered if there was was some kind of significance to this place that he didn't understand.

There was a figure standing by the fountain with a mystical glow surrounding them them much like the trees of this forest that kept their features vague, so he was never able to identify what they were. The figure was there every time he found himself in this dream, spending time with them and talking about something, but by the time he woke up he could never remember the details or the words.

This time though, it was different.

The figure looked towards him and he came up the pathway and spoke; “The time is coming.” They said, speaking in an echoy, ethereal tone.

Xan gave them a confused look. “Time? What do you mean? Time for what?”

“Your time is coming, young one. Fate's path lies before you.”

He looked at them in confusion, “You keep telling me about this...'path' and the future, but I still do not understand.”

“It will become clear to you in time.” They said, stepping closer to him, “Just do not be afraid of what is to come. You have been raised well, and you will know what to do.”

Xan shook his head, “That really doesn't help comfort me really.” He admitted, “It doesn't make much sense, isn't there more you can tell me?” As he asked this, he could see that the sky was starting to change, the colors started shifting as if dawn was approaching. This was a sign that he would wake up soon.

The ethereal figured looked up as well before they spoke again. “There is little time.” They said, “I cannot tell you of what is to come for fear of changing what is meant to be.” They knelt down and took his hand in theirs. “ I can only help guide you, dear Xan'Thral. But, I believe in you.”

There was an odd sense of comfort in hearing that and he slowly nodded his head. Before he could say anymore, he found himself waking up. Xan let out a soft groan as he started to sit up, rubbing his head and looking around. It was night now, the sky was dark and there was only a little light shining from the crescent moon hanging in the sky. “Didn't expect to sleep for so long...” He said to himself; normally this wouldn't be a problem, but now he had this weird feeling he couldn't shake. “I better get going...”

He slowly started to get back to his feet, but he paused when he heard some kind of rustling nearby. Before he could get a chance to look around, something came rushing from the nearby brush and tackled him to the ground. He let out a yelp and tried to struggle, but that was when he saw a flash of metal and soon felt a blade at his throat.

“Move and you're dead, freak.”

Xan grit his teeth and was ready to fight back, but he started to hear more movement as several others emerged from their hiding spots. He was outnumbered, leaving him little choice but to stay still as the others gathered around. “I don't have anything of value...” He tried to say, but felt the blade press against his neck.

“Oh we have what we want.” The assailant said, and as if to emphasis his point, the halfling suddenly felt the cold snap of metal shackles on his ankles.

Slavers.

He felt his breath catch in his throat as he was suddenly pulled off of the ground, one of cloaked figured grabbing his arms and locked another pair of metal shackles onto his wrists. “Alright you. Move.” The thug said said, shoving Xan forward, nearly knocking him down. Chains rattled as he nearly stumbled before catching himself. He gave the group a quick glare, but he moved with them as they started to march him away from forest.

They marched for some time until they finally reached what seemed like make-shift camp. There was several wagons circled around a large central fire, Xan could see that there were several others tending to those wagons and the herd animals. Most of the slavers appeared to be human, but what surprised him was that a small number of them had pointed ears; where they elves?

“Hey boss!” One of the slavers called out. “Guess what? We got a new one!”

One of the pointy-eared figured looked over at the group and let out an audible grumble. “For Hells' sake, what is wrong with you lot?” He asked, starting to berate them. “We're already on a job! I told you we don't have the time or the space to carry on any excess baggage!”

The one thug started to sound flustered. “B-but boss, wait 'til you get a load of him!”

The elven figure seemed irritated, but he finally seemed to notice Xan and moved in for a closer look. “What is that, a sulefi? This far west?” He sounded surprised, eyeing him suspiciously.

“That's what I thought!” The thug replied, “It seemed stupid not to nab him! We could sell him off and-!”

“It was stupid to nab him, you moron! I told you how sensitive this job was!” The boss started to grumble again. “Hells, fine. Throw him into the wagon, we'll figure out what to do with him once we reach the port. But I swear, it'll be your head if this goes all wrong!”

The thug seemed satisfied with that and he pushed Xan forward again, leading him to one of the old wagons that was nearby. It was an enclosed wagon with bars on what few windows there were and a heavy beam over the door that was held in place with a large iron lock. There was a guard standing nearby, unlocking the door so the thug could push the sulefi inside. Xan stumbled again and turned as the door was slammed closed without another word, hearing the heavy lock from the other side. He grumbled, giving the door a quick ram with his shoulder before he sighed. “Great...how do I get out of this one...”

He studied the door for a moment before his ears twitched, picking up he sound of chains rattling behind him. He turned, realizing that he wasn't alone. Huddled in the far corner was another figure, looking tired and were in dirty clothing and shackles. They were filthy so it was difficult to identify them, but with the shape of their head and muzzle, he figured they must have been of some draconic heritage like a dragonborn. They watched him in the corner with remarkable blue eyes, though they were filled with fear and exhaustion.

Xan watched them for a moment before he slowly approached them, but they started to shrink back away from him. “It's okay, I'm not going to hurt you.” He said, trying to reassure them. “We're both in the same situation.” The figure didn't speak, still watching them cautiously, so he tried to be patient. “My name is Xan'Thral.” He said, “What's yours?”

The dragonborn didn't reply right away, still watching them before they spoke in a soft melodic, if not weak, tone, “Skye.”

He nodded his head and slowly knelt down near them. “How long have you been captive?”

Skye looked down, shuddering a bit. “I...I don't know.” They said, “It's been hard to keep track of time. Weeks, maybe a month now...”

Xan twitched his ears and frowned, “That long?” He shook his head; where were they planning on taking them? Something felt wrong about all of this; they only had this dragonborn, and they were holding them for nearly a month? He took in a breath, “We need to find a way out of here. I'm not going to let them keep us in here any longer.”

The dragonborn shook their head, “Even if we could get out...then what? Where could we go?”

“I was raised in these woods.” The sulefi said as he got up and started to press against the wooden walls and rapping his fist against them. “I know my way around pretty well and my home isn't far from here. ” He paused when there was the sound of some ruckus from outside. The two looked over to the door before Xan moved over, trying to look through the barred window and see what was happening.

“Check it out!” Xan could see a group of slavers outside starting to roll out some barrels while cheering and jeering each other. “C'mon everyone!”

He then heard the elf boss addressing the group. “What are you lunkheads doing?”

“We found these in our supplies!” One replied, “I didn't think we had any of this stuff left, so we're gonna crack em open! Gonna have a fun time tonight!” There was a loud crack from one of the wooden barrels, making the others cheer. “C'mon boss! I think we deserve this!”

“Hells...” The elf grumbled, “Fine, but don't complain if you get your arses kicked when we get ready to leave tomorrow!”

The group cheered and immediately started to fill their mugs.

“What's going on?” Skye asked.

“I think they're getting into some kegs of alcohol.” He replied, stepping back from the door. “If they're going to get drunk, then this may be our chance.” He moved to the back of the wagon again and started press against the wooden walls again.

The dragonborn watched him, “W-what are you doing?”

“Looking for a weak spot.” Xan said, rapping at the boards again. “This wagon looks pretty old and worn down, so there might be a chance that there's-” He paused when he rapped and heard a dull rattle. “-a weak spot.” He started to push on it, grunting a little as a part of the board started to groan and and push away from the rest of the wall. “Here! We might be able to push this out and make our escape!”

Skye looked at him, the expression on their face a bit hard to read. “Do...do you really think we can?”

Xan pushed on the board a little more, gauging the gap he was able to make before he relaxed. “It's dangerous, but it's better to try than waiting and letting them sell us off.” He sighed and slowly lowered himself down to sit, “We just have to wait a little while for the drink to start working on them.”

They let out a soft sigh and looked down, “It's...it's been this long already. Can wait a little longer...”

Xan looked at them, swallowing hard as he tried to keep himself calm. “Where do you come from?” He asked, hoping to keep heir minds occupied as they waited.

Skye looked down, shivering a little under their tattered robes. “I lived towards the east...” They started slowly, “I was...with a group, on our way to Alexandria. That was...was where I was hoping to...to start my study and training.”

“Alexandria?” Xan replied, “That's where the great library is?”

They nodded again, “The largest in the land, and where one of the magi guilds is said to be located.” They shook hard again. “I...we were on our way there, but...when we stopped at another town...I...I was separated from the others...and...and...”

The sulefi nodded his head slowly. “It's okay, I understand.” He let out a soft sigh, “What about the others you were with? Do you know what happened to them or if they're looking for you?”

“I don't...I don't know.” Skye's voice was starting to tremble. “They have to be looking for me, but these...slavers must be clever.” Xan could hear their voice crack a little as they started to tear up. “I know that they must have tried to rescue me, but...but I'm afraid something may have happened...”

Xan looked over to them, really starting to feel sad and concerned for them. “Hey, don't you worry.” He said, trying to reassure them. “I...I'll get you out of here, and after that we can try and find them.”

Skye was quiet for a long while. “Why?” The finally asked; taking Xan off guard. “Why would you help me like this? We don't even know each other.”

“Because I don't like seeing others in pain or in trouble.” He said, “I'm certainly not going to leave you here all alone, and I'm not going to abandon you after this.”

They sniffed, looking down for a moment. “I have no way to reward you...”

He shook his head, “Don't you worry about that. Let's focus on our escape.”

The wait was unbearable; the two sat there in silence, but Xan kept watching and listening to the activity outside. It didn't seem like it took very long though before he could pick up the rather familiar sounds of drunken activity as there was loud and slurred talking, boisterous laughter and the occasional crash.

“This may be our best chance.” He said and he moved to the back of the wagon and started to press on the weakened board, the lower portion starting to pushed away from the base.

Skye watched with a look of concern. “What about our chains? They'll slow us down.”

“They will, but-” Xan grunted as he pushed harder, “-they will be too drunk to notice. We'll be long gone by the time they notice.”

The dragonborn still seemed worried, but they slowly got up on shaky legs, moving closer and started to push with him. Xan could tell that they were weak, but they were both feeling anxious to escape and they put in all the strength they could muster. The board groaned as they pushed, more and more space being made until there was the soft cracking of wood as old nails were pulled away. They gave it a few more rough pushes and soon the section of the wagon fell away.

Xan hopped down first, waiting to hear if there was any reaction from the slavers before he helped Skye down next. He was still being cautious, waiting for a few extra moments before the two started to rush towards the forest, using the wagon as cover as much as they could. The forest edge felt like it was miles away and Xan could hear Skye struggling to keep up, the chains rattling enough that they were afraid the slavers would catch them at any moment.

Finally, they reached the treeline, but the dragonborn's breathing was heavy and ragged now. “I...I don't...I don't think I...”

“Don't worry, you're doing good.” Xan said, panting a little himself. “We're have cover now, we can-” He stopped and both turned back as they suddenly started to hear shouting, seeing the dark figures starting to run around in a commotion. “Dammit, they must have realized we escaped! We gotta go!”

Skye whimpered and tried to push forward, but they stumbled and fell to their knees. “I c-can't...”

Without a second though, Xan reached down and lifted them off of the ground; shocked to discover how light they actually were, and rushed into the forest. “Hang on, we'll loose them in the woods.”

The sulefi moved as fast as he could; me may have known his way around, but rushing in the dark and fighting against the hobbling chains made that much more difficult. He didn't stop though; he was confident that they would loose them if they kept moving.

Or so he thought. His ears perked up when he heard some rough stumbling behind him. He stopped and turned to see that, somehow, the elf leader was following them, and had caught up. He was breathing quite heavily from his rushing and had a sword drawn, though he held it and himself up awkwardly, showing that he was affected by the night's drinking. “You little sssonavabastard-!” He growled out, sloven eyes narrowed as he glared at the two. “I knew you'd be trouble! There ish no way in the nine hellsh I'm going to let you get away with our prize here!”

Xan glared back at the slaver, hearing a faint whimper escape from the shaking Skye. “There's no way you're going to take either of us back!” He shouted firmly.

The slaver laughed. “Fancy yourselfsh a hero, boy? I'm gonna knock that 'hero' right out of you right here!”

Xan stood his ground, but he didn't like his chances. Even though the elf was inebriated, he had to try and protect Skye and fight while still in chains. The elf made a clumsy advance and the sulefi was able to move around him easily, giving him a moment so he could quickly lowered Skye down by a tree. He then turned in time to see the the slaver move on him again, swinging his blade out. Xan raised his arms up, this time using his shackles to his advantage and used the metal to deflect the blow away. He then quickly raised his arms up, slamming his fists up against the elf's jaw and staggering him backwards.

“You damn mongrel! I'm going to put you down for good!” The elf yelled out, swinging and stabbing his sword, but Xan was able to deflect most of the blows, feeling the blade nick and cut at his arms as he tried keep himself between the slaver and Skye, keeping him away. Despite his best attempts, the chains on his legs would yank and catch, causing the sulefi to loose his balance and fall to his knees. The slaver saw this as his chance and he raised his sword up, ready to bring it down on his head., but Xan quickly raised his arms up, catching the blade against the chain. He quickly wrapped it around the weapon and yanked the elf down just as he pushed himself forward, tackling into him to the ground and sending the sword flying away.

The two struggled and scrambled to get back up, Xan keeping himself in front of Skye while the elf got back to his feet, the fight and adrenaline making him more focused now. “You damn little bastard! I'm going to make both of you suffer for this!”

Xan tensed up and readied himself for the next attack, but he hesitated when he saw a cloaked form appear behind the elf. “What the-?” Before the elf realized what had happened, he suddenly realized the newcomer was there and felt a blade press up against his back. “Who the hell-?!”

“I'm the one that will be taking these two away from you.” The newcomer said, “If you value your life, then I suggest you stumble your way back to your friends and forget about all of this.”

The elf sneered, “You must be out of your damn mind!” He said, then gasped as he felt the blade press in.

“I won't warn you again.” The figure threatened, “Don't push your luck.

“You're already pressing yours!” The elf spat out, “If you try and take the freak away, it won't be just us that will come after you! There are plenty of others who are looking!”

“I'll take my chances.” The figure said, “What about you?”

The elf responded by quickly turning around, pulling his arm back ready to strike, but the cloaked figure was faster. He struck the elf in the head with the pommel of the sword, knocking him to the ground like a sack of flour.

Xan had quietly moved back towards Skye, staying next to them as he watched the scene play out. The cloaked figure sheathed his blade and then turned towards the two before slowly approaching. “Don't worry, I'm here to help.” He said, holding his arms out in a nonthreatening gesture. “In fact, I owe you my gratitude.”

The sulefi watched him warily, “How can I be sure of that?” Xan said; he wasn't so sure, but then he noticed Skye's ears twitching as they finally heard the voice. “G-Gareth...?” They asked weakly, lifting their head up, “Is that really you?”

The figure nodded, reaching up to pull his hood back, revealing a dark-skinned human. “It's me, Skylar. We've come back for you.”

Xan turned as he heard them gasp out, “Do you know him?”

Skye nodded. “He's one of my companions I told you about-!” They tried to push themselves up, Xan helping them back to their feet. “Are the others here too...?”

“Aye, we're all here!” A new voice spoke up as two others soon came to view; a dwarf in chainmail armor and a taller elf maiden in simple traveler's robes. “It took far too long to reach you,” The maiden said, “But we're here now.”

The dark-skinned human turned his head to the newcomers, “Is everything alright?”

The dwarf let out a hearty laugh. “Oh aye, just had to deal with the scum that was still willin' to fight. They b' feelin' that mistake in the morning!”

Gareth nodded and then turned to the other two. “We've been trying to catch up with this caravan for weeks. We had planned to ambush the slavers and rescue you, but...it seems like your new friend here worked faster than we could.” He turned to look at Xan directly, “We owe you our thanks for your help.”

Xan didn't say anything right away, he could feel Skye trembling in his hold before they took a few steps forward, embracing the human as much as the chains would allow. Gareth himself was speechless, embracing them for a quiet moment. “I'm sorry we didn't come sooner.”

“You still came...” Skye said, starting to sniff. “I was so worried...”

The human nodded, “Let's get you away from here.” He gently lifted them into his arms, then looked to the sulefi. “Come with us, we can get those chains off of you and offer you a place to rest.”

Xan was quiet, but he nodded at the human's offer. “Thank you...I would appreciate the help.” He said, finally starting relax.

“It's th' least we can do, mah boi!” The dwarf said with a smile, marching up along with them. “Let's out some distance between us and that scum!”

The group started to move deeper into the woods, and eventually Xan could hear a creek running nearby, giving him a pretty good idea of where they were now. It took some time, but soon they arrived at a small camp with two tents and unlit fire pit. The human sat Skye down and quickly started to work on the removing the shackles with his lockpicks, while the dwarf hurried over and started to pitch the tents up and the elf went to build up a fire up using some of her magic. Xan stood there, feeling a little awkward as he watched the human work.

“So what's yer name?”

The sulefi twitched and blinked, turning his attention to the dwarf as he approached. “Oh, uhm, it's Xan'Thral. Most just call me Xan.”

“Well met then Xan!” The dwarf said, “I'm Heldric of the Homeguard clan. My companions here are Gareth Ranger and Lady Vanya.” Despite his shorter height, the dwarf slapped a hand onto Xan's back and lead him closer to the fire. “Here, looks like ye've been injured, lemme take care of that fer ye.” The sulefi thanked him, but was a little surprised as the dwarf touched his arms and started to say something in his native dwarven language. There was a gentle glow forming around his hands and there was a gentle, soothing feeling washing over him. He looked down seeing the slashes and cuts on his arms were completely healed. “You're a cleric.”

Heldric laughed. “Aye, follower of the great Forge and Hearth Watcher himself!”

There were several quiet snaps as Gareth unlocked the shackles from the dragonborn and tossed them aside. “Vanya, can you tend to Skye while I help our guest?”

“Of course.” The elf nodded and went over, gathering some food and cups while the human moved next to Xan and started to work on lockpicking his shackles next. “So how did you get caught up with those slavers?”

Xan's ears twitched and he shrugged gently. “Honestly, it was complete chance. I live in these woods not far from here, and I was just out before I was ambushed. They jumped me, chained me up and immediately took me back to their camp.”

Gareth sighed, “This group seem to be better trained than others we've encountered. They've been rather brave operating this far inland, it's been worrisome how effectively they're working as well.”

“Did the same happen to you?” Xan asked.

Heldric scoffed, “Not exactly, lad. We were on our way t' Alexandria and we stopped in the town of Bethal. Skye went off t' do some shoppin' as we were preparin' to leave, but that was when we found out that they'd been taken.”

“We managed to catch one of the slavers, and he was quick to spill what he knew.” Gareth said, “They were hired to go after them and only them. We were meant to protect them, but we had no idea there was some kind of plot, nor that a group like this would work so quickly and so well in a crowded town like Bethal.”

Xan slowly nodded his head, “I admit...they didn't seem like normal slavers, at least from what I've heard.” He twitched an ear, “The boss seemed really upset that others captured me.”

“Aye, whoever hired 'em had eyes only on our Skye 'ere.” Heldric huffed and crossed his arms across his chest. “We thought we coulda rescued 'em right away, but they moved too quickly. Took us days to get a lead and we've been tailin' them ever since.”

“We had formed a rescue plan,” Gareth continued. “We planted the ale kegs in their supplies and waited for them to get drunk before we moved in. Dealing with them was a lot easier that way, but that was when we discovered you had already broken out and took Skye with you.” He looked up at him, “You really did us a great service, and we owe you a debt of gratitude.”

The dwarf let out a laugh, “Aye! Whether it be luck or fate, ye were in th' right place at th' time!”

Xan twitched his ears at that, thinking back on the dream. “Yeah...yeah I suppose so.”

With a final click, Gareth was able to unlock the final shackle, tossing them aside as well before he got up. “The least we can do for you is let you stay with us, give you a good meal and a bed for the night.”

Xan nodded, as he rubbed his wrists. “Thank you again for that, I am rather hesitant to go off this late after everything.” He looked over to Vanya and Skye; the dragonborn had been rather quiet all this time, and it appeared they had fallen asleep. Vanya motioned for Gareth and he went over, lifting them up and taking them to one of the tents. “I still find it strange,” Xan said, “Do you have any idea why Skye was the only one they wanted?”

Heldric was quiet, going over to their supplies and started to dig through, as Vanya answered. “As you may have noticed, Skylar is unique for a dragonborn. They are not physically strong like many of their race, but they do seem to have an amazing affinity for the arcane. This is only an assumption on my part, but someone must have learned of this and want them for some unknown purpose.”

“Best guess we have at the moment.” Heldric said, setting up a cooking rig over the fire before passing a waterskin to Xan. “What about you lad? Y' said you live around 'ere, but what is a sulefi livin' all the way out here?”

Xan took drink, hesitant to answer. “My parents made a home out here after...” He paused. “My parents were forced into a slave army by the Dark Forces many years ago.”

“The Na'Daar?” Vanya said, quirking an eyebrow. “I see.”

Xan nodded, “They didn't tell me much, but they told me plenty stories about how they and the others rebelled against the soldiers, actually forming a group of resistance fighters before the war ended. I've lived here for most of my life.” He looked down, “After their...passing, I had thought of maybe going off on my own, travel and maybe find one of the other gnoll or sulefi tribes, but I've been hesitant.”

“Aaaah aye, I understand.” Heldric nodded his head, “I know I was a wee hesitant t' leave my home, but the call to adventure is hard to ignore.” He laughed, “And I am glad t' have met my compatriots here!”

Gareth finally stepped out of the tent and approached the fire. “Skye's asleep.” He said, “Heldric, can you look them over and see if they need any healing?”

The dwarf nodded, “I will, but I dun think there's much I can do. Just needs some good rest and good food, build up that strength again.”

“I would agree.” Vanya said, “It would be wise to head for the nearest town so we can resupply and give Skye a chance to recover. We can also send word to Alexandria and let them know of our status.”

Xan was quietly listening in before he spoke up. “The closest town from here I think is Fire Waters, to the west.”

“I don't think a detour would do us any harm.” Vanya said, supporting the idea. “They need the chance to rest as do we all.”

“It would mean going in the wrong direction for us.” Gareth said, “But, I have to agree. I think we all could use the rest.” Before anymore could be said, the human stood up and turned his attention to the sulefi, “Speaking of, we only have the two tents, but the three of us will be taking on a rotating watch, so you're free to take the other tent and get some rest. We'll be ready to head out in the morning.”

The group shared a small meal, and soon Xan decided that he would turn in, taking one of the bed rolls inside the tent and laid down. He was finding it difficult to rest though; it had been a long day and he had so many thoughts running through his mind. The abduction had actually spooked him, but now finding himself with these adventurers, it was hard to shake this strange feeling, especially when he thought back on the dream. It couldn't have been a coincidence...could it?

It took some time, but he did eventually fall to sleep, but he would find himself back in the familiar dreamscape. He stood next to the aging fountain, and the mysterious figure stood nearby, gazing into the sky. “The time is here.”

Xan looked at them, twitching his ears. “So was I meant to meet Skye and the others like ?” He asked, “Is this what you meant about my fate?” He started to frown a little, “But now what? Is this all I was supposed to do? Or...or is there more I should do?”

The figure slowly turned to look at him, “You are now on the path Fate intended, but it is now your choice to follow it.”

“My choice?” Xan seemed a little surprise by that wording. “If this is Fate, then...how can I have a choice?”

The figure walked over to the sulefi as the sky started to change with the approaching dawn. “You always have a choice.” They said, kneeling down to look at him. “A path has been laid out for you, but you are the only one that can decide to take it. Choose what you feel is right.”

Before he could ask any more, Xan started to wake up and found himself inside the tent alone. It was mostly dark out, but the area was starting to lighten up up as dawn approached. He sat up and rubbed his head, the words from the dream echoing in his mind. “Choose what feels right...” He really wasn't sure what to make of it, but he didn't have a chance to give it much thought when his ears twitched a the sound of voices outside: it was Gareth and Heldric. He slowly got to his feet, quietly listening in on their discussion.

“I'm still not so sure on this.” Gareth said.

“It'll only be a few days travel.” Heldric said.

“But that's using the main road. If those slavers do try to find us, we'll be easily spotted there.”

Heldric huffed, “If they try to find us, but they'd have t' be pretty daft to try. Especially all the way there.”

“Maybe, but we thought we were safe in Bethal too.”

Heldric let out a sigh, “Aye, I'll give ya that. But I don't think Skye'll do well takin' a longer route either. I think we'd be better off takin' the fastest route as possible.”

Xan started to frown with worry. He was certainly concerned for all of them and was starting to wish there was something he could do to help. There wasn't much, but that was when a thought came to him and he stepped out.

The two turned to him as he emerged. “Ah, g'morning Xan.” Heldric greeted. “Didn' mean to wake ya yet.”

“It's okay, I was awake already.” The sulefi said, “I did catch some of what you were talking about, and if you're worried about any more trouble on your trip, I'd be more than willing to help out.”

The two looked at him curiously. “Oh aye? Well, won't mind any advice or direction ye can give us, lad.”

Xan twitched his ears, “Actually, I was thinking that I could help more directly and travel with you to Fire Waters.”

That surprised the two and Heldric let out a soft laugh. “Oh aye? That's a generous offer, lad-”

“But it's too dangerous.” Gareth said, interrupting the dwarf. “We won't endanger a stranger in this.”

Xan frowned at that and crossed his arms over his chest. “I've already been pulled into this once, so I know of some of the dangers, but I do actually have some martial training, so I can at least offer another arm to help you out.”

Gareth couldn't reply as Heldric let out a laugh and nodded his head. “Well then! I dun think adding a new member t' our group would hurt, but are ye sure you want t' do that? After Fire Waters, we'll be headed for Alexandria.”

The sulefi nodded his head, “I'm sure. I've been thinking about going off on my own already, and I think traveling with you to help out would be a good reason to do so.”

Heldric nodded, stepping over to him and clapping a hand on his shoulder. “Well I certainly welcome a good arm t' the party! Whaddya say, Gareth?”

The ranger seemed a little loss for words. “What about your family or friends?”

Xan shook his head, “I live alone here, so all I'd need to do is gather my gear back at my house and make sure everything is secured before leaving.”

The human sighed, “I'd want to ask Vanya before we decide.”

“I think it would be a good idea.” The elf replied, returning to the group from the direction of the creek. “He's already proven his skill and bravery, and I have no doubt that he would be quite the fighter unfettered.”

Gareth let out a soft sigh. “Alright...if you're sure.”

Xan smiled a little and nodded before he turned to the elf. “How is Skye?”

“Doing much better, I would say.” She replied before stepping to the side. Xan realized that the dragonborn was behind her, and he was taken aback when he saw them. Skye had the chance to get cleaned up and was dressed in proper travelers robes, revealing gleaming white scales and soft blue fur, matching their already brilliant blue eyes. Suddenly their name took on a whole new meaning.

“Oh wow...” Xan said quietly, looking at them until his eyes met with theirs and he quickly turned his gaze down for a moment. “Uhm, you look so much better now.” He said, sounding a little embarrassed.

Skye smiled a little and nodded. “Thank you. I certainly feel better now...” They paused and looked at the others, “...thanks to all of you.”

Heldric smiled and laughed, “Aye! Now we're all back t'gether!”

“We best hurry and break camp.” Gareth said, “Will you be able to find your way back to your home from here?”

“It'll be easy.” Xan said, nodding his head. “I have a pretty good idea of where we are now.”

“Good, once you're ready, then we can make our way to Fire Waters.”

Skye twitched their ears and looked towards him. “You're coming with us?”

Xan nodded, “The other seem to be okay with the idea. I would like to help you out, if you'd have me.”

They looked at him and a faint smile started to appear. “I...I'm happy to hear that!” They said, twitching their tail behind them, “I...uh...I do...I do owe you for your help.”

Xan laughed a little, pausing as the others started to tear down the campsite. “It's nothing, really. I just...if there is any trouble, then I want to be there as well.”

Once the group had packed up their supplies, Xan took the lead and started to lead them through the forest. The forest started to feel much friendlier as the sun rose into the sky, brightening the sky and chasing away the early morning mist, and by mid-morning, the group soon reached a large tree. It seemed strange at first, but as they got closer they could see that the halfling's home was actually built into the tree: windows inlaid in the sides of the tree, and a staircase of old stone leading up to a heavy wooden door in the 'front' of the house.

“This is amazing!” Skye said as they looked around the structure. “This is where you live?”

Xan nodded, “Yeah, this is it.” He said, smiling back at the group a little. “My parents built this decades ago after the war with the Dark Forces ended. I'm not sure how they did it honestly, cause the tree is still alive, changes with the seasons and everything.”

Vanya looked around, slowly nodding her head as if in approval. “Very impressive, I must say.”

Skye watched the sulefi curiously, “Your parents were involved in the Na'Daar war? That was over thirty years ago, how did they survive? Why did they decide to move out here?”

Xan rubbed his head, “Uhm...to be honest, I don't know all of the details. The liked to tell me stories when I was young, but I don't know how much of it was accurate. They did tell me that they were part of a revolt against their masters, defeating them and forming a resistance group that ended up defending an outpost for months until the war's end. After that, they wanted to live someplace quiet. I don't remember who actually helped build our home, but when I was little I just kind of assumed they did it all themselves.”

“It is really amazing.” Skye said as they walked up next to him, looking over the tree home. “There wouldn't be any trouble with you leaving?”

The sulefi went quiet for a moment, “Actually, I...live alone now actually. They passed some years back.”

They twitched and looked down, “O-oh, I see. I'm sorry.”

“It's okay.” Xan said, giving them that reassuring smile. “Honestly, that's one reason why I've thought about leaving on my own and travel. It's just...something always stopped me.” His thoughts lingered back to the dream for a moment, “But now...helping you guys out seems like good enough reason as any.” He walked up to the door and pushed it open, “You're welcome to come inside, I shouldn't be long, just need to grab my gear and whatever supplies I can scrounge up.”

“Kind of ya, lad.” Heldric said, “But we wouldn' want to intrude. Best make haste.”

Xan nodded and hurried inside. He wanted to be quick, but there was no denying that he was actually feeling scared now. This was it, he was really planning on leaving and the reality was starting to sink in. It was terrifying, but he had to reassure himself that this was what he wanted to do. Maybe even needed to do. He went through his stores and gathered up whatever supplies felt he could use before heading upstairs to his room and collected his equipment. When he was certain that he had everything he needed, he finally stepped back outside. The group was patiently waiting and they turned, seemingly surprised to see the young sulefi now dressed in a set of scale mail and a polished halberd in his hand.

“Oh wow.” Skye said, “You...really look like a proper adventurer now.”

“Aye.” Heldric said, a slight chuckle in his voice. “I musta admit, didn't think ye'd be quite this well prepared, eh?” He smirked and looked over to Gareth; who must have had similar thoughts.

Xan looked a little embarrassed, but he let out a small laugh. “Thank you? The armor and halberd belonged to my parents.” He said, taking time to close everything up; locking the doors and shuttering the windows. “They must have been concerned about me after what happened to them, so they took the time to train me while I was growing up. I've only ever needed to really fight on rare occasions, but...they've come in handy.”

The dwarf laughed, “Aye! Well, hope ye didn' go rusty, ma boy. Who knows what we might come across next!”

He nodded his head, “I think I'll be okay. I'll try my best.”

“Sounds good!” Heldric nodded before address the others, “Then shall we?”

“Yes, let's get going.” Gareth nodded and turned, starting to head off with the others. Xan started after them, but he hesitated. He turned back to look at his home, taking in the sight for one more moment. “Path lies before me.” He said to himself, “I hope the path will lead me back here.”

The trip turned out to be much more peaceful than the party had expected. There was some tension at first, they all expected to see the slavers coming after them or ready to ambush them on the main road, but the only people they came across was other travelers and caravans. They seemed to be in the clear and the group relaxed enough to enjoy the rest of the journey.

Xan was able to learn more about the others: Gareth was a human who grew up near the capital of Storm Waters before venturing off to join and train with a group that patrolled the forest area known as the Firelight Forest in the east. Heldric was a dwarven cleric who's clan made many trips out from the Snow Iron Mountains to provide humanitarian aid to smaller camps and towns who were working on the construction of the 'Great Tunnel' project. Vanya was a high elf mage from an arcane family living in the city of Syll Shaeras, it was her family that were asked to assist the Razor Wing dragonborn clan that Skye had come from. It was all really fascinating to learn, but Xan had this weird feeling that there was more to this that the three weren't saying, but it may have just been his imagination.

It was late afternoon of the fourth day when the party could finally see the port city of Fire Waters ahead of them. It was the largest settlement that the sulefi had seen: sitting on the coast with hundreds of stone and wooden buildings with the ocean stretching out beyond. There was quite a few wooden docks, many of them with ships of all shapes and sizes docked alongside. A large defensive wall was built on the city's east side facing inland with the only way inside through a wide gate that was standing open, guarded by two towers and several armed guards watching travelers move in and out.

The guards did stop the party, but this was more of a formality and they were allowed to pass through without incident, and Xan got his first look at the large city. “I've never seen a place like this before.” He finally said as they walked through the town proper.

“Aye! It is an impressive place fer sure!” Heldric agreed, though he was giving many of the buildings a critical eye. “Mostly human architecture, but I'm sure they had some dwarven help 'round here!”

The group went straight for an inn called the Fireside Tavern to get lodgings for their time here. Xan could tell there was an immediate sense of relief from the others as they dropped off their gear and got to settle in after such a long time. Xan was getting his own gear put away when he realized that Skye was standing nearby and silently watching him. He looked over to them, “How are you feeling?” He asked.

Skye smiled, “Relieved to be back in civilization after so long...” They said, “It's a little...intimidating though, given what happened last time I was in a town.”

Xan nodded, “I can understand that, but there won't be any surprises like that again. I'll be sure of that.”

“I hope so, but that does sound reassuring.” They smiled, but hesitated, looking like they wanted to say some more. Finally, after Xan had finished stowing his gear, they spoke up again. “Have you ever wondered why they call this place 'Fire Waters'?”

“Actually, I don't think so?” He replied; it seemed strange to be asked that out of the blue. “I never gave it any thought, but now that you bring it up...”

Skye smiled wide at that and walked over to him, taking his hand. “Come on then!” They said, sounding excited, “Let's go up to the roof and watch!”

Xan blinked in confusion, but he followed as they headed for the roof of the inn. The rooftop was setup like a small social area where several others were gathered as well. As Skye lead them over to a free spot at the edge, Xan started to understand; they had a perfect view of the ocean as the sun was starting to set. The sun slowly started to sink in the horizon, and as it neared the water, the ocean's blue color burst into an array of warm colors. A display of reds, oranges and yellows spread out and danced on the rippling waves as the sky above also changed colors, blazing orange and red and softly fading to purple and dark blue of the approaching night. It was as if the whole ocean was on fire.

Skye was quiet, watching the scene before them. “I've always wanted to see this...” They said quietly, “I've been told all about this, but seeing it for myself amazing.” Their gaze dropped a little, “I may never have gotten to see this if it wasn't for you.”

Xan turned to them, watching as the sunset turned their white and blue fur the same blazing colors as the ocean. “I'm happy I was able to help you see this.”

Skye turned to them and smiled back before the two turned back. They were quiet, but Xan was surprised when he felt how close Skye had gotten to him, resting their head on his shoulder. The sulefi smiled and stayed still so he didn't disturb them, watching the fire slowly sink into the ocean. “I don't know if this is the path Fate intended for me...” Xan said to himself, “but I am glad to be on it. And I'll stay on it as long as I can.”

#bahamut writing #a sulefi's tale #xan #skye #gareth #heldric #vanya #fantasy

3 notes · View notes

avaxjames · 4 years

Text

changed

When: September 5th Where: The Royal Palace {Ian’s room} Who: Ava James and @octavianvallas Notes: Octavian finally turns Ava into a vampire

Ava: To say she was nervous was...an understatement. But the last few weeks with Ian had been wonderful. A vacation that was something out of a dream, getting to spend time with him...almost as equals instead of a slave and her master. It was nice. And hopefully, it'd remain that way for a long, long time to come. She was still a bit worried about losing her place in his life--as his pet, as the one who took care of him day in and day out, but she had to trust him and take his word for it that he wouldn't let that happen. Sure he couldn't feed on her anymore for sustenance but....other than that, everything should stay the same, right? That's what she had to keep telling herself as she finished up her last real meal, the servants in the kitchen pretty much making her everything, and with a full belly and nervous butterflies fluttering through her, she walked back into Octavian's room, giving him a nervous little smile as she walked over to where he was seated at his desk, poured over papers as he had been since they'd gotten back.

Octavian As much as he hated work, Octavian had been stuck in his office basically since he came back. He wasn’t even available to attend his own event, too concerned with fixing everything that Kanopia had burnt down in his absence. He thought he could trust Kanopia to at least maintain the kingdom while on her power trip, but apparently that was too much. He hadn’t even noticed what time it was when the door suddenly open and Ava entered. He didn’t acknowledge her, knowing she would make herself comfortable regardless. After finishing up his sentence, he finally looked away from the papers and up at his pet, a charming smile on his face despite his unkempt appearance. He had neglected his usual routine in favour of being more comfortable as it worked. “Is it time already?” he asked, pushing his chair out and patting his lap so that she could take a seat on it. He pressed a kiss to his temple before pressing a button on his phone and telling the doctors to start preparing in his room. “Are you ready?” he asked.

Ava: Ava had braided her hair back from her face, wore a simple little white cotton gown and she kept toying with her collar, thumbing over it, wanting to keep it on for long after this. Her hand only dropped from her neck as she came over to where Ian was and her fingers instead moved to his hair, running her fingers through his curls as she gave him a smile. "If you're ready?" She moved to sit on his lap, knowing he could hear the nervous flutter of her heart as she leaned against him. "..Will it hurt?" she asked softly, biting her lip. "How um...how long does it usually take?" She hadn't thought of the finer details til now.

Octavian Octavian didn’t even bother to warn her, instead, he simply picked her up and carried her out of his office. “It will feel slightly uncomfortable for a few hours. I’ve been told it feels like having a bad fever,” he explained. “But it’ll be the last fever you’ll ever have,” he reassured, pressing a kiss to her forehead. “It might take all night so I want you to try to fall asleep, okay? Don’t worry about anything else.” By the time they arrived in his bedroom, the doctors were in place and ready. “Only a hundred years ago, this process was much more gruesome and unpleasant, but blood transfusions are far more efficient these days.” He placed Ava gently on the bed and took a seat beside her before gesturing for the doctors to start. The needle was first inserted into his artery before they moved on to Ava’s. He held her hand tightly in his own. “Relax,” he ordered.

Ava: Ava let out a surprised noise as he lifted her and brought her to his room. Her heart skipped again when she saw doctors there, saw syringes and IV's and she swallowed, biting her lip. "A fever.." she mumbled, nodding jerkily before she let out a nervous little laugh, "You really think I'll be able to sleep?" she countered, raising a brow at him. When he mentioned years ago...admittedly it's how she expected it to be. She thought he'd bite her, or just force her to feed from him. Not something so...simple. Efficient. She watched them slip the needle into Octavian's arm after she was laid down and as he gripped her hand she laced her fingers through his, biting her lip as she extended out her other arm for the doctor to prep. "Promise me again that..my spot in your life won't really change? I..--that I'll still belong to you?" That she wouldn't be cast off in a couple months and left on her own for....years. Centuries.

Octavian Octavian chuckled at her words. It was definitely a bit too late for regrets and second-guessing now. The King had become much too fond of the idea of Ava being a vampire. It would make things easier. “If I was going to cast you away, I would not go through all this trouble.” He cupped her cheek and met her eyes. “You’re mine and you will stay that way.” His eyes flickered down to her collar. “And that is staying on.” He got himself comfortable, wrapping his arms around her shoulder so she could lean into him. The doctors waited for his nod to turn the machine on and blood was soon drawn out of his body and traveling to hers. “You can all leave now,” he ordered, dismissing the other people in the room once everything was set. Octavian was comfortable like this and wanted Ava to relax instead of focusing on all the people watching.

Ava "I know.." she mumbled quietly, but she still couldn't help her nerves, her fear of the unknown. But she trusted him, she loved him. So...she had to take his word for it. She met his eyes as he cupped her cheeks, looking up at him and giving a little smile as he motioned to her collar, "Okay." When he settled down in the bed and wrapped his arm around her she immediately cuddled in against him, knowing there would be no way she'd relax, no way to stop her heart from pounding (especially surrounded by strangers), so instead she just tried to focus on him, shuffling enough to press her ear over his heart, its beat strong and steady. "How will you know? ...Once it's..done?"

Octavian Octavian didn’t really know how to answer her question. “I know when you tell me you feel it. Your senses will change, your body will grow stronger... you will know.” Octavian’s knowledge only really came in afterwards. He could tell her all she wanted to know about being a vampire but he knew nothing of being a human. This transition was in between and only knowable to those who went through it. The machine continued to beep beside them as more of his blood was drawn. He could feel his arm beginning to tighten up a bit and he knew that he had given her enough blood. Still, he didn’t want to risk it so he waited, content to run his fingers through her hair. “We’ll always be connected from now on, Ava.” After a few more minutes, he pulled out the needles and readjusted them both so they could get more comfortable.

“Try to sleep now,” he ordered, placing a kiss against the crown of her head.

Ava Ava bit her lip, thinking about it before she finally nodded, figuring that was as good an answer as she was going to get- especially since she already felt a little....off. A little warmer. "And you're not gonna regret it right? Being stuck with me for..at least a couple years?" she asked, trying to crack a joke and smile, to relieve some of her own stress. She shifted a bit against him, nuzzling in more as she tried not to focus on the constant beep of the machine beside her, how Ian's blood was transfusing into her in time with the way his fingers moved through her hair. She stayed quiet until he leaned over to turn off the machine, swallowing as he carefully pulled the needle out her arm. "Easier said than done, Your Majesty."

Octavian Octavian chuckled. He couldn’t blame her for not being able to. It was a lot to process and there had to be some level of excitement to it too. “Would you like me to make you?” he offered, his eyes blackening. He had never used his powers on her before (since he didn’t need to) but he figured this would be for a good cause—to get her through the first few uncomfortable hours. “You’ll fall asleep and wake up in the morning as a vampire. Or we can do something else to distract you.” Regardless, there was definitely no going back now.

Ava Ava swallowed as she saw his eyes go black, thought about his offer. "Have you...ever done that to me before?" she wondered aloud before shaking her head. "Not yet..please. Just--give me a few more minutes?" for all intents and purposes, it was the end of her life after all, she didn't want to fall asleep just yet. Instead she took in a long, deep breath, committing everything she could to memory. No longer strung up to wires, Ava shifted onto her side and curled up against him, draping her arm over him. "What was life like before..everything? A hundred years ago." she figured maybe just talking about random things would help relax her more, maybe lull her off. "Or...a thousand years ago. You were around then, right?"

Octavian Octavian shook his head before a small smile graced his lips. “I’ve never had to. You’re my good girl.” Whether it was fear, her internal need to please, or love, Ava had always been well-behaved and rarely had to be asked twice to do something. He doubted that would change even after her transition. At her question, Octavian’s eyes went to the ceiling, feeling a bit further away. “It was.. not much different from now.” The centuries blurred together for him and after the first ten, they were even less distinguishable. “I remember the thrill of hunting... There was need to keep things secret so we had to be careful and it was fun because of it. Vampires were a myth that parents would tell their children.” He sighed. “Instead of ruling over infrastructure and everything else that comes from running a kingdom, Kanopia and I would just have to rule over the vampires. Our primary duty was to resolve conflicts between our kind or handle those that broke the laws.” Ruling used to be fun because the humans could worry about their own issues. Now Ian had to manage everything.

Ava Honestly, Ava felt a little relieved that not only had he never done it, but he never felt the need to. It was just another bit of proof that he trusted her—and it was another thing to helped her breathe more easily, to feel a little less nervous. She noticed a little change in him then, how he looked away, got a bit…distant in his gaze, his voice. She licked over her lips, quiet, patiently waiting til he spoke. The idea of vampires not being in charge…of being hidden off, not in power was..odd for her. It’s all she’s ever known after all. She’d heard stories of course, passed down from her parents, from others she’d met in her life, but she figured the tone and the stories were different from humans to vampires.

“Hunting…humans?” she figured it went without saying but.. still. “There’s some vampires who don’t feed directly from people though, right? Would that…--could I…maybe do that?” She didn’t want to slip up, hurt someone…kill someone.. “What kinds of laws do you…--would I have?” it’d be a whole new way of life after all. His voice was still wistful though and she tilted her head to lean her chin on his chest, knowing her face was already a bit pink as she felt more and more warmth spreading through her, not uncomfortable yet but….definitely there. “Have you ever thought about abdicating? Just…up and leaving? You seemed to like the beach on vacation…I’m sure you could find some nice secluded one to hide away at.”

Octavian “There has not been a day that has gone by in the past few decades that I have not thought about abdicating, angel,” Octavian confessed, hoping she understood that this conversation, especially, had to remain private. He didn’t want anyone knowing how much he absolutely was ready to give up the crown and take a step back. In a way, it was a weakness and one that others might exploit. “It would be easy enough for me to disappear. No one would be able to stop me.” Even Kanopia couldn’t if he planned things well enough. Nevertheless, he never got that far. “It is not an option though. Not as long as people are still relying on me. You’ve seen what happens when I leave the Queen in charge.” Octavian had barely had any leisure time since he returned. Hoping to take the conversation away from something so personal, the King considered her question from before. “Some vampires don’t feed directly from humans,” he confirmed, “but I don’t think you will be one of them.” He didn’t want to disappoint her but it would be difficult for an ex-human to survive on a purely packaged blood diet. “The vampires who do that have trained themselves to resist feeding off of humans and are able to control themselves. If you don’t feed from the vein, you may never learn how to control yourself,” he explained. He chuckled, “I imagine it’s like being fed frozen meals all the time and then being presented with something freshly prepared.” The temptation would be too strong. “If you’ve only fed from bags and you’re exposed to any human bleeding, you may end up doing more harm in the long run.”

Ava Ava was more than a little surprised by his response, but she knew better than to say it aloud when they weren’t alone. The king wanting to give up and leave? The anarchy and the unrest would be astronomical. “Would it be selfish of me to say that I’d at least try and stop you?” She asked with a little smile, trying to lighten the mood he’d gotten in. Her smile soon fell though as he spoke about how she’d be as a vampire, how she’d feed and she swallowed, looking away as she frowned, “I don’t want to hurt anyone..”

Octavian While Octavian understood Ava’s fear of hurting people—knowing that she was far too kind to be a vampire—there was really nothing that could be done about it. It was how their species worked. “Humans are prey to us, Ava,” he started, looking down at her and hoping she would understand. “A vampire’s existence will cause pain to humans in some way. Especially with the social structure that has been set up.” He had made it himself and Ava was ascending to a different level of it. “You will be more than what you once were, naturally and legally.” His hand went to her collar, thumbing it between his fingers. “While you will remain my pet, you will no longer be a slave, and no one can treat you as such. You will have different rights and humans will be expected to treat you with respect.” He was confident power wouldn’t get to Ava’s head, but that could change after a few centuries, if not decades.September 5, 2020

Ava “I know..” Ava murmured, licking her lips. “At the very least I just...don’t want to kill anybody, if I can avoid it.” Was that too much to ask for? To not want to end someone’s life even if she had to feed from them to live her own? Surely there could be some kind of compromise..even for someone new to it like her.. “Will others be able to tell that I used to be human? Princess Kate told me once that you and your family already smell different from other vampires since you’re pureblooded..will that affect me too?” She wondered softly, honestly just wanting to keep talking and not sleep just yet even as she felt more and more heat beginning to creep through her body. She looked down at her collar as he touched it and spoke and she licked over her lips. “A vampire in a collar won’t..make people look at me weird? If they can smell I’m not a human?”

Octavian “Yes, you will smell a bit different. All vampires do. A person’s scent is almost as unique as appearance, except it’s easier to mask without too much hassle.” For a pureblood like him, he could easily tell the differences between people and even receive a certain level of information about their lifestyle from it. “It will take you some time to master your senses, but it will come,” he reassured. With him as her teacher, he had no doubt she would learn even quicker. “No one will bat an eye at you wearing a collar, Ava. A collar is a symbol of ownership rather than status, especially on a vampire. You are mine. It doesn’t mean you’re a slave, just that you belong to me. No one will question it. It will protect you the same way it did while you were human.” He pulled her closer and nuzzled his nose against her hair. “Tomorrow will be an exhausting day so I want you to try to sleep.” With everything new that she would be feeling, she needed as much rest now as she could get.

Ava Ava nodded, wondering if her scent would at all be similar to his if it would be his blood flowing through her veins for the rest of her life. It was an overwhelming but..nice thought, one that, when coupled by his assurances again about her collar, helped her relax more. "I belong to you." she echoed in agreement, voice softer. The heat she was feeling within herself coupled with the rhythmic beating of Octavian's heart under her ear was starting to lull her off more and she let out a breath, taking one last look around his room before she closed her eyes, mumbling a soft I love you before finally forcing herself to just...stop thinking and finally fall asleep. It was once she did that things got worse. Her temperature spiked more and more, her body flushing and dotting with sweat as her heart raced.

Her face was pinched and she let out little noises in her sleep as she panted softly, squirming around in her sleep as it got worse and worse. It lasted pretty much all night until the sun began to peak up over the horizon, just barely beginning to illuminate in the room. Ava's face scrunched and her eyelids fluttering a bit, barely opening before quickly squeezing shut with an exhausted groan. "I...--Ian.."

Octavian Octavian waited until Ava’s breath evened out and she fell asleep before letting himself do the same. He peeled himself away from her, knowing that his added body heat would only make things more uncomfortable, but he remained close. His sleep was light and every time she made a noise, he woke up to check up on her. Her body was incredibly warm as she went through the transformation but nothing seemed out of the ordinary so he let himself relax again. The process continued until she finally called his name, prompting him to open his eyes once again to meet hers. The moment he saw her, her eyes glowed at him, signaling that the transformation was complete. Her scent had changed too, the mix of his own blood settling in and changing her entire biological structure. “Ava,” Octavian greeted, a little smile on his face as he pressed a small kiss to her forehead. “How are you feeling?” he asked, cupping her cheek. She wasn’t as warm anymore and the redness in her face had faded. Her body was adapting and repairing itself, reforming her into something better.

Ava Ava felt like she'd run a marathon despite having slept for hours. She felt tired. A little weak. Hungry. She hesitantly peeked her eyes opened again, her eyes watering from the brightness in the room--and why was it so loud? It was like she could hear her pulse and his in her ears. Along with the loud whir of the air conditioning, birds sounding like they were chirping inches away and not far outside the windows. A moment later though, through slitted eyes she could see Octavian there, his scent barreling into her. Warm. A little overwhelming. Safe. "I-I..." she swallowed, wincing at the dryness in her throat. She felt a bit tacky, sweat dried on her body now that her temperature was getting back to normal but her heart still felt like it was racing. "I don't know."

Octavian That was a fair answer. From what he remembered, the first thing to do was feed. Her eyes were still glowing and it would be long before her fangs made an appearance. It would take some time for her to control little things like that but it wouldn’t take too long with his guidance hopefully. “You’re going to need to feed,” he stated, bringing his wrist to his mouth so he could draw blood from it. She would need to feed from a human eventually, but he wanted to make sure that she at least had some blood beforehand. “Blood from a pureblood can give vampires a certain... high. It should relax you a bit,” he explained. He got up and offered her his bleeding wrist, watching her carefully as he did. With her being new, he wanted her feeding at a spot that was easier to control in case things got out of hand. Not that Ava could do much damage to him, but he knew that she would freak out much more if she thought that she hurt him. “After this, we will get you a bag and start off slow.”

Ava It took a few more blinks, her eyes squinting before finally adjusting to the brightness in the room. It wasn't even dawn yet, so how bright would the daytime be... That train of thought paused though once he mentioned feeding. Her eyes zeroed in on him before moving to his wrist and the scent of it hit her like a truck. She practically salivated, feeling like she hadn't eaten in days and she only resisted a second before finally leaning her head forward and parting her lips to take it into her mouth. She'd fed from Ian countless times, but it was nothing like this. Like a sweet wine, intoxicating, and unconsciously her hand came up, gripping tight at the back of his arm to pull it closer, to drink more. Even before changing he always smelled good to her. Clean, musky, a scent she quickly equated to all the best things in her life, and now it was tenfold. She couldn't get enough of it--of any of it. So much so that a needy little moan bubbled out of her as she drank harder, barely even registering his words as a little dribble of blood trailing crimson out the side of her mouth and down her neck, her entire being too focused on the task at hand.

Octavian Ian let Ava feed, watching her carefully as she did. She was hungry and he knew that he would have to do much more to quench her thirst. He pulled her towards him so that she was laying against him and ran his hand through her hair. “Good girl,” he praised, pressing little kisses against her head. Ava was far too kind and he didn’t want her to feel anything but good about the fact she was feeding. This was natural—something good. Octavian continued to hold her for the next few moments, letting her enjoy herself for as long as he could before she was beginning to take too much. “Ava, stop,” he ordered, wanting to test her willpower on something less dangerous. He didn’t expect her to really listen, far too consumed by her lust for more, but there was a slight possibility that he would be able to get through to her, especially with how strong their connection had now become.

Ava Conflicted was….a good word for how Ava was feeling. Octavian’s blood was sweeter than anything she’d ever had, delicious, like she just couldn’t get enough. But it was…blood. This ravenous feeling was unlike anything she’d felt before and honestly, it kind of scared her a bit. She didn’t like feeling like she was out of control of her own body… But then..Ian was there. And instead of telling her off for it, he was praising her for it, pulling her closer and kissing her head, surrounding herself with him, making that conflicted feeling multiply. She hadn’t really heard his voice up until now, but this time when he spoke it was commanding, authoritative, and the insatiable hunger she felt deep inside herself was now at war with the bone-deep desire she had to obey him, to please her Master. And that feeling was just as overwhelmingly new. As a human, she already felt unwavering loyalty to the king, but now it was…different. Stronger. More than just a mental thing but physical. She felt a tug in herself to listen to him—and those two feelings inside herself were now at war: wanting to feed and wanting to obey.

Ava whimpered, loudly, her fingernails gripping at Ian’s arm hard enough that they pierced into his skin as she tried to use the hold to ground her, tugging his wrist a bit away from mouth and causing more to spill down her neck as she looked up at him- bright red eyes a mix of scared and pleading.

Octavian Octavian recognizes the struggle in Ava’s eyes and patiently waited to see what would win over. Obeying him and feeding were both powerful parts of her nature and he was curious to see which side would win in the struggle. He wouldn’t blame her for not obeying but that concern was for naught when he felt her fangs leave his skin. Her grip on his arm was tight, her reluctance palpable, but she stopped and that was all that mattered. He ran his fingers through her hair, soothing her as he showered her with praise. “Good girl,” he repeated over and over again, his tone as soft as if he were hushing a small child.

She had done well, even if she didn’t think she had. He reached down and wiped the blood off her chin, pressing his thumb against her lips to give her one last lick before pulling his arm back. It had healed already and all that was left was a quickly drying layer of blood. Once she seemed to have calmed down, he reached over for the phone and ordered for human blood to be brought to him. With her restraint so weak, it was best to keep her fully fed at all times. “Are you feeling better now, Ava?” he asked, a gentle smile on his face. There was no hint of upset or trepidation, just a loving pride at her success. “Do you want to rest some more?”

Ava The hand that wasn’t gripped into Ian’s wrist was trembling beside her, fingers twitching a bit, a tell that she was in an internal battle with herself, hunger and obedience fighting inside her. She whined as he pulled his arm away but she didn’t tug back, relenting to him. Even as he praised her though, she felt pressure building behind her eyes, tears flossing over her vision. She didn’t like being so out of control. Ava sniffled softly as he wiped her clean, blood-tinged tongue swiping out to lick over his thumb. She shifted then, pressing more into him, twisting in a way that her nose was pressed to his chest, trying to let his scent fill her senses and try to calm herself. Her heart was still racing though, everything still feeling overwhelming.

After a few minutes she heard him speak and she hesitantly looked up at him. “I....I’m hungry still..” she said it tentatively, almost like she was ashamed after having drank from him. “And it’s bright...And loud outside.” She wondered how long it’d take to get used to all her senses being so heightened. She curled her legs up under herself, practically balling herself up against him, feeling safer as long as she was surrounded by him.

Octavian“It’s okay,” Octavian reassured, hoping that his words would sink in. She had nothing to be ashamed of and it hurt him to see her so scared of herself. He predicted that this would happen but it didn’t make it any less unpleasant. “You will be okay.” He held her impossibly closer and pressed kisses against her head. “You will get used to it all. For now, just focus on me,” he ordered. Her senses were overwhelming her and Octavian needed to remind her to focus—to block everything else out before it drove her mad. “Just focus on me.” No sooner had he said those words was there a knock on the door. He allowed the person to enter and they carried in a large bottle of blood. It was human so it was going to be completely different from his own and he made sure that it was freshly taken from the people who had been made to offer it. He couldn’t get a live person for Ava to feed from yet, but this was the next best thing. He grabbed the bottle and offered it to Ava. “Drink and keep drinking until you’re no longer hungry. If you need more, tell me.” He paused, tipping her chin upward to meet his eyes. “You are more dangerous hungry, Ava. Do not let this guilt consume you or you will cause more harm.”

Ava It's okay. She kept repeating those words over and over in her head, trying to get her thoughts in order. It helped, having him say the same out loud, having him holding onto her. Just focus on me. She repeated that too, forcing herself to obey. She focused on his heart under her ear, the rhythmic rise and fall of his chest with his soft breaths, letting those noises drown out everything else. She focused on his arms around her, his scent strong in every inhale, and with her eyes closed...she finally felt some of the tenseness loosen out of her body. She kept her eyes closed even as the door opened, another's strong scent filling the air and she just pressed her face more into Octavian's chest. Focus on me. She couldn't help but wonder though: if just one person's scent was strong to her..how would she feel in a crowd? The thought made her head spin again. "H....How long will I feel like this.." she mumbled it more t herself than anything, wondering how long she'd have to go feeling like everything was so much.

Her eyes opened as he brought the bottle to her, eyes red still, not completely focused. She was hungry, a little noise grumbling in the back of her throat a mix of a growl and a whimper. Human blood. Even before, she'd drank from Ian a few times, was getting used to it. But this was....different. She hesitated as he made her look up, meeting his eyes. "Y-Yes Master." Ava's fingers were a bit shaky as she reached out, wrapping her smaller hand against his on the bottle as she brought it up- and the moment the warm liquid hit her tongue, the noise she made was louder, this time more definitely a growl. She tugged the bottle closer and practically chugged on it, almost like it was going to be taken away. She didn't even care as some again dripped down her chin and neck, her hunger finally being sated for real and in the end she drank the entire bottle, head tipped back against his chest as she fed.

Octavian Octavian continued to watch as Ava consumed the contents of the bottle, the hunger and desperation in her eyes reminiscent of a starving and wild dog. His puppy had grown and he needed to train her once again. He waited for her to finish before yanking the bottle away from her tight grip, passing it on to the guard. “Get me another,” he ordered, not completely convinced and wanting to be absolutely sure that she was done feeding. It would relax her and help her focus. He could only teach her how to tune everything out when her hunting instincts weren’t engaged. A starving and scared animal notices everything around them. “We will spend the rest of the day here, learning how to control your senses,” he declared, wiping away the blood that had trailed down her chin with his thumb. He licked it clean himself, a little smirk on his lips. “Why don’t we start with the easiest?” He grabbed her chin softly with his thumb and pulled her in for a kiss—a proper one. A small growl ignited in his throat, his eyes black the next time he pulled back. Octavian was always domineering but now he wanted to play with her newly born instincts—curious to see how she would react. By the end of the day, he was certain she would be quite versed in her sense of touch.

#para #para: all #para: octavian #c: octavian #discord

2 notes · View notes

abovethesmokestacks · 5 years

Text

A Home For the Heart

Title: A Home For the Heart

Pairing: Hal Carter x reader

Rating: General audiences

For @the-ss-horniest-book-club Drunk Drabbles picture prompt special. My image prompt (seen here below) was sent in by @marvelgirl7, and it... got away from me. I still hope you like it!

He almost scares the living daylights out of her. The small train station is all but empty, and she’s pacing the platform, rubbing her arms to stave of the chill drawing in. September slowly bled away until suddenly she seemed to wake up in October. Leaves have already started falling from the trees and it will get colder. There was a plan, she was going to go places, there was going to be an adventure. Now she’s here, halfway to the middle of nowhere, no money for train fare, and yet she can’t make herself move away from the platform.

A cargo train pulls in, the brakes jarring and making her cringe. Maybe that’d be something. Train hopping like a drifter, going from place to place. Living the great American roadtrip on the rails, experience the world as she never would have before.

She’s lost in some romanticized dream of what it might be like when a gentle hand shakes her shoulder. The squeak she lets out might possibly be described as more of a shriek, but she claps a hand over her mouth, the dream lost in favour of a worst case scenario where she won’t ever leave town, let alone this platform.

“Sorry if I scared ya, miss.”

There is a man standing next to her, rugged and a little travel worn, with bright blue eyes regarding her under a long fringe that is just shy of being able to be swept behind his ears. There’s a rip in his shirt, a duffel slung over his shoulder that looks like it’s staying together by hope alone, scuffed boots on his feet.

“I tried calling out for ya, you look a little lost,” he offers, removing his hand and taking a step back. “I’m Hal Carter, miss.”

“I’m...” She fumbles for words. Does she offer her name? “I’m... lost.”

Hal smiles, shoves his hands into the pockets of his faded jeans, “Well, I know this place pretty well, so if you need directions, I can probably help.”

It prompts a story. Because directions, yes, she could use them, but they would all lead to places with things she can’t afford because her last bit of cash was stolen, and food and shelter generally require funds. Hal nods, and though her cheeks heat with the shame of having to admit she has no money, no plan, no idea what to do, he doesn’t berate her, doesn’t dismiss her.

“C’mon,” he says, motioning with his hand for her to follow.

He is a stranger. He could be dangerous. But there is an ease to his expression, a flash of something like kinship in his eyes. She can at least walk a bit with him. Walking will keep her warm. She’ll need it.

“It’s tough being out on the road alone,” he tells her as they leave the station behind. “Been doing it myself most of the past season. Hopped on a train, rode until I got somewhere, worked for anyone who needed a hand, moved on when I wanted. Frightens me every damn time to get off that train.”

They exchange stories. A carnival down in New Orleans. Farms dotted all over the Midwest. The forests of the Olympic Peninsula. Trains and car rides and travels that have neither a beginning nor an ending. She doesn’t even notice they’ve strayed from the road leading into town, instead walking along a smaller dirt road. She’s about to ask where they’re headed, fear simmering in the pit of her stomach when she looks ahead where the road bends into a gentle downhill curve. It opens up to a landscape she could only have dreamt about. A worn wooden rail lines the road with string lights wrapped around them, pumpkins and lit lanterns dotting the way down to a red farmhouse nestled in a little clearing before a sprawling forest that burns with red and yellows and browns.

“W-Who lives here? Is it another job for you?” she asks, mouth agape as she takes in the sight, the warmth radiating from the picturesque setting.

Hal only smiles, keeps trudging down the road. She can do nothing but follow, looking up only when she hears a door open and spots a woman stepping out onto the porch, arms crossed over her chest.

“And what time do you call this?” the woman calls out to Hal, mirth and playful irritation mixing in the lilt of her accent.

“What can I say, trains don’t always run on time. Told you I’d be home on the 11th, though, didn’t I?” Hal replies, hurrying up to the woman and pressing a kiss to her cheek.

With a “hmph”, the woman turns her gaze from Hal. “And who do we have here?”

She wants to shrink away from the attention, but Hal come back down to join her, wraps an arm around her, “Ma, this is our guest. She’ll be staying for a bit til she can get back on her feet.”

Ma? She tries hard not to let her eyes bulge. Ma doesn’t seem to even bat an eyelash, only tells them both to get on inside and out of the cold. It’s a bit of a blur from there on out; she’s shown to a room, offered some warmer clothes and a chance to wash off the dirt of the road, and when Hal knocks on her door to suggest something warm to drink, she already feels like she’s been here for weeks.

“You live here?” she asks later. They’re back on the porch, each wrapped in a blanket with a mug of hot apple cider cupped between their hands. “She’s your... She’s-”

“Oh, no, she’s not my ma. Not my real one. I’ve known her since I was a kid, my own mother wasn’t- I just kept calling her Ma so often that it stuck,” Hal explains, looking down at his mug. “She takes care of the place while I’m away. ‘S been hard keeping this place going, but I couldn’t bear getting rid of it. So for the summers, I roam around. I see the country, work like a dog, while Ma takes care of the place. Sharp as a tack that one. She keeps hoping one day I’ll stop. Says it’s no good for the soul to be as uprooted as mine. Keep telling her I gotta find something to make me stay first.”

She looks around, from the illuminated path to the barns and golden fields that lie like muted gold in the fading light. “I don’t think I could ever leave,” she confesses, taking another sip of the cider, eyes fluttering close at combination of rich spices and tangy apples.

“You’re free to stay as long as you’d like, ‘s long as you don’t mind lending a hand.”

“Of course.”

She thinks maybe it’ll be a few days. A few weeks. Maybe a month or two, tops. But like September vanished seemingly unnoticed, so does time. She helps out during the days, sometimes with Ma, sometimes with Hal. Some days, she wanders around, goes into town, but never once does she feel the call of the trains passing through. There are dinners and lunches and stolen glances and lingering touches. There are pumpking pies and first snow and a warm hand in hers around a table laden with food. There’s Hal and talks on the porch and snowball fights that end in both of them soaked to the bone and Ma shaking her head like they’re teenagers and whispering things to him that make him blush. There’s a new year, coldsnaps and a sprained ankle, and one February night there is a kiss so brief that if it weren’t for her tingling lips, she thinks she might have dreamt it.

Everything melts. The snow. Her heart. The seasons are turning, and she wakes one night feeling like the last flash of winter is holding her heart in an icy grip, filling it with a dread that has her knocking on Hal’s bedroom door in the middle of the night. When he opens, he barely gets a word out before her arms are slung around his neck, face pressing against the warmth of his chest.

“What’s the matter?”

I gotta find something to make me stay first.

“Please, stay. I don’t want to leave, I don’t want you to leave. Please, I can’t, I don’t want to go back.”

“Sweetheart...”

“Hell, I don’t have anything to go back to at this point, I don’t know what to do,” she rambles on, clinging to him as if he might at any moment dismiss her and push her away.

Her heart nearly breaks when he steps away from her, holds her steady so he can look at her. It’s going to happen. No more days working. No more dinners. No more nagging him with Ma. No more talks on the porch. No more kisses.

“Sweetheart, look at me... It’s okay, you’re okay, please, lemme look at you.” Even in the dark, she can tell the exact shade of blue in his eyes. “I’m gonna be honest with you, okay? I had almost forgot that I usually leave in the next two months. In... God, in four months, I haven’t thought about it once. You know what I have thought about? You. You and how I want to show you everything. I barely even know how this place works in the summer months, and Ma will chew me out for every bit I don’t know, but god, I want to be here with you. I want us to be here.”

“You said you always left,” she says, voice small and nearly muffled against his skin.

“Because this never felt like a proper home. Ma’s here, and I love her, but there’s... a lot of memories attached to this place. And sooner or later they begin to eat at me. So I leave. I leave so I can come back and live in this house without a shadow constantly weighing on me. But darling, you’ve... I don’t remember this house ever being this happy. From the day you came home with me from the train station, you made me feel at home. And I was fearful you’d leave eventually. ‘S not a glamorous life after all, and I’d’ve understood if it wasn’t for you. I still do. But as long as you want to stay, I’ll stay with you. And if ever you want to leave, I want you to know, I ain’t gonna keep you from the road. But this house...” He cups your face, smiling like he’s about to fall to pieces before you. “This house is a home because of you.”

“You... won’t leave?” It’s the only thing she can think of, the only thing she can focus on, hope bubbling like sparkling wine inside her.

Hal smiles, closes the distance to kiss her soft and sweet, lifting her up and swaying them around. “How could I leave when there’s a home for my heart now?”

#HBC Drunk Drabbles #Hal Carter x reader #Picnic fanfiction #hell ye I'm drunk #DRUNK ON FLUFF AND LOVE FOR MY BOY HAL #this is also partly based on Hal's backstory from Picnic #which if you haven't read up about it #will 100% make you want to hug the poor guy

46 notes · View notes

darkficsyouneveraskedfor · 5 years

Text

Silent Night

Based on this: “You aren’t a big fan of Christmas and just want to get out of the city and away from the hustle and bustle. However the one and only Captain America has had his eyes on you and wants to spend a perfect Christmas with you whether you like it or not."requested by anonymous.

Warnings: noncon sex (fingering, intercourse)

Note: Okay, so I’ll be working on holiday drabbles over the next few days. Hopefully one or two a day if I can manage! Thanks for all the requests so far and I’m working at keeping up.

Hope y’all enjoy. Like and/or reblog!! <3 Reblogs really help especially since I haven’t been getting many.

A quiet Christmas. A once in a lifetime occasion. Convincing your parents to let you skip the family dinner had been a task in itself, only exchangeable for your labour. The old cabin your aunt hadn’t visited since her fall down the stairs a year ago was far away that it guaranteed a holiday undisturbed. A favour, you negotiated, a gift for your aunt who would soon be in shape to once more respite to the northern forests. The place must be dusty, it would need a cleaning before that. Your selfish reclusivity disguised as generosity.

More difficult had been your departure from work for the two weeks that encapsulated both Christmas and New Years Eve. Stark was the festive sort and Nat was the talkative sort. She’d let slip just as you informed your boss you’d be away and unable to attend his respective holiday parties that you hated the time of year. You cringed and it told Tony all he needed to know. But, begrudging and with a vow you’d attend the next year, he approved the time away. You scowled at Nat and promised her payback.

The drive was peaceful. The further you drove along the single lane highway, the deeper the snows grew, the quieter the air. You thought of how nice it would be to be alone. Somewhere where even the howls of wolves were muted in the sheets of snow, completely serene.

Not hiding in the corner of the room as others drank and made merry in the false spirit of the season. Not putting on a smile to assuage propriety. Not lying about your plans for the days of cheer. Only you and nature and silence. Well, maybe some non-Christmassy music too.

Then your mind strayed. You had tried to be covert. Tried not to let on your pending absence. FOMA was not an emotion for you, in fact you feared having to partake. You made Nat swear not to tell anyone else; not to let Wanda know until it was too late, not to goad Pepper into her nagging, not to allude to Peter that his “second aunt” would be miles away.

It had almost gone to plan. You woke up early to leave. You lifted your bag, afraid the wheels would give away your escape. You crept to the elevator but when the doors opened, Steve was there. He didn’t miss the guilty frown or the suitcase. He stayed on the elevator, though he’d only just taken it up, and made the descent with you.

“You’re leaving us?” He wondered. “Without a goodbye?”

“I’ll be back. I just didn’t want a whole...thing,” You gripped your suitcase and his hand settled next to yours.

“Let me help you with your bag at least,” He offered. “A Christmas present since you won’t get mine until you return.”

“Present? You didn’t have to--don’t have to--”

“What is it? You hate us, don’t you? Just put up with us for the paycheck?” He kidded.

“Steve,” You rebuked and he subtly tugged the bag away from you. “You know that’s not it.”

“Family?” He asked.

“Well...not exactly.” You admitted as the doors opened and he waved you out ahead of him.

“Not exactly?”

“I’m doing a favour for my aunt. Cleaning out her old summer cabin.” You explained as he followed you across the lobby. “A nice solitary reprieve.”

“Oh, are we that chaotic?”

“Not what I meant,” You grumbled as you passed into the parking garage. “Really. I’ll see you after when the city isn’t so...shiny.”

“Alright.” He wheeled your bag to your car as you popped the trunk. “But I don’t think you realize how much we’ll miss you.”

“You’ll survive,” You scoffed as he lifted your suitcase into the car.

“Mmhmm,” He nodded and you closed the trunk.

“Don’t,” You warned him. “I already got the guilt trip from Tony. You’re better than him.”

“Sure I am,” He shrugged and you shook your head.

“Alright, enough. I gotta go.”

Your farewell was more than that. Steve was persistent, as always. You’d finally managed to get a final goodbye as you were halfway in the car and he blocked you from closing the door. Maybe he didn’t realize how often he was in your way. How often he was at your desk gabbing away as you tried to concentrate on Tony’s chicken scratch or how he always found you on your lunch and kept you from listening to the latest episode of that one podcast. Maybe he didn’t, or maybe he did. Maybe the golden boy was a bit more tarnished than he let on. Or maybe he was as oblivious as he seemed.

You tore your mind back to the road. To the dull lights that shone in your rear view. When had they shown up? You were the only car for the last little stretch, not many ventured into this area later than September. You squinted at the car, the specks of snow obscuring it enough to be just discernible, and looked back to the road ahead.

You were almost there, hopefully before the snow made the way impassable. Before you were forced to park your car in the forest and trek the rest on foot. You’d done it once before, but without the feet of snow to slow you. You wondered if you’d even make it should it come to that.

You made it though. The headlights disappeared from your mind and when you turned off they passed smoothly. You continued up the winding path, just wide enough for your car. Slow, steady, safe. When you pulled up to the side of the cabin you sighed. You’d have to shovel your way in, and maybe out when all was said and done.

You awkwardly pulled on your snow pants in the cramped interior of your car. You hit your head and elbows several times before you were left out of breath but protected. You had to push your way through the snow and into the garage. The shovel was covered in frozen cobwebs, the dusty and undisturbed space smelled like snow and isolation.

You grabbed the shovel and turned back. The snow continued to fall, adding to your chore. A few paths, to the door, to the car, around the back. It’d tire you out and see you til the morning when the real work began.

Your first day was spent dusty and wiping down the tables and walls. The work carried over into the second when at last you managed to sit still for more than a couple minutes. There was wood left in the shed but you were nervous you’d be out in the drifts, almost taller than yourself now, chopping more. You didn’t use much in the summertime when it was reserved for evening fires. Now it was shoved in the stove to heat the front room where you huddled under a blanket and shivered.

The generator powered the 70s style fridge but little else. You were left to flashlights and even an old oil lamp your aunt had bought at a yard sale. It was close to evening, the sky a pale blue threatening to turn pitch black. You sat with a book open in front of you, the words bolder in the reserved quiet of the cabin.

Your cell held the pages down, lifeless and without signal. Your mom couldn’t remind you of your desertion, Tony couldn’t try to guilt you, Nat couldn’t send those weird memes that were frighteningly dark. You were entirely unbothered by the winter owls and the distant snowy creatures of the trees. Christmas Eve had never been so perfect.

The date was in the back of your mind. You’d barely take note of it if it wasn’t on the lock screen. You moved to the sofa and reclined to read another chapter, yawning and curling into a ball. You’d been sleeping there to stay close to the stove and feed it in the early hours to keep it from dying.

Another half chapter and your eyes were closing against your will. You closed the book around your phone and set it on the floor beside the couch. You pulled the blanket to your chin and clicked off the flashlight. You nestled into the cushions, the fire crackling and coaxing you deeper. You fell asleep, a slumber unusually rapt on the night before Christmas.

You didn’t wake to stoke the fire though, not that you realized in your sleep. Undisturbed, unworried. Until you did wake and not of your own accord.

The old cabin was known for its creaks and cracks. First built in the thirties and renovated in the seventies, it was expected. But this wasn’t a groan of aged wood, or the wind battering the old shingles, it was a footstep, and then another, and another. Soft against the hardwood, the clink of dishes, the sound of living.

Your eyes opened and you saw the stove glowing amber; finely stocked and burning boldly. Your heart seized and you sat up so suddenly you had to keep yourself from toppling to the thin carpet below. Surely a bear wouldn’t be so tactful, so careful.

You turned and looked into the kitchen. You recognized the golden head, the broad shoulders as the intruder stood at the kitchen stove. The smell of pancakes filled the cabin and you shivered as the blanket fell from your shoulders. You stood but he didn’t seem to notice.

You tiptoed to the fireplace and grabbed a log from the stack. Surely a meagre weapon against him but what the fuck was he doing here? Steve Rogers in your aunt’s cabin, uninvited and quite possibly, unhinged.

You neared the door of the kitchen and he turned back to you. You held the log at the ready to swing. He held a spatula and was entirely unfazed by your fearful approach.

“Did I wake you?” He asked as if all was as it should be.

“What--What the hell are you doing here?” You clung to the log as he stepped closer.

“You can’t spend Christmas alone,” He said coolly. “I couldn’t let you.”

“Better yet, h-how did you even--did you follow me here?” You pointed the log at him as he tried to step closer. “No. Don’t. Steve, this is weird.”

“It’s dangerous here. All the snow. Out here alone. You need someone.” He replied as he turned back and flipped the pancakes. “Go on and grab a plate, these are almost done.”

You flinched. What was wrong with him? This wasn’t the Steve you knew. Well, it was in that he was sweetly making you breakfast but he was also intruding on your privacy. You stepped closer with the log and poked him.

“Steve, you need to go,” You said. “Now.”

“Now that’s not very grateful, is it?” He ignored the log and went to the cupboard. He pulled out two plates onto the counter and switched off the stove. He piled the flapjacks on them and went to the fridge to find the syrup. “I’ve come here to keep you company, to keep you safe, and I’ve even made you breakfast.”

“I didn’t ask you to.” You kept the wood in front of you as he opened the silver drawer. “You’re really freaking me out.”

“And you want me to go out? Into the storm?” He nodded to the window, white with the whirl of the blizzard just outside. “I barely made it here.”

“Steve,” You whined. “Steve, stop.” You jabbed him harder with the log. He dropped the cutlery on the counter and turned to you slowly. “What’s wrong with you?”

“Nothing is--” He grabbed the log and wrenched it from your grip. “Wrong with me.” He broke it in half easily and dropped it. “What is wrong with you?”

“You’re not supposed to be here.” You insisted as you backed away.

“Will you just sit down and eat your breakfast?”

“I don’t want to. I want you to go.” You said.

“Jesus,” He breathed and wiped his hands on his jeans. “You always do this. You’re such a little tease.”

“What are you talking about?” You felt around as you passed through the doorway backward and he neared slowly.

“I might be born last century but I’m not stupid,” He said. “Your blouses, that smile, the way you chew on your pen when we talk, that fake laugh you put on.”

“Steve, you’re wrong, I never--”

“I just want you to have a Christmas to remember. For us to make our first Christmas special.”

You gulped and peered around. You looked back to him and lunged for the poker leaned against the wall. He grabbed it before you and tossed it away just as he pulled you back. He spun you around and threw you against the sofa. You fell onto it with a painful bounce and tried to push yourself back up. He was on you in and instant.

“Steve!” You yelped. “Steve, please stop!”

You beat on his chest as he wrestled with you. You had to be dreaming. This was some sick nightmare. He was so strong, so decisive. You tried to wake up, hit him hoping you would suddenly jolt up and find the cabin empty, but your eyes were already open and this was just as real as it felt.

He soon had you beneath him, straddled and squirming as he held your hands beside your head. You kicked your legs helplessly and he squeezed your hips between his thick thighs. His blue eyes were dilated and sinister as he pinned you down.

“Shhh, calm down. Please,” He tried to soothe you. “Honey, you can’t open your presents if you’re bad.”

“Honey? Don’t call me honey!” You spat. “Get off of me.”

“I don’t want to hurt you,” He said. “Please, don’t make me.”

You stilled suddenly. You stared up at him, shocked. Was that a threat? From Steve Rogers? Well, he was on top of you and you felt the twitch in his jeans as he stared down at you.

“You wouldn’t,” You gasped.

“Only if you make me,” His voice was low and grimy. “Don’t make me.”

“Steve,” You pleaded in a whisper. “Please,” You tried to move and barely jostled him. “Let me go.”

He closed his eyes and huffed. He lowered his head and squeezed your wrists. He was angry, frustrated. You were terrified.

“You’ve already let our breakfast go cold,” His words were measured though his tone trembled. “You better start listening, honey, or you’ll ruin the whole day for us.”

“Steve, please…”

“Don’t.”

“Steve.”

“No. Don’t make me.”

“Steve, please, you’re scaring me.”

He let go of your wrists and for a moment, you thought he would get off of you. But he didn’t. Instead, he grabbed the neck of your loose sweatshirt and the tear of fabric was like a crack of lightning. The thin tank top beneath showed your nipples, hard from chill air, and he ripped it just as swiftly.

“No,” You tried to bat his hands away, tried to keep them from your bare chest.

He pushed past your struggles and ground his pelvis into you. “You have to be good.” He hissed. “Or I’ll be bad.”

“Stop,” You sobbed. “Steve.”

You tried to shove him away but he didn’t relent. He bent over you, sliding back just slightly. He held your chin in his large hand as his other tweaked your nippled painfully. “Shhh,” He pressed his lips to yours and muffled your pleas.

His hand continued to toy with you, kneading and pinching painfully. He groaned into your mouth and rocked his hips against you. His hand moved lower as his other threatened to break your jaw. You were forced to open your mouth and he quickly devoured you.

He tugged at the elastic of your sweatpants, hooked his fingers under your cotton panties as he pulled them lower. You reached down to keep them at your waist but he yanked them sharply from your grasp. He lifted his pelvis as he edge them down your thighs.

He withdrew from your lip and held you down with a hand on your chest as his other worked at your pants. You grabbed his wrist, unable to budge him as your pants reached your knees. He got to his knees and you wriggled to get away.

He caught you and pulled your legs out from beneath him. He leaned them against his torso, your feet at his shoulders. He pressed his thighs around your ass as he reached down between your legs. You squirmed and pushed at his hand. Kicked your tangled legs against him. He grabbed your ankles in one hand and held them to his left shoulder.

He shoved his fingers between your thighs and forced them between your folds. He shuddered and pulled his hand away. Your eyes widened, hopeful again. You tried to move your legs but he kept them firm against him. You looked down as he unbuttoned his fly.

“Steve.” You begged. “Steve, I’ll be good.”

“Too late,” He warned. “All you had to do was listen, honey. But you wouldn’t.”

You wheezed as he unzipped his jeans and you looked away as he revealed the head of his swollen cock. You felt him pull himself out entirely and you closed your eyes. You reached down to shove him away with just your fingertips. He ignored you, if he noticed your pathetic resistance at all.

He moved your legs. Pulled them as wide as they would go still caught in your sweats. Not much but enough. He held your left knee and guided himself along your most tender spot. You tried again to draw away but he had you trapped. He leaned over you, bending your legs just slightly as he rubbed his tip against your pussy.

He pushed inside just a little. You were too tight and too dry. You exclaimed and he pulled out. He sighed and you opened your eyes to watch him lick his fingers. You grunted desperately. “Please, don’t.”

He rubbed his slick fingers along you, wetted them again and forced them inside of you. He pressed his thumb to your clit and your body stiffened. Despite your fear, your body responded. He licked his fingers a third time, to taste, to add a little more, and shoved them even deeper.

He played with you a bit and then pulled his fingers out to spread your juices along his cock. He pressed his tip to you again, this time he slid in easily but not painlessly. He didn’t ease himself in. He pushed himself to his limit and past yours and you cried out.

“Ow! Ow! Steve, it hurts. Get off! You’re hurting me, please!”

“I told you,” He thrust once, sharply. “To be good.” He thrust again and you writhed in agony.

You gritted your teeth as you tried to hold back your yelps. He rocked against you steadily, each time you winced at the strain. His hands went to your thighs as he brought himself as deep as he could go. He leaned over you, your back curved as he curled your body beneath him.

He planted his hands beside you as he raised himself over you. He lifted his pelvis and slammed it down, each time adding to the reverberations along your spine. He hammered you into the cushions as you whined. He watched your face as he worked against you, his pupils dark and wide. You grabbed his biceps and dug your nails into his skin.

“It really h--” Your breath caught. Surprised by the sudden tickle that crested the pain. “St-op...It--no.”

You covered your face with your hands as the coil wound tighter. You were ashamed and shocked at your response. The suddenness of the rise. The sounds of his cock gliding in and out of you added to the heat. Filled your head lewdly and carried you higher. You grunted as you were drawn thin and then the release washed over you.

He kept a hand beside you and pulled away your hands as you came. You closed your eyes and he carried on. Never wavered, only sped up. Didn’t let up as he chased another hill and you were forced over the edge again. You could feel his eyes on you, could feel his pleasure at stealing yours.

His groans grew louder and mingled with the sound of his body against yours. They sickening symphony reached its climax and you felt his release. Felt the gush within you as his hips jerked wildly. He emptied in himself inside you. Let forth all that he’d repressed. Anger, longing, resent; every ounce of it spilled out. He was left panting and weak, crushing your legs beneath him as he barely kept himself from slumping over you entirely.

He pushed himself back onto his knees. He pulled out and let your legs fall. Your body twisted as your knees hinged over the edge of the couch. You were shaking as you pulled your sweatshirt over your chest and his large hand settled on your ass. He caressed you, as if he cared, as if he had been sweet.

“We should eat,” He said as he drew away. The couch shifted as he stood and you heard his zipper. “Then we can start opening presents.”

899 notes · View notes

smol-and-grumpy · 5 years

Text

Dear Dean (Chapter 13)

Re-post

Pairing: Dean Winchester x OFC (Jamie Blum)

WC: 2.6k

Summary: After taking Saint Lo, by sheer dumb luck, Lieutenant Dean Winchester from the 29th Infantry Division, Baker Company, received a truckload of replacements for his platoon that was falling apart. Little did he know, that one recruit would change his life forever.

Chapter Warnings: Minor Character death, a lot of angst, fluff

SERIES MASTERLIST

September 9th, 1944

Bambi fell asleep in Dean’s arms, and he couldn’t bring himself to wake her up. He watched her sleep and felt her warm cheek against his. He only woke her up at the very last second, so he could savor the time. She punched him in his arm because he let her sleep so long. She knew that he had to go to see Castiel and cuddling was not a valid reason to be late to a meeting.

So, Dean was running late.

It was Twenty-Three-Oh-Seven, and Dean guessed that Cas would let it slide. They were pulled off the front line so he was going easy on his platoons, and Dean hoped that he would go easy on him, too.

When he reached Cas’ office, Dean knocked and waited. It was an office Cas shared with the other CO’s of Able and Fox companies, and Dean didn’t want to just barge in unannounced, even though Cas was probably impatiently waiting for him.

“Lieutenant Winchester. Permission to enter, sir!” Dean called out still from the outside.

“Permission granted.” Cas shouted from the other side.

Dean pushed the door open. The office was surprisingly empty. There were three desks with an unfinished sand table in the middle of all the other tables.

“You wanted to see me, sir?” Dean closed the door behind him and walked into the room.

“At ease, Dean.”

“Oh, good. Cause I’m too tired for that crap right now.”

Cas chuckled light heartedly. A good sign, Dean thought.

“What’s wrong, why am I alone?” Dean asked and Cas pointed to a chair for him to sit down. “Is it because of the reassignment of Bambi?”

Cas still didn’t say anything. He took out a cigarette from the tin that laid on his paper scattered desk and offered Dean one. Dean thanked him, but didn’t take one. “Still not smoking, Cas.”

“Oh, right. I forgot.” Castiel lit up his and took a deep drag of the cigarette.

“Shit, Dean,” Cas started to say, the hand with the cigarette in between his fingers went up to his nose and Cas squeezed at the bridge. “The reassignment, is not going to happen.”

“What do you mean?” Dean leaned back in his chair with a frown on his face. He wasn’t sure yet if he should be happy or sad about it.

Cas took another drag of his cigarette, blowing smoke up in the air. “Bambi’s not going anywhere. He’s going home.”

“Excuse me, what?” Dean couldn’t sit any longer, he stood up, dragging the chair across the surface of the floor, the noise of it made the hair on Dean’s neck stand up.

“Dean, listen.” And now Dean thought that Cas was torturing him deliberately by not saying what the fuck was going on. “Blum’s brother. Jim?”

“Yeah, Jim, I met him.” Dean thought back to the paratrooper he met in Saint Lo. Thought back to the man Bambi felt comfortable enough to hug in front of him. A man who loved his sister and had a hard time parting from her. “A fine man. What’s with Jim?” Dean’s heart started to beat out of his chest. Please, no. Don’t say it, Cas. Don’t fucking say it.

“I’ve heard he’d been there in Saint Lo. He got shipped off to Cherbourg to join his company, but he never made it out of Cherbourg, Dean. I don’t know why it took them so long to get the information to us.”

“Shit.” Dean opted to sit back down, holding his head in his hand as he rubbed at his face.

“I’m sorry. I just got the news before dinner. I didn’t want to ruin the mood.”

Dean didn’t know what to say to that. Should he fucking thank Cas? He knew that it wasn’t Cas’ fault, but he didn’t know who he should direct the anger to. At last he asked, “What does that mean for Bambi?”

“Private Jamie Blum will be sent home. He’s going back to England tomorrow and they will hand him a form. He’ll be deemed 4-G.” Cas said, holding up a paper that said what it meant because for the love of god, Dean didn’t know what Cas was talking about. He just kept looking at Cas puzzled until he read it out to him. “4-G: Registrant exempted from service because of the death of a parent or sibling while serving in the Armed forces or whose parent or sibling has Prisoner of War or Missing In Action status.”

Dean cleared his throat, there were so many things going through his mind.

“Do you want to tell him or should I?” Castiel asked him and Dean replied with a face.

“I’ll tell him. When does he has to leave?”

“Oh-Nine-Hundred-Hours tomorrow morning. They’ll cross the channel with the wounded and he can hop on.”

“Fuck. He’ll need time to say goodbye. You know how close my platoon is, Cas.”

“I know. I exempt your platoon from all things until that time tomorrow. I’m sorry. Tell him that, alright?” Cas put a hand on Dean’s shoulder in sympathy.

***

Dean jogged back to the building where his platoon was billeted, taking the stairs, three at a time. He peeked inside the room, the men were still drinking and laughing, playing poker on their bunk beds. When they notice him, the laughter died down and they stood at attention.

“As you were.” Dean said, before his gaze found Bambi’s. “I’ve been to see the CO..uh.. Bambi, I need to talk to you.”

She hopped off her bed and joined Dean outside. “What is it? Is it about my reassignment?”

Dean didn’t know how he should say it. So, he didn’t. Not then. He told Bambi to wait for him outside and went back into the room to tell it to his men first. So that they would know what happened.

There was no more laughter. Not even when Dean told them that they could sleep in ‘til Oh-Nine-Hundred.

“Will we see him before he leaves, Lieutenant?” Tran asked, a little teary eyed.

“Of course. I..just…we… need to clear things, and I don’t know if he’ll return tonight. Logistics, you know, but he’ll be here to pack his things tomorrow.”

“Alright. Good night, Lieutenant.” Harvelle said, trying to keep the spirit up as he suggested for the others to play another game. it wasn’t well received, but the men played along, trying to distract themselves.

He joined Bambi in the cool night, and they walk to the open field with Dean not saying a word. She didn’t dare to ask him what was wrong. They sat down underneath a tree and Dean looked up at the stars. it was a clear night, a cold one, too.

“Dean, would you please tell me what’s going on?” She turned to face him.

Dean rubbed at his face again and fuck, he tried to form words in his brain, but he couldn’t. “Shit, Bambi,” He started to say but had to pause to swallow down the lump that had built up in his throat. “You’re not going to be reassigned.” He could see her frown at him. “You’re going home.”

“I’m what?” Her voice was shaky.

“Jim,” Dean said and fuck, why was it so hard to say? “He..uh.. he fell. In Cherbourg. They couldn’t get the news to us sooner. Shit, Jamie, I’m so fucking sorry.”

She didn’t look at Dean anymore. She looked away and then she took off. She stood up and walked into the open field. Dean stood up slowly, watching her go. He was confused. He didn’t know if he should follow her or stay behind. He just didn’t know anything anymore.

He watched her collapse, falling down to her knees as she started to sob, and he rushed to her. He took a knee and held her up, making her look into his eyes. The sound of her voice broke his heart, and Dean had to bite back his own tears.

“No no no.” She mumbled as she whined. Dean pulled her into his embrace. He let her cry into his chest as he stroke her head and he couldn’t do anything more than say sorry to her over and over again.

“Jimmy.” Jamie kept on crying, but she let Dean haul her up and walk her back to the big tree. They were alone in the open, but Dean still needed to have some kind of privacy. He positioned her between his legs and laid her face on his chest as he leaned against the tree. She was still crying; her moans muffled by his chest.

He didn’t interrupt her. Instead he let her cry her heart out. Dean thought that it was long overdue, but on the other hand, what did he know? He wasn’t really the poster boy for feelings.

When her sobbing died down, Dean tried to cheer her up a little. He fished out the flask from his pants and to his surprise, Jamie took it and drank it all up. He smirked a little, because he could have used a damn drink himself. She handed it back to him, her eyes all puffed up red and her nose was swollen. Dean was sure that he had tears and snot stains on his combat jacket, but he couldn’t care about that.

Dean sat there, not saying a word. He wanted her to speak when she was ready.

After a while, Bambi did speak.

“What now?”

Dean cleared his throat, because what he was going to say then, probably devastated him more than her. “Uh.. you’re going back to England. They will deem you 4-G and then you’re on the next ship home.”

“Shit.” She muttered under her breath.

“Yeah.”

“What if I don’t wanna go home? What if I wanted to stay with the only brothers I still have left?”

“Bambi, you can’t stay. They will find you and haul your ass back, no matter what.”

“Shit.”

Yeah, there was no other word for it, Dean knew.

“That’s it, huh? I won’t see you anymore?” A new drop of tear streaked down her face and Dean brushed it away with his thumb.

“Shhh.. don’t say that.” Dean pulled her closer, placing a kiss on her forehead. “I’m still going to go back home. Not with you but to you.”

“Promise?”

“I promise.” He held her close, his arms wrapped tightly around her, and he wished that he wouldn’t have to let her go. “At least one of us will definitely get out of here alive.”

“Shut up. You promised.” She rammed her elbow into Dean’s rib, making him flinch. “When am I going?”

She had her face buried back deep in the crook of his neck and he felt her breathing against his skin.

“Tomorrow. Oh-Nine-Hundred.”

“Shit.”

“We can stay here a little longer.” Dean moved further down, laying himself in the grass and spread out his arm for her to crawl into.

“I’d like that.” She said, laying her head on his shoulder and put an arm across his chest. Her nose brushed against his jawline before she nuzzled back into the crook of his neck. He loved that. Loved that the place was made just for her to fit into.

They stayed until dawn and Dean walked her back to her billet. She wanted to have time to say goodbye to her family, and Dean understood that. He knew that he couldn’t keep her to himself. He had to share with his men, but that was okay.

Before she went in, Dean pulled her in for a bruising kiss. One that he wished would never end and she parted her lips, letting his tongue explore the familiarity of her mouth. Dean didn’t even know that he cried into he kiss, but again, so did she. Their faces were wet when they parted and they chuckled a little. “I’ll be outside when you get out. Go get some shut eye too.”

She nodded at him, smiling brightly before she went in.

***

It was Oh-Eight-Hundred when his whole platoon came out. Dean was sitting outside on the steps, waiting for them to come out. He’d been waiting for what seemed like forever. In fact, he didn’t even go back to his room. He wrote up reports for Cas, just anything that would occupy his mind. Now he was patiently waiting and he knew that they needed to say goodbye. Saying goodbye was a rare thing to do and his men didn’t get to say that a lot.

He stood up from the steps, as Bambi walked out with a crowd of men.

“We’re going for coffee and breakfast. Would you like to join us?” She’d asked him and yeah, coffee sounded about right. Dean didn’t know if his stomach could hold down a meal, though.

The truck was there on time, and they all stood in front of it as Bambi loaded up her things into the bed of the truck. She stood before Dean then, and he wanted so much to hug her, but he was already fighting with his tears at it was. Bambi saluted him one last time, a stupid grin on her face like the first time they met and he echoed her salute, so did his whole platoon.

She winked at them as she sat herself on the passenger seat, and they all watched her drive off.

To say that the moral was at the lowest since they started their mission into Normandy was an understatement.

Still, things needed to be done and a war needed to be won, and the men of 1st platoon of Baker company were slowly getting back into swings.

Dear Jamie,

You’ll probably get this letter when you arrive home. I just wanted to say - since there will probably be nobody around to say it to you - welcome home.

I hope your journey was bearable. Did you get seasick? Because I did. But also we were packed like sardines on the way over. I guess the way back is a little less stressful.

To tell you the truth, I don’t even know how I should write this letter as you’re still here. At the moment, I’m waiting for you outside on the steps. You are taking your sweet time saying goodbye inside. I want to scream for you to hurry up, because even though I just saw you a couple of hours ago, I’m jealous that they are going to spend the rest of the morning with you. Call me crazy, but that’s just the way it is.

God, I already miss you. You are not gone yet, but I already miss you.

I don’t wanna do this no more, Bambi. I wanna go home with you, but since that’s not possible, I’m gonna make good on my promise and go back home to you. One day, when this is all over, I’ll be standing on your porch and you’d say “welcome home” to me. Please say it, because then I’d feel like I arrived. Your arms will be my home. Your smile will be my home. You will be my home.

I always thought that we’d go home together and now that you’re gone, I don’t know what to do with myself anymore. I have nobody to confide in no more. In front of my men, I have to be tough and strict, but you and I both know full well that I’m not as tough as I look (don’t ever tell Sam that, you hear me).

Well, I don’t know what I should write anymore. I literally just saw you and will see you hopefully soon whenever you decide to walk out of that damn building. Hurry up!

I miss you so fucking much already. And I’ll see you soon. You just sit tight and wait for me, alright?

So, yeah, welcome home, Sweetheart.

Yours, Dean

CHAPTER 14

#dear dean #dean winchester #dean winchester x oc #dean x oc #dean winchester fic #dean winchester fanfiction #spn fic #spn au fic #nathalie writes

45 notes · View notes

lastbluetardis · 5 years

Text

Family of Six (5/14)

After James and Rose bring their newborn twins home, they work to find a balance between all four of their children, and each other. Ten x Rose AU, Soulmates AU.

This chapter:Teen, 7500 words

Ages of the Tyler-McCrimmons at the start of the chapter: James: 39, Rose: 33, Ainsley: 9, Sianin: (almost) 6, Twins: 3 weeks

If you like reading my stories, consider leaving me a tip? Or leave a reply on this post to tell me what you thought? And as always, reblogs are very much appreciated so more people can see this.

Chapters will be posted every other week → next update: September 3rd. (Notice that the chapter count went up... there’s going to be twelve chapters and an epilogue.)

Note: This chapter has some slight warnings for allusions to child abuse, as well as implying an underage relationship (between a 17- and 18-year-old).

AO3 | TSP | FF | Perfectly Matched Series

Ch1 | Ch2 | Ch3 | Ch4 | Ch5 | Ch6 | Ch7 | Ch8 | Ch9 | Ch10 | Ch11 | Ch12 | Ch13 | Ch14

Robert walked into the house, immediately spotting the almost-birthday girl.

“Happy Birthday, Sianin my darling,” he said, crouching down for a hug. She bolted into his open arms and he stood with her.

“It’s not actually my birthday yet, Grandad,” she said matter-of-factly.

“It’s not?” he asked, his jaw dropping.

Sianin giggled as she shook her head. “Nope! It’s not ‘til tomorrow.”

“Oh…” Robert glanced down at the small pile of packages in the bag he’d been carrying. “I guess I can’t give you your presents yet, then?”

“No, no,” Sianin said hastily, looking panicked. “The party’s my pretend birthday, so we’re still doing cake and presents and everything.”

Robert laughed and blew a raspberry into her neck, making her shriek and squirm in his arms. After giving her a final squeeze and a kiss, he set Sianin on her feet and turned to greet his other granddaughter. He couldn’t quite pick Ainsley up anymore, but he gave her a great big hug that lifted her off her toes for a few seconds.

“Mum’s in the kitchen,” she announced. “And Dad went out to get more ice cream.”

Robert stepped into the kitchen and saw Rose at the counter chopping vegetables.

“Hi Dad!” she said, grinning. “I’d give you a hug, but, well…” She brandished the knife in her hand.

“I’ll get one later,” he said. “Do you need some help?”

“Nah, I think I’ve got it covered.”

“Lookie what Elena and Juliette drew me!”

Sianin skipped into the kitchen, waving her right arm. He saw a bunch of little doodles, including a birthday cake with six candles and three stick figures in pointy party hats. He remembered the days when James would proudly show him and Vera the drawings Rose had made for him, especially on holidays.

“That’s lovely,” Rose said.

“I wish they could come to my party,” Sianin sighed, tracing her fingertip over the ink on her arm.

“Soon, darling,” Robert soothed.

“Nuh uh! I have to wait ‘til I’m eighteen, but that’s ages away!” Sianin whined, slumping dramatically across the table.

“It’ll be here before you know it,” Rose said sympathetically. “And it’ll be well worth the wait.”

“Your first meeting with your soulmates is going to be utterly magical and spectacular,” Robert chimed in. “It’ll be one of the best days of your life, and you’ll look back and realize that the wait wasn’t as long as you’d thought.”

Sianin made a small noise of disbelief. “What was your first meeting like, Grandad?”

“It was… incredible,” he said softly, his chest aching with a combination of sorrow, longing, and joy as the memory conjured itself in his mind.

“I’m leaving as soon as I’m eighteen. I can’t stand to be in this house a moment longer,” he’d written onto his arms one night. His father had, once again, taken Robert’s entire paycheck from his job at the butcher’s for not only rent, but more liquor too.

“I’m so sorry about your dad,” Vera replied. And after a beat, she wrote, “Where would you go?”

“I don’t care. Anywhere. I’ll hide out in the shop after it closes. I’ll go to a group home. I’ll live in a goddamned park if I have to.”

“Don’t do that! It’s January for God’s sake! You’d freeze to death!”

“I can’t stay in this house anymore, Vee.”

She was quiet for a long time. Long enough that Robert brushed his teeth and crawled into bed for the night. He kept his bedside lamp on for a few minutes longer, hoping she hadn’t fallen asleep already.

Finally, she wrote back. “Well… if you want… my house has got plenty of spare rooms. My parents said they wouldn’t mind (that’s where I was just now).”

Her words came slowly, as though she was nervous to say them.

His heart lifted, but he tried to quash the hope.

“We can’t meet yet, darling,” he said, wishing so badly they could. “You know that.”

“I know. But…” There was a long pause. “What difference would ten months make? No one would report you or anything. And if they did, they’d have me to reckon with. Just think about it? Please?”

Robert told her that he would, even though a larger piece of him told him it was probably impossible.

As his eighteenth birthday grew nearer and nearer, Robert started to seriously consider Vera’s offer. A recent winter snowstorm made him rethink some of his previous ideas. However, she hadn’t brought it up again, which made him nervous that she regretted her invitation.

Then one night his father gave him a split lip for not forking over the entirety of his latest paycheck. His father had hit him before, but mostly uncoordinated swats or a tightly-gripped arm. Never hard enough to draw blood or a bruise. Then again, Robert had never withheld money from his father before. Robert had begun working longer hours, squirreling away the extra money for when he could finally meet Vera. But his father had somehow found out and confronted him about it.

Robert had gone to bed without dinner and his money, near tears with anger, frustration, and helplessness.

“Hey, Vee?”

“Yeah, love?”

Her quick reply made his tears spill over. He wiped them away when they rolled into his raw lip.

“I was wondering…” He couldn’t bring himself to get the words out. He felt pathetic.

“Wondering?” she coaxed.

“What you said about your house having plenty of spare rooms. Is that… Could I…”

He started and crossed out several sentences before Vera said, “You are more than welcome to come stay with me and my mum and dad. More than welcome.” She underlined those words heavily. “You’re family. Have been for as long as we’ve been soulmated. My parents already consider you to be their son.”

His tears started up again in earnest, and all he managed to say was, “Thank you.”

Barely a week later, Robert found himself on the train headed to Scotland. He’d packed the barest of essentials: clothing, mostly, as well as a few books and all of the letters he and Vera had exchanged over the years. His entire life—the last eighteen years—fit in one medium-sized suitcase and a backpack. Looking at how little he had made Robert feel hollow inside.

The train ride took forever. He tried to distract himself with a book, but couldn’t silence his racing thoughts. His father had been furious when he realized his son was leaving. Robert had hoped to be out of the house before he had woken up. Alas, his father stumbled into the kitchen as Robert was writing a brief note telling him he was leaving and never returning.

His father had shouted at him and lunged for him, but was too hungover to properly do any damage. Robert grabbed his suitcase and used it to push his father to the side, then he left the house behind without ever looking back.

Robert knew his father’s fury wasn’t due to any emotional attachment; it was simply because a source of income was gone. Robert had learned ages ago not to expect an ounce of love or affection from his father. The only thing he did learn was what kind of father he himself wanted to be, if he and Vera were lucky enough to have children one day. He would be the sort of father his children could come to without hesitation, without fear, and know that they would be loved endlessly and eternally, no matter what.

Ignoring the lingering guilt of leaving his father behind, Robert had walked all the way to the train station. He’d bought a ticket with the small amount of money he’d managed to hide from his father. Finally free, Robert was now on his way to meet the woman he’d loved his whole life.

After the train ride, he hailed a taxi to Vera’s home. If his calculations were correct, the drive would use up the last of his money, leaving him penniless and homeless to meet his soulmate.

“A great start,” he scoffed to himself.

He gave the driver the address and slouched in the back seat as he was driven out of the city to a small neighboring town. Even then, they bypassed the town until they were in a wooded area. He grew nervous that maybe he’d gotten the address wrong. But he’d been sending letters to her for years, and she’d always gotten them.

The driver made an abrupt turn that had Robert clinging to the seat to keep from toppling. The car wound through trees on a narrow, bumpy road before turning onto a long dirt road. The dirt road was actually a driveway that opened up to a huge old manor house.

Robert’s eyes widened as he took in the beautiful home with the pristine white wrap-around porch and the wide expanse of grass around it. There was a tree line beyond the house, stretching out farther than Robert could see. His stomach lurched and his heart hammered. This was where Vera lived? It was like a castle.

Self-consciousness burned like acid in the back of his throat, and he was painfully aware of his tattered, ill-fitting clothes and unkempt hair and dusty shoes.

The taxi pulled to a stop. Robert fought against the impulse to tell the driver he’d gotten the wrong address and to take him back to the train station. But he couldn’t afford another taxi ride into the city. Or a new train ticket.

A flash of movement caught his eye, and Robert saw a girl with dark brown hair jump off the front porch, not bothering with the steps as she ran towards him. His stomach unknotted and he fumbled for the door handle.

“Robert! Robert!”

She had the most beautiful voice in the world. It made his knees tremble, and he was sure he was about to fall face-first into the frozen ground.

“Robert!” she shouted again. Her face was split into a wide grin. She was the most beautiful girl he’d ever seen.

“Vera,” he breathed. He forced his legs to stay steady as he took a few steps towards her. His stride grew longer and longer until he was running too.

She flung her arms wide and he followed suit half a second before their bodies slammed together. The breath left his lungs in a gasp, and he heard her make a similar noise. Then he was being held and squeezed by the person he loved most in the world.

“You’re here!” she cried.

She pulled back from their embrace, tears streaming down her cheeks. It was an automatic response for him to lift his hands to cradle her cheeks, swiping at her tears with his thumbs. He didn’t realize he was crying too until she copied his movements.

“Hi!” she giggled, beaming at him.

“Hi,” he whispered, leaning forward to rest his forehead against hers. He caught a whiff of her shampoo. She smelled amazing.

“I can’t believe it’s you,” she said, running her fingers through his hair, then down his cheek, before resting her palm against his chest. “You’re here. Oh! Happy Birthday!”

She lifted onto her toes and pecked a kiss to his cheek, then rocked back onto her heels, her cheeks pink.

“This is the best birthday I’ve ever had,” he told her honestly, his eyes flickering across her face, memorizing every detail. She was more lovely than his imagination had been able to conjure; he didn’t think he would ever grow tired of looking at her.

Robert was then aware that the taxi was pulling off down the driveway.

“My things,” he protested, turning, but he saw a middle-aged man and woman holding his suitcase and backpack. “I… I didn’t pay him.”

“We’ve got it,” Vera’s mother said gently, stepping up to him. “Our birthday gift to you.”

She set his backpack on the ground and opened her arms in an invitation for a hug, one that he stepped in to. He held himself somewhat stiffly for a second—wasn’t it awkward to hug a virtual stranger?—but the hug felt so nice that he couldn’t help but relax into it.

“We’re so happy to see you,” she whispered into his ear, then she kissed his cheek.

She released him, and he turned to Vera’s father. Despite his enormous size—he stood at least half a foot taller than Robert’s six feet—his face was kind and there were laugh lines around his mouth and eyes.

Robert stuck out his hand to shake his, but was instead pulled into another hug, to his surprise.

“Welcome,” Vera’s father said, giving him a firm squeeze. He pulled away and ruffled Robert’s hair.

His cheeks burned with an odd mixture of pleasure and embarrassment.

Vera skipped up beside him and hugged his arm to her chest, then twined her fingers through his.

“Are you hungry?” Vera’s mother asked. “Nobody’s eaten lunch yet. Let’s go inside and out of this cold. C’mon my dears.”

Vera’s parents picked up his bags and began walking hand-in-hand towards the house. Before he could follow them, Vera gave his hand a squeeze and tugged at his arm. He looked down at her and couldn’t help but smile. He was finally with his soulmate. She returned the expression, then reached up and rested her palm on his cheek.

“I love you,” she said softly.

He thought his heart might collapse in on itself, and he was slightly mortified to feel tears welling in his throat. Swallowing them away, he covered her hand with his and turned his head to the side to press a long kiss to her palm. He took her hand off his face and brought her knuckles to his lips.

“I love you, too,” he murmured into her skin. “So very much.”

Her face was beautifully pink, and he couldn’t resist kissing her fingers again. He then tucked her small hand into his and followed the people that would become his new family into the house.

“Awww.” Sianin’s dreamy coo brought Robert out of his own head and back to the kitchen.

Of course, Robert had skimmed over the details of his father and had expanded upon the details of Vera, but he stayed as close to the truth as he could.

“That sounds lovely,” Rose breathed, misty-eyed. Robert realized with a start this was the first he’d told Rose about his first meeting with Vera.

“It was,” he said simply.

Robert stuck his hand into his pocket for his wallet. When he withdrew it, he opened it up and took a small faded photograph from within. The photo was of a lanky, messy-haired boy with his arm around a petite brown-haired girl. They were both beaming.

“Look at this,” Robert said, sliding the photo across the table so his granddaughter could see. “That’s the day we met.”

“Oh!” Rose clasped her hands to her chest and smiled down at the picture.

“You look like Daddy,” Sianin observed.

“No, your daddy looks like him,” Rose corrected. When Sianin frowned in confusion, she clarified, “A child looks like their parent, not the other way ‘round, since the parent made the child.”

Sianin ignored her mother and instead looked down at the photo again. “She’s very pretty. She looks like Ainsley.” Sianin then glanced sidelong at Rose. “Er… I mean, Ainsley looks like her.”

“She was the prettiest girl I’d ever met… apart from my beautiful little granddaughters.”

He lifted up Sianin’s party hat and ruffled his fingers through her hair. She squealed and ducked out of his touch, but he caught her around the waist and peppered kisses across her neck and cheeks just to hear her laugh again.

“I love you,” he whispered to her.

“Love you too, Grandad,” she said, breathless and beaming.

The front door then opened, and James called out, “I’m back! And some guests have arrived. Sian, your mate Emma is here.”

Sianin scurried out from Robert’s arms and darted to the front of the house. He watched her go with a fond smile.

He picked up the photograph of him and Vera and tucked it safely into his wallet behind James and Rose’s latest family Christmas photo. He made a mental note to ask Rose if she had any family photos that included the twins, and if he could get a copy.

“Meeting before she turned eighteen… how scandalous.” Rose stuck her tongue out of the corner of her mouth as she smirked at him.

Robert rolled his eyes. “You know how big the manor house is… I had my own bedroom, and she had hers.”

“And how long did it take before you started sharing?” Rose teased knowingly.

“Longer than it took you and James,” Robert replied sweetly, laughing at the deep blush staining her cheeks and neck. “You know, I never did thank you.”

Rose frowned. “For what?”

“Being there for James when he needed you the most. And me.”

“Dad…” Her voice was soft as she approached him. She rested her hands on his cheeks and said, “You will never need to thank me for that. For either of you. I love you and James so much. I didn’t hesitate. You both needed me, so I went.”

He smiled at her.

“I love you,” he said, taking her hands off his cheeks to kiss the backs of her knuckles.

“I love you, too.” After a beat, she said, “By the way, your dad was an absolute wanker and you deserved so much better.”

“Yeah, he was,” Robert agreed. He hadn’t spared his father a single thought over the last fifty years except the day he was notified his father had passed away. He didn’t bother going to the funeral, and Vera hadn’t pressed it. “But he doesn’t matter. He was my past. I found a new home, a new life, in Vera. Then also in James. And now with you and my granddaughters, too. My life is so full, and I wouldn’t change anything.”

“Not anything,” Rose mumbled, her eyes going sad.

A familiar ache wrapped itself around Robert’s heart.

“I still miss her,” Rose confessed.

“I do too, darling.” He took Rose into his arms and rocked her from side to side. “But I still wouldn’t change anything. Even if it meant having her back, I wouldn’t erase a second of the time I’ve had with you and my grandchildren.”

Rose squeezed him tightly, then let him go to return to the vegetable chopping.

The guests began arriving in a steady trickle, with James and Sianin greeting everyone while Rose finished up the work in the kitchen. When she was able to join the party, she saw everyone was split into groups. Sianin was playing on the floor with the five friends she’d been allowed to invite, while the adults—their family members, mostly—cooed at the two sleeping bundles in James and Jackie’s arms.

“Oh, Rose, they’re simply beautiful!”

“They’re adorable!”

“Wow, you’re looking amazing, Rose!”

Rose dutifully smiled and accepted everyone’s compliments, shooting James a wink whenever anyone congratulated her on their beautiful babies. It was a running joke between them that she got all of the praise for making their children, as though they’d magicked themselves into being rather than have any contribution from him.

Ainsley was the lone misfit of the party. She was too old to play with Sianin and her friends, but too young to be fully integrated in the adults’ conversations. As a result, she hopped between groups and often hovered by the twins, helping whoever happened to be holding them.

“No Sylvia today?”

Rose looked over at her husband’s voice, not realizing new guests had arrived.

Donna, Lee—who was holding little Joshua—and Wilf stepped into the foyer. Rose went over to greet them with a hug and kiss apiece, including a raspberry for Joshua.

“Mum was indisposed,” Donna said, giving Rose a meaningful look.

“Everyone’s in the living room,” Rose said. “The pizza should be here soon, but there are nibbles to pick at in the meantime. Drinks are in the kitchen; Donna, want to lend me a hand?”

Donna gladly followed Rose into the kitchen and away from prying ears.

“Indisposed, eh?” Rose asked when they were alone.

Donna went to a bottle of wine, pouring some into a paper cup.

“We sort of… had a falling out,” Donna admitted once she drained half the cup in one go. Rose stayed silent, letting Donna gather her thoughts and continue her story, if she wanted. “Lee and I decided we want another baby.”

“That’s exciting!”

“Thanks. Mum didn’t think so. Joshua’s a little bit… behind the other kids his age,” Donna admitted, her cheeks turning pink. “Developmentally. The doctors said it’s nothing to be too concerned about yet. But he’s nearly two and hasn’t started walking yet. And because he isn’t walking, we can’t even think about preparing to toilet train him.”

“He’ll get there,” Rose assured. “And toilet training is a long way off. He’s not even two yet.”

“That what I’ve been saying, but Mum thinks Lee and I are doing Joshua a disservice by trying to have another baby when we’re… what did she say?” Donna frowned and stared off into the distance while she tried to remember. “Oh! When we’re neglecting the child we already have.”

Rose gasped, a combination of sympathy and anger bubbling up within her. “Oh, Donna.”

“Yeah. So now of course I’m worrying that maybe Mum’s right, and that we should try to get Joshua the help he needs before our lives are thrown into chaos from a new baby.”

“But you said the doctors weren’t concerned, so what help does he need?” Rose asked, puzzled.

“Exactly! I dunno, Rose. This is all so hard. I’m terrified I’m not doing the right thing for my child. But what more can Lee or I do? We have him in nursery, so he gets socialized with other kids his age and is with professional childcare experts. And when we come home, it’s not like we ignore him or anything. We play with him, we read to him, we try and get him to want to walk, but he absolutely refuses. He screams his little head off and starts crying for us to pick him up. Or he just happily crawls everywhere.”

Donna sighed and scrubbed her fist into her forehead. Rose stepped up and wrapped Donna in a loose hug.

“I love Joshua so much,” Donna whispered. “God, I love him more than I’ve ever loved anyone. But I just… want another baby before I get too old.”

Rose nodded, understanding all too well what the other woman was going through.

“Needless to say, Mum and I had it out.” Donna shook her head in dismay. “I told her if she wasn’t going to accept and support her grandson as he was, then she wasn’t going to have the privilege of seeing him at all. I’m not going to let her stand around and talk down about him where he can hear her. He might only be a little boy, but I’m sure he can understand more than we realize.”

“Good for you,” Rose murmured, rubbing a hand up and down Donna’s back. “I’m sorry about your mum though.”

“And I feel awful for putting Gramps in the middle of it. I feel like I’ve made him choose between his daughter and his granddaughter.”

Rose gave her a comforting squeeze, and once Donna had composed herself, they joined the party.

Their house was loud, hectic, and full of people—the twins handled it well though, considering this was their first time around so many other people. Rose and James ran themselves ragged, making sure that not only were their babies satisfied, but that all of their guests were attended to, especially Sianin and her friends. They appeared to be content to stay as a group and play together.

The family all tripped over themselves to have a turn with the twins. Rose hadn’t needed to change a nappy or comfort a crying infant all afternoon. Her mother and James’s dad in particular seemed to self-appoint themselves as the babies’ caretakers, and were often disappearing into the nursery with one of the twins.

“Hey Dad? We’re doing the cake soon.” Rose leaned up against the door frame of the nursery and found her father-in-law sitting in the rocking chair, bottle-feeding one of the babies. Hannah, she thought, but she couldn’t quite see her daughter’s face well enough to distinguish.

“I hope you don’t mind?” he said sheepishly. “James gave me a bottle out of the fridge.”

“It’s fine,” Rose assured. Because she breastfed, it was rare for somebody other than her to feed the babies. She knew Robert enjoyed the task though.

The sight of her nursing daughter made her breasts become tender. She would have to sneak away and pump soon. “I was just saying, we were about ready to do the cake. Did you want us to wait for you?”

“Nah, it’s all right,” he said. “I’ll join you when she’s done.”

Rose nodded and moved back to the kitchen, where she found James sticking six candles into the chocolate cake before sampling a bit of the peanut butter icing.

“I’m sure it doesn’t taste that different from when you made it last night,” Rose drawled, smacking at his hand.

“Well, you never know,” he said innocently. “A good scientist always performs an experiment to test that his hypothesis is still valid.”

“Uh huh,” Rose said dubiously. “Last I checked, scientists weren’t supposed to go around licking the science.”

“Oh… well… ehm…” James floundered for a few moments before turning away from her for the matches. “Is Dad coming? I set him up with Hannah and a bottle a few minutes ago.”

“He said to go on without him,” Rose answered. “After this, I’m gonna need to go pump unless I want my tits to start leaking all over the place.”

“Just not on the cake,” James said, pulling it away from her.

She swatted him halfheartedly, then went into the living room to let everyone know the cake was coming out in a minute. When she returned to the kitchen, James was touching a lit match to the last candle. The flame had burnt close to his fingers, and he hissed as he quickly blew it out and dropped the smoking match into the sink.

“Ready?” she asked, grabbing her camera off the kitchen island.

“As I’ll ever be,” he said, picking up the pan.

Rose guided him out into the living room, flicking the lights off as she did so. Sianin looked up excitedly at her and James as they approached and began to sing. As they sang, Sianin looked around the room at her family and friends before she stared into the flickering candles on the cake that James set on the coffee table in front of her.

Rose loved getting this shot, when the candles reflected in her child’s eyes and cast shadows across her face. If it wasn’t such a hazard, she would love to have fire in all of the photoshoots she did.

She took as many photos as she could of Sianin’s face scrunching up as she thought of a wish, then of her cheeks puffing up as she blew out her candles. The room broke into applause as she extinguished them all in one breath.

Sianin carefully pulled the candles out of the cake and licked off the crumbs and icing clinging to the waxy surface.

“We’ll all get some cake and ice cream, then we’ll do presents,” Rose said, carrying the cake back into the kitchen.

“You can go pump, I’ve got this,” James said, making a shooing motion with his hands.

Rose skipped up to him and pecked a kiss to his cheek in thanks.

When she returned, her breasts feeling much more comfortable, Sianin ripped through the multitude of gifts everyone brought for her. As soon as all the gifts were opened, she and her friends took over half the toys out of the packaging and began playing with them.

Rose sat back on the couch with a piece of cake and her camera. She took shots of all of the family as everyone began to wind down from the excitement of the party. The parents of Sianin’s friends would be arriving soon to pick up their kids, and hopefully that would entice the rest of the family to leave too. Being a party host was utterly exhausting and Rose was ready to have her house to herself again.

“Rose! Rose, come look! Quick!”

Rose lowered the camera from where she was about to catch a photo of Sianin and Ainsley. She turned towards her husband. He was sitting on the sofa with Maddie lying in the cradle of his thighs.

“She smiled at me,” he said. “I swear it. She actually, properly smiled at me!”

“Oh, don’t be stupid,” Jackie scoffed, even as she walked towards him. “She’s too little to smile.”

Rose rolled her eyes at her mother and had to bite her tongue to keep from reprimanding her in front of the other guests. She instead snapped a quick photo of James holding Maddie before she went to stand behind him. She draped her arms around his shoulders and looked down at their three-week-old baby who, as much as she didn’t want to admit her mother was right, probably hadn’t actually smiled at James.

“Do you want to smile for Mummy? Do you want to smile for Mummy? Or are you gonna be shy? No need to be shy, my darling, not with those beautiful big dimple-wimples and those lovely pink wittle gummy-wummies. Want to flash Daddy your gummy-wummies? Eh?”

Rose smiled fondly at her husband as he dissolved into his rarely-used baby babble. But then, as James started talking about her “big blue eyesie-wisies”, the baby’s lips quirked up and her eyes scrunched as she grinned.

“Oh!”

“Look at that beautiful wittle smile!” James crooned. “Maddie-Waddie has a beautiful wittle smile-wile, doesn’t she?”

Rose brought her camera up and, heedless of trying to get the perfect shot, began snapping photos at random, hoping that at least one would turn out well.

“Anybody would smile at your daddy’s silly voice,” Rose cooed. “Wouldn’t they? He sounds so funny, doesn’t he?”

“Yes he does,” James sang. “Yes he does!”

A crowd had formed a semi-circle around them, hoping to get a glimpse of Maddie’s first smiles. Everyone began making silly faces and speaking gibberish to try to be the next person to make a three-week-old baby miraculously smile; all they managed to do, however, was overstimulate her and send her into a whimpering fit.

oOoOo

Once all the partygoers had departed for the evening, the James and Rose collapsed in an exhausted heap on the couch. Everyone and everything was quiet. The twins had fallen asleep, and Sianin disappeared into her room with Ainsley to play with her new toys.

“We should clean up,” James mumbled, even as he rested his head on the back of the couch and closed his eyes.

“Mhm,” Rose agreed, sitting in a similar position. “In a moment, though.”

“Maybe two moments,” James replied.

They each dozed for the next hour, and when they awoke, they were groggy but somewhat refreshed. They used their rejuvenated energy to clean up the worst of the mess from the party.

They weren’t particularly hungry when dinnertime rolled around, but knew they ought to eat something more substantial than the snacks and birthday cake they’d eaten that afternoon.

“Ainsley, Sianin, are you hungry?” James called out as he moved down the hall. “We’ve got some leftover pizza.”

He leaned against the door frame of Sianin’s room; his daughters were playing with the multi-tiered toy car ramp that Jackie had brought as a gift.

“Girls, are you hungry?”

“A little,” Ainsley said, looking up at him. Sianin continued playing with her toy.

“Well, food’s in the kitchen,” he said, thumbing behind him.

When he returned, Rose was sprinkling cheese on top of her salad as she nibbled on a slice of cold pizza. He scooped out his own salad and stole a bite of Rose’s pizza, earning him a smack on the shoulder.

A few minutes later, Ainsley skipped into the kitchen alone.

“Sianin not hungry?” Rose asked.

“She’s angry with you,” Ainsley said before putting a piece of pizza in the microwave.

James paused with his fork half way to his mouth; a bit of salad dressing dripped onto the table.

“What do you mean?” Rose asked.

“Sianin’s angry with you,” Ainsley repeated unhelpfully.

James looked over at Rose, who seemed just as puzzled as he was.

“Why is she angry?” Rose asked.

Ainsley shrugged. “Nobody paid attention to her at her party.”

“Sure they did,” James argued.

“Not according to her,” Ainsley replied, popping open the microwave door a second before it would have beeped.

James was utterly confused. Sianin looked like she’d had fun at her party; she played with her friends the entire afternoon.

He and Rose moved at the same time, setting down their forks and pushing away from the table to walk down the hall to Sianin’s bedroom. Their almost-six-year-old was sitting on the floor exactly how James had left her ten minutes ago.

The toy she was playing with had five car ramps that all circled around each other, and Sianin was using them to cause a massive pile-up in the center where all the ramps ended. James thought the various ramps were to race the cars against each other; leave it to his daughter to prefer making them all crash.

They knocked on her open bedroom door right as she made an explosion sound with her mouth.

Sianin looked up at them briefly, then returned her attention to her toy, resolutely ignoring them. For good measure, she even scooted further around, turning her back completely to them.

“What are you playing with, darling?” James asked softly.

“Cars,” she answered shortly.

“Looks like fun.”

“Yup.”

“Can Mummy and I join you?”

“No.”

James clenched his hands into fists, his nails biting into his palms. How had they not noticed before that Sianin was upset?

“Why not, love?” Rose asked, stepping into the room.

She crouched in front of Sianin while James sat on the bed behind his wife. Sianin shrugged.

“Are you angry with us?” James asked quietly.

Sianin shrugged again.

“What’s the matter, darling?”

Many long seconds passed before she grumbled, “I hate the babies. They’re stupid and take up all the attention. It was my birthday party but everyone only wanted to see them.”

James’s chest caved in on itself, snatching the air from his lungs. “This is the first anyone has seen the twins. It was exciting for them.”

Sianin continued on as if he hadn’t spoken. “And when I blew out my candles, Grandad wasn’t even there. Then everyone went to go see Maddie smile. How is smiling that big a deal anyway? Everyone smiles.”

“That was her first smile, love.” Rose’s voice shook slightly. “There’s only one first smile.”

“What about a sixth birthday party?” Sianin shouted. “I only turn six once but no one cares ‘cos the babies are here instead!”

“That’s not true…”

“It is true. Everyone wanted to be with the babies instead of me.”

“We’re sorry, darling. Truly. But your sisters are very little and…”

“You’re making excuses!” she screamed, angry tears beginning to leak down her cheeks. She swiped at her face and said, “I don’t want you here. Leave me alone!”

James froze on the bed, not knowing what to do. He wanted to stay and comfort his child, but he was the reason his child needed comforting.

“Sianin, we’re so sorry…”

“Go away,” she wailed. “Go away!”

Rose stood up and tugged James to his feet. Together they exited Sianin’s bedroom, and after they made it a few steps down the hall, they heard her door slam shut, making them both flinch.

“Shit,” Rose whimpered, digging the heels of her hands into her eyes. ��Shit!”

“What a mess,” James agreed, rubbing his hand up and down Rose’s arm. “We’ll let her cool off, then talk to her again.”

When they walked back into the kitchen, Ainsley was just finishing up her pizza.

“Told you she was angry.”

“Yes, thank you Ainsley,” James snapped.

Ainsley held up her hands defensively, then pushed back from the table to put her plate in the full sink.

“Can you help me load the dishwasher?” James asked.

“Don’t you want to finish eating?” Ainsley asked.

“Not very hungry. I ate too much at the party,” he lied. In truth, his appetite had been obliterated upon seeing Sianin’s distress. He dumped his salad into the trash and together, he and Ainsley filled the dishwasher to capacity then hand-washed the rest.

The evening passed slowly, with Ainsley and Rose reading on the couch and James pretending to read while his brain whirred frantically to figure out how to fix things with Sianin. Sure, a lot of the family had spent time with the twins, but they’d also spent time with Sianin, hadn’t they? And besides, Sianin had been with her friends for most of the party.

Unless she’d been with her friends so much because everyone’s attention was elsewhere.

Bugger, he said to himself.

James got through nearly fifty pages of his book without absorbing a single word, but finally it was time to get the girls ready for bed. Sianin was still in her room but playing with a different toy when he went to summon her.

“Sianin, bath time.”

“No. I don’t want to,” she said.

“Well, you have to,” he countered. “Come on.”

“I’ll do it myself,” she said, grudgingly getting to her feet. “Without you.”

“You can’t be in the bathtub by yourself,” he said. “It’s not safe.”

Sianin huffed out an annoyed breath, pushed past him, and marched to the loo.

“I’m gonna do it!” she said when he turned on the water out of habit.

“Sorry,” he said, turning it off.

He gestured for her to go ahead and turn on the tap and adjust the temperature however she wanted it. It took her much, much longer than it would have taken him, and he cringed as she stuck her hand under the stream when she had the dial set all the way to hot.

She yelped and yanked her hand away, then turned the tap to make it cold.

In the end, the bathtub was filled with water that was only tepid at best, but Sianin didn’t say a word as she stripped and lowered herself into the tub.

It was one of the most torturous bath times James had ever been a part of. Sianin was utterly silent and efficient in her movements, and she snapped at him whenever he tried to assist her.

“I’m trying to help,” he said defensively, setting down the shampoo bottle he’d been trying to hand to her. “Don’t be angry with me for that.”

Finally, Sianin finished bathing herself and stood up out of the now-cold water and drained the tub. Goosebumps prickled across her skin and she began shivering lightly as she pulled a towel around her body. Rather than dry herself off, Sianin hugged her towel tighter, a frown etched into her face.

“A bit chilly?” he asked gently.

She didn’t say anything.

“Do you want a warm Daddy hug?” he asked, opening his arms.

Sianin sniffed. “I can do it myself.”

“Of course you can,” he said. “But there’s no harm in getting a bit of help, too. Daddy will always be here to help his little girl, no matter what.”

Sianin glowered at the floor for a long minute before she stepped into his open arms. Her body was damp, but he pulled her close anyway. As soon as she was ensconced in his embrace, a violent shudder rippled through her body.

“My bath was cold,” she muttered sadly.

“I know,” he said. “You’ll get better at figuring out the right temperature.”

He held her in his arms for a few minutes, trying to warm her up. When her shivering subsided, he let her step away to dry herself off then change into pajamas. After she brushed her teeth, he followed her to her bedroom and dried her hair, but when he grabbed a book off the shelf, Sianin shook her head.

“I don’t want a bedtime story tonight,” she said, tucking herself further into her blankets.

“No?” he asked, his heart falling.

“No.”

“Okay,” he sighed. “If you change your mind, or want to talk, Mummy and I are always here for you.” He set the books back and stepped up to her. He kissed her forehead and whispered, “I love you, Sianin.”

“G’night,” she said, and she turned away from him.

James exited the room, pulling the door shut behind him. With a heavy exhale, he walked to Ainsley’s ajar bedroom door, and saw her sitting up in bed, reading.

“Did Mum read aloud with you?” he asked wearily, digging his forefinger into his eyes.

“Yeah,” she said. “Only a couple pages though ‘cos Hannah started crying.”

James stepped into the room. “Let’s finish out the chapter, eh?”

“It’s okay. You don’t have to,” Ainsley said.

“I want to.” And he did. Bedtime stories were one of his favorite parts of the night, and it killed him that one of his children hadn’t wanted one that night.

Ainsley scooted to the far edge of her mattress, giving him plenty of space to sit beside her.

“Is Sianin okay?” Ainsley asked, feathering her fingers through the pages of the book.

“She will be. She’s just a little upset tonight,” he answered. “Can you do me a really big favor? If she comes to you and wants to talk, can you listen? Or if she wants to sleep with you, can you let her? Let me and Mum know if it becomes a problem, but at least for the next couple of nights?”

Ainsley nodded, and he flashed her a small smile. “Thank you. Now, what’s going on with Harry and his mates?”

He lounged with his eldest as she read about the trio’s adventures with the Polyjuice potion. When she finished, he tucked her in, kissed her forehead, then turned off the lights. He pulled her door shut behind him, then made his way back to the living room.

Rose was sitting with the twins on the couch.

“That was the worst bedtime in the history of bedtimes,” he announced dramatically as he plopped into the seat beside her.

Rose pursed her lips in sympathy. “Hopefully Sian’s in a better mood tomorrow.”

“Yeah. God, I’m knackered. The party was exhausting enough, now our kid hates us.”

“I don’t think she hates us, James,” Rose said. “She’s just… upset.”

He grunted in reply. “Have we done something wrong? Did we not prepare her enough for having baby siblings?”

“I don’t know,” Rose admitted. “Let’s try not to worry about it too much now. There’s nothing we can do. Tomorrow, we’ll talk to her and see how we can help her adjust better.”

“Yeah. I wish we could’ve ended the day on better terms. This was supposed to be her day, after all. It was supposed to be fun.”

Rose didn’t say anything. She instead rested her head on his shoulder.

James pressed a kiss to her hair and stroked his fingers absently up and down one of the twins’ backs.

“Want her?” Rose asked.

“Please.” He slipped his hands beneath his baby’s tiny body and took her into his arms.

While his heart still hurt for Sianin, holding another of his daughters helped soothe the ache. The feel of her warm, solid body released a cocktail of hormones that loosened his taut muscles and attenuated his anxiety.

He brushed his lips across the top of her head, inhaling her fresh baby scent as he did so.

“Love you loads, my darling girl,” he murmured, kissing her again. “Which one are you, eh? Daddy promises he’ll get better at determining it.”

“You’ve got Mads.”

“How do you do that so easily?” he huffed.

“Well, I was the one who changed them into new outfits, and I knew Maddie was in purple while Hannah was in black,” Rose teased, knocking her shoulder into his.

James stuck his tongue out at her, but pressed a kiss to her temple.

“I love you, Rose.”

“I love you, too. We’ll get through this, James. I promise. We’ll figure it out.”

He nuzzled his cheek into her hair, taking comfort from her presence as they both lapsed into silence.

If you’ve made it to the end, consider leaving a comment or reblogging? I’d love to hear your thoughts.

#ficandchips #doctorroseprompts #dwfic #doctor who #ten x rose #ten x rose au #soulmates #soulmates au #james x rose #kid fic #family fic #baby fic #my fic #soulmates verse #perfectly matched series #family of six

28 notes · View notes