#(1744 words)

[scarlethexelove]

Heyyyy!!! " Growing family" literally is curing me lmaooo, ur so awesome sauce 🤠🙌

Could you make a part 3 where reader gives birth??? I would appreciate it smmm!!!

I hope you have a good dayy!!

Not As Planned

Pairing: Natasha Romanoff x Reader

Word Count: 1744

Warning: Shoulder injury, A bit angsty I guess, giving birth, angry reader, fluff at the end, Wanda coming in clutch

Pt 1, Pt 2, Pt 4

A/n: Sorry it took a bit to get to this and I hope you enjoy. I liked writing this and it honestly got longer than I was expecting it to be.

NO ONE IS PERMITTED TO STEAL, COPY, OR REBLOG MY WORK AS THEIR OWN

“Lizzie, sweetheart, can you come here please.” You call out to your daughter as you hold your stomach. You had felt off and more bloated today than normal. Pain started to slowly increase over time signaling you to the fact that you are going into labor. Normally you would have ignored it thinking that it was braxton hicks but you know better than that. The twins are coming now and you need to get to the compound quickly. 

Lizzie runs into the room with a big smile on her face that quickly drops when she sees your face contorted in pain. “Mommy what wrong?” You put on the best fake smile that you can. “Mommy is ok.” She shakes her head not believing you. “Mommy hurt.” You try your best to get down on her level. “Do you remember how Mommy and Mama told you that you are going to have siblings and that they are growing in Mommy’s tummy.” Your daughter nods her head and you smile. “Well your siblings would really like to meet you soon.” The little frown that once covered her face now replaced with a wide smile. “I can’t wait Mommy.” You can’t help but find her excitement heartwarming. “Remember how Mama packed a bag and left it by the door?” She nods her head. “Can you go get that for Mommy?” Without a word your daughter scurries away towards the bag that is most definitely as big as her. 

You pull out your phone but have to stop when another contraction hits causing you to gasp in pain and hold your stomach with one hand. “Fuck.” You mumble under your breath. As it passes you pull up your wifes contact and dial the phone. The phone rings through but she doesn’t answer. You let out a frustrated sigh before dialing again. “Damnit Natasha pick up the fucking phone.” You mumble as the call goes to voicemail again. 

“What does fucking mean Mommy?” Your head snaps to the direction of your daughter who has dragged the bag into the room. “That is an adult word sweetheart you don’t say that.” She thinks for a moment before nodding. “Otay.” You breathe a sigh of relief but not for long as you grunt in pain as another wave hits you. “Mommy!” Lizzie yells as she comes over to you. She does what she can to try and comfort you, following what she has seen Nat do for you in the past. As it passes you let out a breath that you didn’t know you were holding. “I’m okay baby.” You look at your phone and look for Wanda’s number quickly dialing it. 

The phone rings through before you hear Wanda’s voice on the other end of the phone. “Y/n what’s wrong?” Wanda sounds a bit panicked. “I’m in labor and my wife isn’t answering the phone, that's what’s wrong. Ah fuck.” You groan the contractions getting closer together. “I’m coming to get you.” Wanda says and you can hear rustling in the background as she hurries herself to get to you. “Wanda, where is my wife?” You ask as the pain passes once again. “I’ll be there in a few minutes.” Wanda evades your question. “Wanda you better tell me where my wife is or so help me-” Wanda cuts you off. “Don’t be mad.” You grunt. “Wanda I’m already mad.” Wanda sighs on the other end before speaking. “While training a new recruit who has enhanced strength she may have dislocated her shoulder. She’s in medical right now.” You can’t help but feel anger bubbling up. “I’m going to kill her and maybe that recruit too.” You mumble. Wanda does say anything as she drives as fast as she can to you. 

You take the to go bag and Lizzie’s hand as you lead her outside and lock the door. You have to press your sweaty forehead against the door as a new wave hits you. You hear as the car rolls up but you don’t move waiting for the pain to subside. “Y/n/n you shouldn’t be carrying that. You hear Wanda’s voice as she quickly makes her way over to you. She takes the bag off your shoulder and wraps her arm around you to support you. “Well when my wife isn’t here I have to do it myself.” You mumble as Wanda leads you to the car. She gets you into the passenger seat first before throwing the bag in the back and getting Lizzie into the car seat she has in her car just for her. She quickly runs around the car and gets back in before taking off towards the compound. 

Nat made you promise that you will have the twins at the compound and nowhere else. With Tony hiring the best medical staff in the world she wasn’t taking any chances by having you go anywhere else. You understood and thought it was for the best so you put up no arguments about it. 

It didn’t take long before you’re pulling up to the compound. Nat is waiting outside worry etched into her features and a sling holding her arm to keep from moving her shoulder. Wanda barely has time to stop the car before Nat is pulling open your door. She reaches out for you but you swat her hand away. “Don’t touch me.” You turn to get out of the car on your own Wanda coming up next to Nat before you're doubled over by another more intense wave hitting you. “Detka please let me help you.” You grunt. “This wasn’t the plan Natalia. You aren’t supposed to be hurt. How are you going to hold our babies if you can’t move your fucking arm.” She looks like a wounded puppy at your words and almost makes you forget about the pain. She knows that a part of it has to do with your hormones, the pain, but also your fear of her getting hurt. “Detka please. I can still help and it’s only for 2 weeks.” You shake your head and Wanda moves to help you out of the car. “You can’t hold a newborn with one arm, Natalia. You could hurt yourself more or worse yet one of our babies.” You know you’re being harsh on her but you're upset and scared; and your wife is injured when you need her the most. 

Nat doesn’t fight back. She gets Lizzie out of the car and does her best to sling the to-go bag over her good shoulder. You see how she struggles slightly as Wanda hurries to get you inside. “Natty please be careful.” Nat smiles as your mood changes slightly. While Wanda gets you quickly to the med bay, Nat has Pepper who just so happens to be visiting today to watch Lizzie. She then quickly joins you. 

The doctors are already getting you ready to push the pain overwhelming but it’s already too late to have anything. When your eyes meet Nat’s you give her grabby hands and she quickly joins you by your side. Her hand slipping into yours with her good arm. Wanda is about to leave when you grab her hand. “Where do you think you’re going? I need you.” You tell Wanda she smiles and settles in back next to you on the other side. 

The doctor settles in front of you with nurses moving around the room preparing for your twins arrival. “Alright Mommy and Mama are you ready to meet your babies?” You both nod and the woman smiles. “When your next contraction hits I want you to push. Can you do that for me?” She asks and you nod. It doesn’t take long before the next wave hits and you're pushing. It takes everything in you to keep pushing. Nat and Wanda encourage you and hold your hands as you continue to push. 

Soon the room is filled with the cry’s of your baby. “A beautiful baby girl.” The doctor holds her up. Tears fill your eyes as you look at yours and Nat’s daughter. You look up to Nat who has tears running down her cheeks. You look back to your daughter as she wails and her cry fills the room. One of the nurses took her away to get her cleaned up. You’re brought back to the fact that you still have one more baby to push out with another contraction. “Come on Mommy, let's meet your other little one. Push!” You do as you're told. Pushing and crying. Soon after more cry’s fill the room. The doctor once again holds up your baby. “A beautiful baby boy.” 

You’re now fully crying at your beautiful babies. Nat and Wanda are constantly telling you how well you did. Nat kisses your forehead letting her lips linger there. “You did amazing detka, I’m so proud of you.” You’re sweaty and tired but you feel nothing but happiness. “I love you Natty.” You mumble tiredly. “I love you too Y/n/n.” 

Soon your daughter has been placed on your chest while Wanda holds your son. Tears stream down your cheeks causing Nat to gently turn your face to look at her. She cups your cheek in her hand and wipes your tears with her thumb as she brushes it against your cheek. “Are you ok detka?” You give her a small nod. “I’m sorry I yelled at you.” You mumble your gaze falling. “No detka I should be sorry.” Your eyes lift to her emerald eyes. “It’s not your fault. I shouldn’t have yelled at you.” You nuzzle her hand. “Everything is ok moya lyubov’.” 

The room is silent for a bit as you stare down at your sleeping daughter. Your voice is low as you speak. “Thank you Natty.” She looks at you confused but your gaze doesn’t lift. “For what?” You let out a sigh. “For being here.” You can’t bring yourself to look at her. Nat knows exactly what’s going on. Your ex wasn’t there when Lizzie was born and you had to do it alone. She left the moment she found out you were pregnant. Your words break her heart. She brings your gaze to her once again. “I’m not going anywhere detka. I will always be here for you. For our family.” Nat leans down gently kissing your lips. Today might not have been how you planned it but it turned out just fine.

[teamatsumu]

Can you write a sakusa x reader smut with degradation, dumbification, choking, hair pulling, orgasm denial, breeding kink and praise kink with a dom Sakusa? (i'm a whore for this man) thx<3

his form of love. (sakusa kiyoomi x reader)

word count: 1744

warnings: fem!reader, smut, this is literally just porn, swearing, degradation, orgasm denial, literally all the stuff that was in the ask.

taglist: @keiva1000

He had been eyeing you all night.

And not in the usual way. Not how he looked at everyone else. Bored, almost apathetic, only half listening. No, he looked at you with purpose. There was heat simmering behind his dark eyes, eyelids sliding down to half mast when you met his gaze. His stare would run down your body, over the lovely black silk dress he had bought you for the occasion. He would follow the line of your throat, the nape of your exposed neck as your hair had been pulled up in an intricate updo. The daintiest golden chain surrounded your neck, matching with the earrings you had chosen to wear. And though his face was blank, his eyes spoke volumes.

He liked what he saw.

His hand found your thigh on the drive home, the steady heat of it becoming part of your skin. He made no other move, but this was enough. That hand came with a promise. You knew him well enough to know what he meant when he got like this.

‘I’m going to ruin you.’

He didn’t jump you as soon as the door shut behind the two of you. No, Sakusa wasn’t that kind of man. He was deliberate, always thinking, always contemplating. He had incredible self control, and he truly believed that patience reaped the highest reward. And so he carefully removed his shoes as well as unstrapped your heels, peeling them from your sore feet. With gentle hands, he rubbed at your soles and ankles, hand sliding up the skin of your calves. You shivered at the contact. Sakusa paid it no mind.

He helped remove your necklace, helped undo the various pins in your hair. He carded his fingers through the strands, easing them and the tight stretch they had been under all night. You took off his tie in return and brushed the black suit jacket off his broad shoulders, undoing the first two buttons on his sleek, white shirt. His firm grip on your wrist stopped you from going further. His eyes bore into yours. No words were exchanged.

He smoothly pulled down the thin straps of your dress off your shoulders, both at the same time, and let them hang off your arms. Stepping closer, he skimmed the faintest of kisses over your skin, the ghost of his lips barely there, and you let out a quiet sigh. His body had yet to make contact with yours, but you could still feel his heat, radiating off him and enveloping you as well. He finally let his lips press firmly to your skin, at the juncture of your shoulder and neck, and let them stay there.

“Are you ready, my love?” His breath hit your skin.

You nodded.

“You remember your colors?”

You nodded again.

“And what’s your color right now?”

“Green.”

He needed no more words.

His hands ran up your sides, the dress sliding under his grip. His lips became more persistent, nibbling and biting at your neck, leaving tiny little marks in places he would stop and suckle on the skin. You let your eyes fall shut, basking in his touch and his presence. Your hands ran over his massive shoulders, wanting to feel more of him. But you knew better than to tug on his clothes or attempt to take them off. Sakusa had a certain way of doing things, and in the mood he was in right now, he wanted you pliant and submissive, something you were more than willing to give.

He had you naked before him in seconds, your dress pulled down until it pooled at your feet, undergarments following quickly. You shivered under his gaze when he stepped back to admire you, his hands running up your bare skin. He tapped your ass, nudging you in the direction of the bed.

“Go. Hands and knees.”

You complied eagerly, positing yourself in the center of the bed exactly as he had told you. You heard him shuffling around, the sound of his clothes coming off, carefully placed on a chair. You waited patiently until the mattress dipped behind you, and his touch was back on your skin. You arched more, ass sticking out for him. He hummed in approval.

“So perfect.”

His hands massaged your ass, touch more firm and deliberate now. When his fingers slid through your slit, you felt yourself clench. Sakusa tsked.

“Already so wet. I’ve barely touched you, baby. You wanted me that bad?”

The question was rhetorical, but you nodded frantically anyway. Sakusa slid a finger knuckle deep into you in response. You let out your first moan of the night.

“So ready. I don’t think I even need to prep you. You’re so soaked. It’s almost pathetic.”

You whined at his words, clenching hard around his finger. You pushed back on him a bit, wanting more stimulation than this. You had been so patient, letting him indulge, but your mind was quickly fogging up, wanting nothing more than to feel his cock carve into your core.

You nearly gasped when Sakusa draped his naked body over your own, his weight pressing your shoulders down until your face was buried in the sheets, cheek squished into the mattress. His lips brushed over your ear.

“What do you want?”

You opened your mouth to speak, crying out when another finger joined the first one inside you, curling into the spot that made you see stars.

“Cat got your tongue? You were so eager a minute ago, pushing your ass into me. Speak up, whore.”

“Cock.” You gasped out, tears swimming in your vision as Sakusa’s fingers plunged in and out of you roughly. “Want- want cock.”

He hummed in reply, teeth sucking on a patch of skin on your shoulder. “Princess wants cock? Where?”

Everywhere. In my mouth, in my hands, in my pussy, in my ass. But you couldn’t speak, not when his thumb rubbed hard over your clit, the knot in your stomach tightening. Sakusa bit hard into your shoulder.

“Omi. Gonna cum.” You choked out, clenching desperately around him, feeling the knot in your stomach getting bigger and tighter.

“Don’t you dare.” Sakusa bit out. “Don’t you dare, slut. Didn’t even answer my question. You don’t deserve to cum. Hold it.”

Yet his fingers didn’t slow. His thumb didn’t stop abusing your poor, swollen clit. You screamed and cried, babbling that you couldn’t, that it was too much, that you were sorry, sorry, sorry….

Your vision blanked as you came, eyes rolling up and every muscle locking, squirming and thrashing under Sakusa’s weight, his brutal ministrations never once slowing as he pulled the intense orgasm out of you until you were overstimulated and dizzy, weeping in his grip. You whimpered when his fingers pulled out, but he didn’t leave you empty for long, the tip of his cock poking at your entrance.

“You didn’t listen.” Sakusa’s voice was low and calm, like he hadn’t just given you an earth-shattering orgasm. “I told you not to cum. And you did. Well, I suppose I should have expected that. I’ve always known you had no self control. Desperate little thing. Your cunt just can’t handle a good fucking.”

His cock started pushing into you then, making your mouth drop open at the stretch. It didn’t matter how many times Sakusa fucked you, his cock always burned as it entered your tiny hole. And you loved it. You moaned wantonly at the feeling. Long fingers tangled in your hair and pulled your head up, a sharp pain running through your scalp. You clenched at the feeling.

Sakusa set a punishing pace, cock ramming into you hard and fast until you were screaming out, fisting the bedsheets under you. His hips slammed into your ass with every thrust, heavy balls hitting your clit and giving you just enough stimulation to squirm under him. His You babbled and cried through it, words lost in the air and incomprehensible, but your boyfriend didn’t seem to mind. He encouraged it in fact, mouth right next to your ear as he talked, his soft curls brushing over your cheeks.

“Good little whore. Taking me so well. Fuck. You were made for this cock, weren’t you? Always getting all weepy when I stuff it in you. My dumb girl. My stupid little girl. Holy fuck-”

Whoever said Sakusa was a man of few words hadn’t seen him when he was balls deep in your pussy.

“You want my cum?” He choked out, pace getting sloppier. You knew he was also nearing his end, just as you were. “Tell me baby, you want it?”

You screamed when he hit your sweet spot, nodding the best you could in your position. “Omi- I…. Omi.”

He groaned again, face burying into your neck. “Gonna give it to you. Gonna empty all of it inside you. You’re gonna take it all and give me a baby in return?”

You arched impossibly higher, hole clenching tight as you came around him. Sakusa moaned loud and low, his grip on your hips bruising. A few more moments and several curses later, his hips were stuttering, cock twitching inside you as warmth flooded through your core. He shoved his cock as far as it would go, eyes squeezing shut as your cunt milked him for all he was worth. You panted, taking in big gulps of air as Sakusa finally stilled.

When he pulled out, you whimpered in protest, suddenly feeling extremely empty. Gentle hands guided you to lie down on your side, running down your waist and over your very sore legs. You sighed at the feeling, opening your eyes slightly to meet Sakusa’s.

His curly hair was a mess on his head, forehead shining with sweat and cheeks flushed. This was your first time seeing him since you had propped yourself on the bed, and you smiled up at his wild appearance. Normally so put together, so meticulous about everything he did, yet completely unbothered by the mess you two had become. Your heart squeezed when you realized you were the only person who ever got to see him like this.

“You okay?” He asked, making you nod and slide closer to him. He pulled you towards him in response, guiding your head to lay on his chest. You closed your eyes and relaxed into his hold.

“Love you, Omi.”

You felt a gentle kiss press to your hairline in response.

[wildemaven]

saturdays with javier : unconditional | javier peña

-> pairing: javier peña x f!reader

-> word count: 1744

-> content warnings: 18+ blog; soft smut, kissing, coffee consumption, lots of fluff, baby cows, mentions reader wears a necklace, zero descriptive features of reader, established relationship

-> notes: what was once known as Coffee, Cows & Cock. The final title nowhere close to that lol This was just another random thought and another excuse to write in some cute baby cows. Big thank you to @gnpwdrnwhiskey who not only coined the CCC title, but helped cheer me on and beta this as well!!

series masterlist / main masterlist

“Amor, it’s time to get up.” His voice is low and warm against your ear, mindful of the early hour and the way sleep is still so firmly wrapped around your listless self. 

“Mmm, Javi. It’s too early, let’s stay in bed a little longer.” You manage to say, turning your body towards Javier, where he is laying next to you on top of the disheveled bed sheets.

You’re not a morning person per say. At least not if you don’t have to be. Sleep is a sacred function, especially when your husband delivers mind blowing evenings night after night. Sleep is needed. You rise with the sun and start your mornings together. But on a rare occasion, you will wake while the moon is still shining dutifully, bidding it a farewell as you begin your day at an ungodly hour. 

“Against my better judgment, I’m ignoring your plea for more sleep, so time to get moving if we want to beat the sun. The minute we get back, you can crawl back under these covers— I might even join you.” His alluring words murmured against your bare shoulder, the softest kisses in their wake. 

You hold him close. Fingers tangling in his freshly washed hair, smelling of the citrusy mint shampoo you recently bought him— finally running out of his all-in-one bar of soap. He pulls back to look down where you’re still lying comfortably among the heap of pillows. Your hand settles on Javier’s cheek, the coarse stubble is rough and resistant as your palm rests against his cheek— he must have opted out of shaving at this early hour. 

“Promise you’ll join me when we get back and you have yourself a deal, Javi.” 

“Te promeso, mi amor.” His lips mold over yours, sealing his promise with the softest kiss. A promise he’s sure to keep, but he has other plans for the time being. 

Javier works well under pressure. Years and years of elaborate training and risky operations requiring quick thinking on the ground, has made him proficient in his ability to do things in a timely manner with exquisite detail and stunning results. 

Instincts thrum through you. Your body is well versed in the way your husband is capable of pulling you apart— even when sleep is still within reach. Giving yourself fully to his control and allowing yourself to feel every single breath, kiss and graze of his mouth over every curve of you. 

Bedsheets thrown from your body, the cool air of your bedroom is like ice on your skin— a devastating paired with the warmth of Javier’s body over yours. Your legs fall open, welcoming him, a silent plea for him to give you all of him— fully and completely. 

It’s astounding how Javier has the ability to bring you to life. His voice, all smoky and smooth, dances across your dewy skin. His nose pressed to your cheek. Praise pouring from him as he continues to worship you. Beautiful. Perfect. Amazing. 

Javier is all consuming. From the way he makes your toes curl to the way your leg muscles tense as he hits that heavenly spot within you, every bit of him is intoxicating. All you can think about is him— Javier, your everything. 

Before you’re even able to realize it, he has you both free falling. Bodies brimming with a satiated bliss. I love you’s exchanged silently as he kisses you breathless. His body vibrating and warm under your fingertips. 

“Mmm, that was just what I needed to wake up.” You humm against his plush lips. 

“I’m glad you’re feeling more awake.” He kisses you gently. “Time to get up and get this cute ass moving now. I’ve got coffee waiting for us in a thermos. Go get dressed, Amor, so we can get on the road.” 

*

Minutes after Javier has left to warm up the truck, you’ve managed to extricate yourself from bed. You quickly brush your teeth and wash your face, you’re throwing on a comfy pair of Levi’s, a Sherpa lined denim jacket over your thick thermal shirt, some wool socks and your well-worn brown boots. You make sure to grab your camera and a few rolls of film before you’re heading out the door. 

As promised, there’s a thermos of coffee waiting for you in the cup holder when you slide onto the bench seat of Javier’s old pickup truck. Javier is sipping from his own coffee as you settle in, then places it in the holder next to yours. “You’re too far away, Querida. Scooch over here.” He pats at the open leathered space between you. A gentle kiss to your temple as he pulls the lever down to drive, once you’ve reached the spot right next to him. His right hand settles between the warmth of your thighs and rests there as he heads in the direction of the ranch. 

There’s a comfortable silence in the cab of the truck. Your head finds a spot against Javier’s shoulder as you gaze out the windshield. The familiar road is still recognizable even under the dark morning sky. 

There’s a slight jostle, and the truck rolls to a stop. “Baby, wake up. We’re here.” Javier whispers, the arm you had been sleeping on coming up to wrap around your shoulder. 

“Sorry, Javi. I didn’t even realize I fell asleep.” Your eyes slowly open, your shoulders scrunching up to ease the ache in your back from the awkward sleeping position. 

“It’s a good thing you’re my favorite sleepy passenger.” His hand tilts your face towards him, his lips softly molding over yours briefly. “I’ve got to get the gate. Save my spot?” 

“Always.” You beam at him, watching as he climbs out and opens the large metal gate and entrance to the Peña Ranch. 

It’s not long before he’s back and the truck is heading down the dirt road. The headlights guide the truck to its final resting spot for the morning. Beneath the giant old tree that still sits on the back side of the ranch. The tree where you had exchanged your vows, now a regular visiting spot for the both of you.

It’s not nearly as dark as it was when you left your house. The sky now a light blue as the sun slowly starts drifting up over the hills. The light fog slowly burns off, making the pasture a bit more visible.

“How many are there now?” You ask in between another round of sips of your warm coffee. 

“Pops and I counted 10 yesterday. Wouldn’t be surprised if there’s a few more this morning.” He grabs for your thermos, having drunk the entirety of his while you were sleeping, you hand it over as you continue to watch the herd of cows in front of you. 

The newest calves joined the Peña ranch over the last few days and you had been begging Javier to bring you this weekend. In the distance you notice a few little heads pop up above the brush line, awake and ready for their morning milk. Their little legs still not quite acclimated to being earth side as they try to make their way to their mamas, who were enjoying tuffs of the dry grass as they waited for their young to join them. 

Pulling out your camera, you start snapping a few pictures through the window. The tree’s canopy perfectly framing above and the heard off in the distance with a wash of pinks and yellows as the sun finally crests the hilltop. Javier watches you take it all in, his elbow propped against the window of the driver's door, nursing the rest of your coffee. 

“This was worth it. Thank you for the early morning wake up and bringing me to see them.” You settle back into the seat. 

“There might be something else for you in the glovebox.” You sit up, turning to look fully at Javier who's got a handsome smirk on his face. 

“Javier. What do you mean there’s something else in the glovebox for me? I thought we agreed on no gifts this year.” You should have known he wouldn’t adhere to the agreement the moment he agreed to it. 

He gives you a nonchalant shrug and smile that makes you feel like you won the lottery with him— sometimes you can’t believe he’s yours. His arm draped casually over the back of the seat, his chin slightly raised and pointing in the direction of the glovebox.”

You open the small metal door on the truck dashboard. There, sitting on top of the truck's registration and insurance papers, is a small box. You grab it and sit back against Javier, before opening it. You look back at him again, his brown eyes filled with pure adoration and love for you. 

When you lift the lid, you find a small gold pendant and chain. 

“It’s a locket— it belonged to my Mamá.” He says, watching as you delicately remove it from the box. 

It’s a heart shaped locket, etched with intricate details of a flower. You turn it over in your hand, admiring it entirely. When it hinges open, you find a tiny picture of you and Javier on your wedding day already nestled into one of the slots. 

“It’s beautiful, Javi.” Wiping the few tears that have littered your cheeks. 

“I know how much you like that picture. I left the other one open for you to choose.” His hand rests at the base of your neck, thumb gently kneading over your skin. 

“Thank you. I love it so much.” You hand it to him so he can secure it around your neck. You tuck it into your thermal, where it perfectly rests next to your heart. 

You turn in the seat, your hand cupping the side of his face, you pull him to you for a kiss. His hand cradles the back of your head as the kiss lingers for a few minutes. 

“Happy Anniversary, Javi. Now take me home. I think someone promised to crawl back in bed with me.” He kisses you one last time as he turns the key and the engine comes to life. His hand settles back on your thighs, close just how he likes you. 

You don’t know what you did to deserve this life with Javier, to be loved so unconditionally by him, but you’re grateful for another year together and looking forward to many more. 

[anoutlandishfanfic]

Chapter 32: Departure

This chapter has been a long time coming. It's short, but there's more to come. Thank you to all of you who have stuck around and hello to all of you who are just discovering Metamorphosis. I truly hope you enjoy it and I cannot wait to bring you more chapters of this fic. 💙

You can find a master list of previous chapters here or this fic is also on AO3 if you'd like to read it there.

Enjoy! 💚

February 22nd, 1744; Afternoon. Claire.

The swell of angry voices grew to a thunderous pitch, drowning out any form of coherent thought. My heart lodged itself at the back of my throat as the floor beneath me creaked and groaned and harkened the arrival of my worst nightmare. 

Gritting my teeth, I lifted my head to face my foe but it was the midwife’s face that swam before mine. 

I frowned at her and shook my head in confusion as she motioned towards the babies. A hideous sound left my lips as she reached out and tore them from my arms. 

Jamie’s name twisted on my tongue, contorting into a desperate plea for help as I careened after her. My vision blurred as the tips of my fingers brushed against her skirts and I threw myself forward, frantically trying to grab hold of her. 

My head spun as I hit the floor. The impact stole the breath from my lungs, leaving me gasping for air. I could hear the men approaching, but I couldn’t move, couldn’t even breathe as they grabbed me and lifted me off the ground. 

The shock of their soggy clothes against my skin freed my reflexes just enough for me to strike out blindly. 

“Christ, Sassenach,” they cursed as my fist hit their nose. 

“Tis me!”

I froze, staring up at Jamie in surprise. 

He blinked rapidly for a moment before a half snort, half laugh escaped him as he commented, “I canna fault yer aim, mo nighean donn, but warn me next time, aye?”

I turned my face into his chest and promptly dissolved into a blubbering mess. Jamie’s arms tightened around me as I began to tremble from head to toe. A blanket materialized out of thin air and covered me from head to toe, but it did little to thaw the bitter chill that numbed my lips and immobilized my limbs. 

My eyes slid shut as he began to rock me back and forth. He bent his head, his lips moving against my hair as he apologized. 

“Forgive me,” Jamie repeated over and over, first in English before slipping into Gàidhlig. “Oh, God, Claire… please forgive me. 

He stroked my back and the familiar, steady movement stemmed my tears, slowly quieting the raging storm within my heart. I managed one deep breath and then another as my head stopped spinning. 

I heard Jamie speaking to someone and could feel the deep vibrations in his chest against my cheek, but couldn’t make out his words. Their conversation stayed out of reach as more voices joined them, swirling and swelling around me until I could no longer distinguish one person from another. 

A hand rested on my shoulder for a moment before Jamie shifted me in his arms, loosening his embrace as he eased me back into a more reclined position. I cracked open one eye to assess the situation and found the midwife kneeling beside me. 

“It is time to bring you to my home, my dear,” she smiled gently. “You have waited long enough.”

One of the babies was tucked safely in the crook of her elbow, now bundled warmly and ready for the journey. He began to cry and she bent forward as she brought his tiny face near mine. 

He stopped immediately as I kissed his brow and cheek. His eyes opened as he scowled at me and seemed to study me closely for a moment before sighing heavily. 

“Aye, a bhalaich,” Jamie chuckled softly. 

“I ken just what ye mean.”

[jazminrhode1]

"I Don't Love You Anymore" Matt Sturniolo x Reader One Shot

Summary: You bump into Matt a few years after breaking up.

Word Count: 1744 words

You and your hometown friends were at the mall. You hadn’t seen them since heading off to college and, as much as you loved being away and doing your own thing, there was nothing quite like coming home. The vibe was never quite the same in California.

Every time you came back, your parents were a little older, your brother was a little taller, and it was always a little harder to leave. So much time had passed while you were away even though it felt like no time had passed at all. You fell right back into life as you had always known it. Almost.

Since breaking up with Matt, you had dreaded coming back to Boston. The last time you left, almost two years ago, you didn’t think there was anything left for you here. If your memories of home were a jigsaw, there were a lot of pieces he had taken with him when he left.

Being back - being without him - felt like you were missing a limb. You could feel him everywhere that you went but, he wasn’t there.

Your friends were though. They had been a constant in your life since you were all in diapers and you couldn't picture a world without them in it.

As you strolled through the mall going from store to store, you were glad to be catching up on what had happened in their lives since you last saw each other. Taylor had won some smart-person award at LSU, Hailey had just gotten back from a humanitarian mission, Sophie’s high school boyfriend proposed at the end of the last semester and Jake met the man of his dreams on the streets of Baton Rouge.

You couldn’t help but feel like their lives were moving forward and you just kept falling further and further behind. Apart from good grades and a Bachelor’s degree you really didn’t have much to show for the last couple of years. Nevertheless, you were happy for your friends and they were the reason your world kept spinning after the breakup.

You and Matt had dated all through high school and you thought he was the one. Not only you but, everyone around you. He was kind, he was steady and there was no doubt in your mind that he loved you.

That’s what made the breakup so incomprehensible. You couldn’t understand how his feelings changed overnight. He never really gave you a reason as to why he walked away.

The one person that you trusted more than anyone in the world was the same person who broke you in an instant. Even after all this time, you replayed the words in your head, “I don’t love you anymore”.

As you stood in line at Starbucks, you couldn’t help but think back to when it was you working behind the counter. Most days after school your Mom would drop you off and you would take orders from strangers for hours. No matter how much you hated that job, you kind of miss it now. You missed simpler times.

You could hear your friends talking about boys and travel and kids you went to high school with. You chuckled under your breath at how quickly you all reverted to being teenagers when you were together.

As the barista called your name, a laugh you knew all too well cut through the air and almost made you drop your iced coffee. Taylor saw the color drain from your face, confused she asked “Are you ok?”

Your mouth went dry, butterflies swarmed your stomach and your legs could barely hold you up. “Can we go?” you whispered before you made a B-line for the exit.

You had to get out, you had to leave, you couldn’t bear to see him. You had dreamt of the moment you’d run into each other 10 years from now with your new husband and your shit together. Today was not that day.

Just when you thought you had escaped potentially the most humiliating, depressing encounter of your life, there he was walking straight towards you. And by ‘he’, I mean Matt. Chris was still cackling like a hyena in the Starbucks line.

You froze - panicked - your legs refused to move. Maybe he wouldn’t see you. Maybe he’d do the decent thing and ignore you but, you knew he wasn’t like that.

“Y/n?” he said when he finally looked up from his phone and saw you standing in front of him. He had changed, he didn’t have the ‘baby face’ anymore. He was so fucking hot, it made you sick.

Of course, you would have known this if you hadn't blocked him on every social media platform but, that was the only way that you knew how to move on at 17.

“I didn’t know you were back,” he said, snapping you out of your little daydream. When you didn’t reply he asked, “How are you?”.

There it was, the smile you missed so much. The same one that he flashed when he snuck into your room at night or when he saw you in your prom dress for the first time. It was the smile you thought would always be reserved just for you but, it wasn’t and that was the cruelty of a relationship like that - the same things that were so sweet at the time feel bitter now it’s over.

You couldn’t bear to engage in small talk and made a pathetic excuse to leave. If you were being honest you wanted him to chase after you but, he didn’t do that.

That evening you were sitting in your childhood bedroom wondering why you ever chose pink frilly bedding. So much had changed over the years but, this room was frozen in time.

“Y/n,” you heard your Mom calling from downstairs. You were not in the mood for a spontaneous movie night but, you did promise her that you’d spend more time with the family while you were home. You dragged yourself out of bed and slowly made your way downstairs.

She was standing by the front door that was cracked open. She didn’t say anything as she walked past you to the kitchen offering a reassuring smile.

When you opened the door, Matt was standing there underneath the dim porch light. Your heart began to race, you didn’t want to talk to him. You didn’t have it in you to hash out your past at this moment.

“Y/n…” he began. “I can’t do this…” you interrupted.

He looked confused, almost hurt. “Do what?” he asked.

“This…” you said, gesturing to the distance between you both.

“I just wanted...” he started.

“You broke my heart, Matt” you blurted out. You hadn’t said that before. When he said he didn’t love you, you didn’t say anything. Those were the last words spoken between you both... until this afternoon.

“I know” he whispered. Sadness washed across his face. “I’m sorry,” he said.

You couldn’t make eye contact. It was as though it was happening all over again. You wanted to throw up or pass out, you wanted the ground to swallow you whole.

“Why are you here?” you asked. You wanted him to leave. Rather, you wanted him to have never left but, you couldn’t re-write history.

“When I saw you today… Y/n…” he said with a quiver in his voice.

“Whatever you are going to say, don’t” you warned. You couldn’t hold back your tears and you didn’t care if he thought you were weak. You didn’t want to have this conversation 4 years later but, maybe it’s what you needed.

“I loved you,” you cried, “and you left me… And you never gave me a reason. And you never told me what made you stop loving me.”

“I never stopped loving you,” he whispered as his brows pulled together in a frown.

Your heart sunk. He broke it all over again.

“I didn’t want to hold you back,” he explained. “I knew you were going off to college and I knew I couldn’t go with you.”

“Not good enough,” you spat, “we could’ve made it work.”

“I couldn’t have done that,” he said as tears rolled down his cheeks. “I know it's pathetic but, I couldn’t have been away from you. Not for a second.”

“You couldn’t have got your shit together?” you argued, “For me?”

“Everything I ever did was for you,” he said.

“Liar!” you screamed. “You’re a fucking liar! None of this was for me. This was all about you. You couldn’t handle the long distance. After everything that we went through, you threw it all away when shit got too hard. And, for what? You don’t do that to someone that you love.”

He was silent. You could see the heartbreak in his eyes. You had struck a nerve just like you intended to do but, still, it didn’t make you feel any better. You said everything that you wanted to say and your heart still ached.

“I saw how hard it was for you to leave,” he started. “You were going to stay... for me. You were going to give up your whole future for me. I couldn’t let you do that.”

You bit down on your lip to stop it from shaking. You could hear the regret in his voice as he spoke.

“If at 17 I could have found another way, I would have,” he said. “I didn’t know what to do. I just knew that I couldn't stand in your way. I didn’t want you to regret not going to college. I didn’t want you to regret us... or me…” he sucked in a sharp breath and wiped his eyes on the back of his sleeve.

You couldn’t talk. You wanted to reach out to him, to hold him but, you weren’t strong enough to let go again.

“Y/n, I did love you. I do. I loved you more than anything. I just didn’t know how to tell you how much I wanted you to stay and I couldn’t bear the thought of letting you go again and again.” he said, “I know I broke your heart, Y/n... I broke mine too.”

He turned away from you and sat on the step with his head in his hands. He choked out a silent sob as his whole body shook.

This was unbearable. Maybe the way it ended was for the best. The thought that he was OK made it easier to handle than the mess sitting in front of you. You walked slowly toward the steps and sat down next to him.

“I wish you told me,” you said as he held you close. “I really didn’t know how” he replied.

[uwmspeccoll]

Shakespeare Weekend

The Dramatic Works of William Shakespeare with notes, original and selected, by Samuel Weller Singer, F.S.A., and a life of the poet, by Charles Symmons, D.D. was published in 1826 by the influential English printers Chiswick Press in ten volumes. The works are accompanied by sixty engravings on wood by Englishman John Thompson “from drawings by Stothard, Corbould, Harvey, etc.” Thomas Stothard (1755-1834) was a British illustrator and student of the Royal Academy who had a penchant for illustrating the works of his favorite poets. Over his career Stothard designed plates for pocket books, concert tickets, almanacs, and actor portraits, and had previously worked with Shakespeare editor Alexander Pope (1688-1744). 

Henry Corbould (1787-1844) was born into a painting lineage and also attended the Royal Academy. A devoted artist, he was well known for his book illustrations and was considered surpassed by few in his professional knowledge. Englishman William Harvey (1796-1866) was a preeminent illustrator, engraver, and designer who contributed works to many popular publications of his time. 

Stothard, Corbould, and Harvey provided the inspirational base of Thompson’s engravings and helped bring to life Shakespeare’s words. The engraved title vignettes provide a subtle context of characters and scenery to lead readers into Shakespeare’s world and contribute to the illustrative traditions of Shakespeare publications.  

Volumes Two and Three shown here contain Measure for Measure, Much Ado About Nothing, Midsummer-Night's Dream, Love’s Labour’s Lost, Merchant of Venice, As You Like It, All’s Well that Ends Well, and Taming of the Shrew. 

View more Shakespeare Weekend posts. 

-Jenna, Special Collections Graduate Intern 

[artandthebible]

Joseph Sold by his Brothers

Artist: Balthasar Beschey  (Flemish, 1708–1776)

Genre: Religious Art

Date: 1744

Medium: Oil on Canvas

Collection: Royal Museum of Fine Arts Antwerp

Description

Joseph was the second youngest of twelve brothers born to Jacob, who was called Israel. In Genesis 37:3–4 we read, “Now Israel loved Joseph more than any of his other sons, because he had been born to him in his old age; and he made an ornate robe for him. When his brothers saw that their father loved him more than any of them, they hated him and could not speak a kind word to him.” The same passage also discusses two dreams Joseph had that angered his brothers; the dreams indicated his brothers would someday bow to him. Joseph’s brothers also despised him due to their father’s overt favoritism toward him.

One day, Joseph traveled to check on his brothers while they were watching their sheep. His brothers plotted against him, threw him in an empty well, and later sold him as a slave to some traveling Midianites. Applying animal blood to his “ornate robe,” they returned home and made Jacob believe his son had been killed by wild animals.

In the meantime, Joseph was taken to Egypt and sold to the captain of the guard, Potiphar, as a household slave. Joseph was later falsely accused of attempting to rape Potiphar’s wife and thrown into prison. While in prison, Joseph accurately interpreted the dreams of two of Pharaoh’s servants, who were also incarcerated. Later, Pharaoh had a disturbing dream no one could interpret. One of the servants Joseph had previously helped then suggested to Pharaoh that Joseph could interpret the dream. Joseph was summoned from prison, and he interpreted Pharaoh’s dream in such a powerful way that he was appointed second-in-command over Egypt.

Pharaoh’s dream predicted seven years of famine. During the famine, Joseph’s older brothers came to Egypt to buy food. They did not recognize Joseph, now twenty years older, and he treated them harshly, pretending that he thought they were spies. Joseph kept one brother in prison until the others brought their youngest brother, Benjamin, back to Egypt to prove they were not spies. They brought Benjamin with them on a return trip, and, after a series of twists that included his brothers bowing before him—in fulfillment of Joseph’s dream of long ago—Joseph revealed himself to his brothers. They were shocked, yet soon glad to be reunited. Joseph sent word for the entire family to join them in Egypt until after the famine.

Later, when their father, Jacob, died, Joseph’s brothers feared that Joseph would take revenge against them for their prior treatment of him. They came to Joseph and begged for his forgiveness, appealing to a request their father had made before he died (Genesis 50:16–17) Joseph wept when he heard their appeal. Revenge was the last thing on his mind. Joseph said to them, “Don’t be afraid. Am I in the place of God? You intended to harm me, but God intended it for good to accomplish what is now being done, the saving of many lives” (Genesis 50:19–20).

[imagineanime2022]

Your Beautiful

Ayame Sohma X Reader

Word Count: 1744

Requested: @twilightlover2007

Request: I'd love to see Ayame with a plus size bookwormish girlfriend who is a little (or a lot) self conscious about what she wears and Aya will have NONE of that. Perhaps he designs a dress just for her to surprise her and make her see herself as he does. Please and thank you!!

Ayame had known you since you were in school, you never really crossed paths though, considering his more popular status and your more quiet disconnection from the popular scene. Ayame had always wanted to talk to you but never found the right time, everytime he shared a room with you people flocked to him and all he could do was watch you from afar. When you did talk to someone your eyes cast down to the floor and voice softer than silk. He watched you from afar as it seemed to blossom in your own environment, only catching his eye every now and again, eyes flitting back to the floor or book you were holding when you realised that he was looking right back at you.

Ayame remembered the first time that he was alone with you, you had both been paired for a project, you knowledge on the subject was immense and while you claimed that it only came from the books that you read, the fact that you had finished a book impressed him all the same, especially since at that age you wouldn’t find him sitting still for anyone. This was also the first time that he got an inkling for the way that you felt about yourself, he had at first assumed that you just didn’t like the uniform which was why you seemed so uncomfortable in it, and in most ways he was right. When you weren’t dressed in your uniform there was not that was shown off to the world, you covered your body in baggy clothes he assumed to hide it, though he never asked. Now he thought that those clothes were cute, he loved coming over to work on the project to see you curled up in the large oversized jumper, legging clad legs tucked under you and out of sight but he did look forward to the school days as well, those were the days that he could really appreciate the figure that you hide so often,

After leaving school he lost contact with you for a long while, that is until he opened his shop, he was looking for a supplier of fabrics and stumbled across your small business, he recognised you immediately if not for your appearance but the book tucked under your arm and the way that your eyes flitted to the floor the same as when you were both kids. “Still have trouble looking people in the eye it seems.” He joked, your eyes widened as you looked up at him. “You remember me?” You asked. “Of course, we’ve not been out of school that long, and he had almost every class together.” He reminded you. “Well no but, I’m no one important-” “Nonsense dear, you are just as important as the next person, not to mention you’ll be the one providing the materials I need for my shop… Can I count on you for that?” He asked. “O-of course.” You nodded. “Perfect.” He smiled softly “now could I trouble you to run me through what you have available at the moment?” “It’s no trouble.” You informed him as you ushered him through the shops going through everything that you had, what was easier to get and what was a little harder to acquire given your location, Ayame need anything further he pitched a partnership to get both your businesses off the ground, you accepted much to his excitement and that was where you found yourself now.

You made your way into his shop sample tiles stowed away in a small bag, he had informed you that he was working on a new project and all he needed was for you to bring over your favourite materials, you walked in at the same time as some other customers, one of them barging passed you to get to the counter, you stumbled slightly clutching the sample squares to your chest as you tried to balance yourself “Move.” She ordered. “S-sorry.” You mumbled stepping out of her way, falling back into an old habit of looking at the floor. “Why would you be here, it’s not like you could wear anything that Ayame makes.” The girl sneered as her eyes snagged on the sample squares assuming you were a customer. “S-sorry I’ll just-” “Now what is it that you are apologising for my sweet dove?” You jumped at the sound of Ayame as he stood behind you, when you didn’t say anything you felt him lean down “I’m talking to you dear.” You gave a small embarrassed squeak at the proximity before stuttering out an answer. “I-I, they are your customers you should see to them.” You finally managed to say, he looked at the girls and waved her away. “She’s no customer of mine.” Ayame answered. “You can’t-” “I won’t have you supplying materials for someone who treats you this way and I won’t be sourcing my materials anywhere else.” He explained. “Ayame you can’t-” “I can.” He answered firmly, the group looked at him in shock before being escorted out of the shop. “Ayame, they were paying customers, you can’t do that!” You scolded him, he just smiled down at you. “I own this shop, I can do what I want. I have enough paying customers to turn away those who don’t deserve my service.” He waved you off, dragging you towards the back room gesturing for you to sit on the sofa. “So show me what you’ve brought.” “I brought a couple of options, you know since you didn’t really give me any direction, who is the client this time anyway?” You asked. “That doesn’t matter, she has very similar taste to you, I think that she will love whatever you choose, so of these three which do you like the most?” He asked. You looked at the three samples that you had picked out, one subtle in design and colour, another a little more chaotic but still softly coloured and the last calmer in design but the colours were a little more flashy, you pointed to your favourite one and he nodded as he held it up. “I like this, this will work.” “Are you going to show me what you are working on?” You asked, he smiled and shook his head. “You will see it when it’s finished.” He promised “Now that the business is out of the way, how are you?” He changed the subject, stirring away from work and into more casual conversation.

It was a couple months later Ayame rushed into your shop, you had been restocking the shelves after an eventful first half to the day, you turned expecting a customer and some ways you weren’t wrong but when you looked at him you knew that there was something wrong. “Ayame are you okay? What’s wrong?” You asked, he reached behind him turning the sign on your door to ‘closed’ before pulling you into the back room, it was then that you realised that he was holding something. “Ayame?” “(Y/N).” He said as he turned to look at you, you frowned when you noticed the tears gathering in his eyes. “Your acting weird what’s-” You were cut off by him pulling you into a tight hug, it almost felt like he had been waiting years to do this but that couldn’t have been true, there was nothing stopping him from doing it years ago if that was what he wanted. “Ayame?” “I’ve waited so long to do that.” He admitted and that caused you to truly frown. “I don’t understand.” You decided that admitting it would be easier than trying to figure it out on your own. “I know, I’m sorry but just know that I’ve wanted to do this for years.” He said into your shoulder before finally letting you go, “I have something to give you.” “Give me?” You asked. “Mmm.” He hummed holding up the bag that he had walked in with, you took it from him and looked inside, you recognised the material as the sample that you had picked out months ago. “I thought this was for a client. Why are you giving it to me… Did they not like it?” You asked. “Take it out.” He prompted, you lifted the absolutely stunning clothing set out of the bag. The top was form fitting and the bottom to go with it would sit snugly on your hips and shoe off the shaping of your legs perfectly. “Do you like it?” “It's a beautiful set.” You answered. “Then they liked it, will you try it on for me?” He asked. “T-try it on?” You asked. “I know that you are going to look ravishing.” He said holding the set in front of your body as he rested his chin on your shoulder. “Even if you only ever wear it for me, know that you are safe to wear whatever you want and try whatever you want, I just want to see you.” “It won’t be as exciting as you think, I’m not like the other girls.” You answered and he shook his head. “I don’t want you to be like the others, I want you to be comfortable, I want to show you that are beautiful and you always have been whether you dressed down for a days work-” he pulled the outfit away from you to show you the outfit you were wearing “-or dressed up.” He offered you the outfit again and you took his from his hand walking to the bathroom to get changed. You cleared your throat when you walked out causing him to look over at you, the smile that split his face was genuine as he held up his phone snapping a picture before turning it to show you. “That’s me?” It sounded like a question even to you. “That’s you and you are beautiful.” He said softly, hugging you again “please give me the chance to prove it to you.” “You are doing a great job so far.” You smiled. “I’m far from done my dear.” He promised pressing a kiss to your cheek, he knew that he wasn’t going to change you overnight, you could tell by the way that he looked at you, he was proud of you for even putting the new outfit on and it was then that you decided that you would be happy seeing that look for the rest of you life, if he’d allow it.

Request Here!!

[fanfoolishness]

a rain that sounds like home (4/8)

After the destruction of Tantiss, the Bad Batch is safe at last. As Crosshair begins to recover from his injuries, it becomes apparent that not all of his scars are physical, and that guilt and grief are wounds that cut deeper than any blade. His family is determined to be there for him -- if only he can let them in.

Canon-compliant, focusing on PTSD, amputation recovery, and sibling grief, with plenty of whump, hurt/comfort, and emotional catharsis. Set shortly after the return from Tantiss and my fic Breaching the Wall. 43,000 words total.

Chapter 1 | Chapter 2 | Chapter 3 | Chapter 5 | Chapter 6 | Chapter 7 | Chapter 8

Chapter 4: Moving Day. Omega and her brothers move into their new home, but there are some stumbling blocks. ~5100 words, a Phee cameo, Crosshair & Omega POV.

---

Crosshair sat perched in the pilot’s seat of their stolen shuttle.  The cockpit was dark and close around him, unfamiliar and foreign, a different make than the shuttles he had been used to in his time in the Empire.  It took him a moment to find the comms.  When he did, he took a deep breath and flicked on Echo’s message, sent to his private channel.

Echo’s holo appeared from the chest up.  He’d found new armor, what seemed to be a combination of clone armor and stormtrooper gear.  He gave a crisp, military nod as the message began.  “Crosshair, Echo here.  Been working with Vik on this job with Rex.  He wanted to send his regards.”

Ah.  Vik.  CT-7243, as Crosshair had known him on Tantiss.  They had never been able to actually talk, but Crosshair couldn’t help but memorize the numbers of the other clones in the CX training unit, used when Hemlock mocked them for their failures.  Vik, like Crosshair, had resisted the training, even though it left him clearly weakened.  CT-8102 had washed out of training, his mind twisted, and had been diverted to other experiments.  CT-1744 had held out, like Vik.  CT-3392 had been a success --

He rubbed the scar at his wrist unconsciously, his heart rate speeding up for a few beats before settling back down.

“I’ll check this channel regularly,” Echo said.  “If you need to send anything privately.”

“If I need to,” Crosshair muttered under his breath.  Like Echo was expecting him to crumble, expecting him to be unable to figure things out.  He’d been through hard things before, and in far worse places -- the platform on Kamino, the icy wastes of Barton IV, the cell on Tantiss.  If he’d survived those, getting through a nonfatal injury with his family around him in one of the most beautiful places in the galaxy would be child’s play.  He wrinkled his nose, irritated that Echo didn’t think better of him.

“Keep at it, Crosshair.  Echo out.”  The holo flicked away into darkness, and Crosshair blinked.  That was it?  He sighed, leaning back in the pilot’s chair.

The door to the cockpit slid open, and Omega stood there in the dim lights from the rear cabin, holding Lula.  “I thought I heard something,” she said accusingly.

Crosshair crossed his arms over his chest.  “Shouldn’t you be asleep?  Big day tomorrow.  Moving in.”

Omega padded into the cockpit, the door sliding closed behind her, and sat down in the copilot’s seat.  She and Lula wore matching skeptical looks.  “Shouldn’t you be asleep?”

“Hrm.”  He looked away and out the viewshield.  “Tried it.  Then I remembered Hunter said Echo left me a message.”

“Everything all right?” Omega asked.  “We talked tonight.  He couldn’t tell us much about the new mission he and Rex were heading on, but it sounded important.”  She heaved a sigh.  “I told him we’re moving tomorrow.  I know he’s got to do what he’s got to do, but I still wondered --”

“If he might come back to stay,” Crosshair said.  He turned back to her.  “I’m sure he’ll visit in between missions.  Isn’t that what it was like before?”  He’d picked up that Echo had left the rest of the team well before things went wrong, and had been gone for a few months before he’d returned.  

“Yes, but things are different now!  Tantiss is gone, Crosshair!  We did that!  How come -- how come that isn’t enough for him?”  She let out a vast sigh, squeezing Lula.  “I’m not really mad at him, not anymore.  I know him, I know he can’t rest when things are so unjust out there.  I feel like that too sometimes.  But I also feel like I just miss him.”

Crosshair swallowed, then hesitantly reached out with his left hand, laying it on her shoulder.  He squeezed lightly, and she gave him a faint smile.  “Thanks, Crosshair.”

He let her go, then leaned back in his seat.  “So why are you awake?”

“I woke up.  Weird dreams.”  She didn’t elaborate, but instead ducked her gaze from him.  He noted it, troubled, but wasn’t sure if he should pry.

“Come on,” he said, getting to his feet.  “Get some rest.  Big day tomorrow.”

“Same to you,” she said sternly, but followed it with a warm, gentle smile as she stood.  “Shh.  Don’t wake Hunter and Wrecker.”

“I’ll do what I can,” said Crosshair.  “But no promises.”  He herded her before him, right arm brushing against her back.  He was heartened when there was no phantom pain, just the welcome sensation of guiding his smaller sister back to bed.

---

“You ready for this?”

Omega turned to look up at Hunter, taking a deep breath and nodding.  “I’m ready.”

Their front door slid open, and their home beckoned them in.

Omega skipped through first, heart pounding, stomach swooping.  The pack on her back jostled with her bounding, and she forced herself to step a little more carefully, remembering what she carried in it.  An enormous grin spread over her face as she looked around and her brothers set down the loads they’d been carrying.

It was small for a house, but massive for a shuttle or the Havoc Marauder.  A little entryway opened up into a simple living area with a prefab dining table, chairs, and a soft sofa.  The walls were bare except for a small inset alcove in the east wall, an area to display something.  She thought she knew what might go there.  There was also a small communication terminal installed near the table, easy to sit at if sending messages to Echo or anyone else.  

She rushed forward to the windows opposite the entryway, whistling at the view.  The wide windows revealed a little patio with green shrubs and a patch of bare soil, the rocky shore down below, and past that the sea, an azure ribbon glinting in the morning sun.  “Batcher’s going to love being closer to the water,” she said eagerly.  Batcher jumped up to look out the window, then gave her a slobbery kiss of agreement.  “Okay, okay, I know!”

She turned back to wander to the kitchen, mouth hanging open slightly.  “It’s all installed!” she said in delight.  

Hunter gave her a slight proud smile.  “We’ve been busy.”

The kitchen was cozy compared to Shep and Lyana’s, but quadruple the size of a ship’s galley.  Clean counters with room for real cooking, not nuking ration packs, stood waiting.  There was a stove, a cooktop, a conservator, all of them real-sized, not the efficiency-sized versions for military life.  “We’ll have to figure out how to cook,” Omega said. 

“That’s on you,” said Crosshair, raising an eyebrow.  

“We’ll see about that,” she laughed.  She moved towards the hallway, glancing in at the roomy refresher with an actual bathtub, when her eyes fell on the two doors at the end of the hall.  Excitement blossomed within her, but she forced herself to turn away from the hall and look at her brothers.

Wrecker stood in the middle of the living room, slowly turning with his arms spread, laughing to hear how his voice echoed in all the space.  

Hunter grinned at him.  “Look at that, lads.  We’re home.”  She’d never seen him look so happy, so unguarded.  The way the joy spread over his face made him look so young.

Even Crosshair wore a soft smile, looking from Hunter to Wrecker to her.  “Hard to believe it’s ours,” he said.  “But it is, isn’t it?”  He slipped a toothpick between his lips, rolling it back and forth thoughtfully.  He nodded to her.  “What do you think?”

“I love it.  It’s our house!”  She joined the circle they were standing in, looking at each of her brothers in turn.  She didn’t know what to say.  So she held out her arms, and they closed the circle, Hunter and Wrecker wrapping their arms around her, Crosshair squeezing her shoulder with his hand.  She closed her eyes, leaning against all three of them.  

They were safe, safe, safe.

“Maybe you should check out the rest of the house,” Wrecker said, sounding as if he was trying to avoid spoiling a surprise.  She pulled away from the embrace and nodded, her eyes bright.

She walked down the hallway slowly, reverently, her brothers following behind.  The starboard -- the right -- door opened for her, and Omega practically leaped into her room.

“Wow,” she said softly.  

They’d been in the house plenty before Moving Day, raising walls and installing things.  But she hadn’t seen what her brothers must have done yesterday while she was out with Lyana.  That was why Hunter had wanted to move in last night!  

They’d done so much.  A bed -- not a heated padded bunk, but a real bed with real handmade blankets -- stood in one corner.  There was a workbench with a small toolset all her own for if she wanted to tinker with tech or droids.  A colorful little rug of soft woven fabric from the marketplace kept the room cozy in yellow, her favorite color.  Several shelves were mounted and ready for Lula, or a dozen of her.  There was a whole dresser just for clothes, though the idea that she would have enough clothes to fill it was astounding.  Strings of tiny lights crisscrossed the ceiling, ready for nightfall.  

She slowly set down her pack on her bed, then turned around with her arms held wide, her fingertips still feet away from touching the walls.

“Wow,” she whispered.

“Like it?” Wrecker asked.  As she twirled around she watched her brothers enter the room, looking down at her with pleased, happy looks.  “I mean, I know it’s no gunner’s nest…”

“It’s perfect!” she gasped, charging forward and flinging her arms around his waist in a hug.  He leaned down to pull her closer, his huge arms closing gently around her.  “Thank you, all of you,” she said, pulling back from Wrecker and beaming at him, then Hunter and Crosshair in turn.  Even Crosshair grinned back at her.

“Well, what are you going to put in it?” Hunter asked her.  “We’ll have to get you a new bow, for one, but you’ve got room to expand now.”

“I don’t know!” Omega said.  “I mean I have my things, but… there’s so much space here!”  She opened her pack, pulling out Lula and resting her on her pillow.  Then she reached in, pulling out something wrapped gently in one of her spare shirts.  She hesitated, but it felt right to do this while it was just them, before the moving day party began.  

“What’s that you got there?” Wrecker asked.

“I -- I brought these, but I thought maybe they should be out there, where we can all see them.  It’s okay that I brought them, right?”  She folded open the shirt, lifting out Tech’s goggles.  “What do you think?” she asked, taking a deep breath.

Hunter’s face creased into something half like a smile, half like he might cry.  Wrecker sighed, nodding, a slight sad smile on his face.  A muscle in Crosshair’s cheek twitched, and his eyes darkened.  

“Yeah,” said Wrecker.  “‘Course it’s okay.”  He laid a hand on her shoulder, leading her back towards the living room.  “Let’s find a good spot.  Someplace he woulda liked.”  

Hunter stepped into place beside her at the end of the hallway.  “Maybe by those windows.  I think that’d be all right.”

“That’s what I was thinking, in the little alcove.  A place just for him.”

She turned around, looking down the hallway for her other brother.  “Crosshair?” she called.

He came out of her room slowly, rubbing the back of his head with his hand, his face gray.  Instead of joining them in the living room, he ducked into the refresher.  

She frowned, then looked up to Hunter for reassurance.  He laid his hand on her shoulder.  

“He needs more time, Omega,” Hunter said quietly.  “Come on, let’s see how these look over here.”  He led her to the alcove, and she carefully placed Tech’s goggles there, adjusting them so they sat straight.

“Looks good, kid,” Wrecker said.  He reached out to rub her back.  She nodded, her throat tight.  

The sun caught Tech’s goggles, and they lit up in golden-yellow, chromium gray, reflections playing over the walls of the little alcove.  They felt right, being there.  

It felt like Tech had come home with them.

---

So this was a party.

Parties were hard for clones to throw.  Difficult to have a party without an actual home, though he’d heard rumors of regs trying it in their barracks during lights out and getting extra refresher duty for their trouble.  But here they were with a real home around them, walls that belonged to them, and pockets of villagers standing around chatting, laughing, snacking.  It was an actual party, and it was choking him.

It wasn’t that Crosshair couldn’t appreciate what the villagers were doing.  They’d brought all kinds of things -- clothes in Omega’s size their children had outgrown, spare rugs, cookware, gifts of spices, even things like a painting of the sea and a woven tapestry to decorate the walls.  They’d also brought enough food for a week in addition to snacks and treats to eat today.  It was generosity on a scale he’d never imagined, and he was grateful for it.

It was just that there were so many people.

Laughter bellowed from the living room.  Mox and Stak were wrestling with Wrecker, while Deke stood by watching them, laughing uproariously.  “Go on, get ‘im!” he hollered, shaking his fist at his brothers.  Wrecker responded by picking up each cadet with one hand nearly by the scruff.  They scrambled to escape, trying their best kicks and grapples, but couldn’t come close to dislodging themselves from Wrecker’s grip.  He threw back his head and laughed.

Crosshair leaned against the hallway wall, teeth cradling a toothpick, smirking at Wrecker’s antics.  It wasn’t that long ago that Wrecker would still try to wrestle him down and pin him, which was a certainty if Crosshair couldn’t get away.  His long legs kept him out of trouble sometimes, but just as often Wrecker would catch him and crow, holding him down with as much effort as if Crosshair had been a tooka kitten.  

He sighed, shaking his head.  It wouldn’t be long before the cadets were nearly full-grown.  He’d spent some time with the boys before the Empire invaded, and since then the boys had grown several months’ worth of inches in the past few weeks.  It had seemed normal to him once, the rate they’d grown, what the regs had looked like at that age.  But now that he’d seen some of those kids from Tantiss, kids from around the island, the more and more he realized they’d been the strange ones.  All of them.

They had thought they were so different from regs then.

He gazed at Mox, and saw Rex and Cody.  He saw Echo’s face peering back at him from Deke’s.  He looked at Stak, and he saw Mayday.

These were brothers, just as surely as Hunter, Wrecker, Tech.  

He frowned.  He’d heard some of the cadets’ stories.  The boys had been from different batches, but each had lost the entirety of their batch or squad before finding each other.  They’d lost everyone.  They had seen terrible things.

But the cadets’ young faces still looked round and childish.  Shinies, all of them.  No scars, thick and fleshy at the temple, radiating starlike across the cheek.  No tattoos to mark a skill, a point of pride.  No blind eyes, no cybernetic implants.

No missing --

His stump brushed against his thigh, and he shuddered.

“Hey, Crosshair, want in on this?” Wrecker asked, letting the cadets drop to the ground.  “These guys are fierce!”  They bounced back to their feet, settling into combat stances with impressive scowls on their faces.  

“I’m good,” he said.  He lifted himself up from his leaning and wandered back to the bedroom he would share with his brothers, hoping for a little peace and quiet, but some kind of terrible racket was going on in there.  The left door opened for him and Batcher flashed past, hopping from bed to bed, chased by a howling, squealing tangle of island children in some kind of game.  Crosshair stepped out instantly and backed away, shaking his head.  Not an option, then.

Omega poked her head out of her room, followed closely by Lyana.  “Crosshair!  Tell them to keep it down out there, Lyana and I are trying to talk!”

“Yeah, is there some kind of battle going on out there?” Lyana asked.  The left door opened and Batcher came galloping out, a throng of children at her heels. 

“No, there is not,” said Crosshair, and strode out of the hallway before the kids could pass him.  He swung a left out of the hall as Batcher and the kids skidded out past him.  He let out a long breath, then rubbed at his wrist, his nonexistent hand clenching in ghostly pain.  He clamped down on his toothpick, grinding it between his teeth.  

He looked around the living room again, which was even more crowded now with Hunter, Shep, and the family that was fostering the Tarlafar baby from the lab.  The clone cadets had stopped roughhousing with Wrecker and were now discussing plans for some kind of island sport.  He glanced around at the walls, taking in the alcove in the east wall where Tech’s goggles now rested.  His eyes slid past them as if they were not there.

He slipped towards the front door, stepping out into the afternoon, and found himself on the patio in the sunny afternoon.

Their little patio wasn’t much, but it could be something.  There was room for a bit of furniture, a chair or two.  There was a sliver of shade from the house.  The patch of rocky soil lined with short beachgrasses was wide enough to stretch out on, and the whole little area was bordered by a ring of thick, lush green bushes up to his waist, glowing with pink flowers.  A short fence of dried beachwood at the edge of the bushes was just tall enough to lean on.  He rested his right arm on the fence, bracing it against the wood, massaging it with his left hand.  

He screwed his eyes shut, biting the inside of his cheek hard enough to taste blood.  The pain throbbed, an invisible vise grip coursing tidally up to his elbow.  He’d taken his medication this morning, but this was the hour between doses where the pain sometimes struck more severely.  He took a short sharp breath, then another, sweat beading on his forehead as the afternoon sun beat down.

Nothing’s there.  It’s healed.  It’s not real.  It’s in your head.

Like the tremors had been.

He shoved the fence away, breathing hard, anger flashing within him.  The rickety fence stretched backward, then swayed back into place still vibrating.  He glared at it, left hand curling into a fist, right stump held back.  His phantom fingers reached reflexively for a pistol that wasn’t there.  

“Argh!” he growled, now even angrier.  He paced in the narrow confines of the patio, ringing round and round, now counting paces back and forth.  Bigger than his cell on Tantiss, but not by much.  He counted them a dozen times before he slowed, coming to a stop again in front of the fence. The sensations in his arm had cooled and shifted back to nearly normal, leaving him spent.

He spat out his toothpick into the bushes and pulled out a fresh one, biting down until the ends splintered. He closed his eyes, worrying the toothpick back and forth between his teeth.

He wondered if a prosthetic would make these waves better. Maybe if there was something for the sensations to animate, they’d be less overwhelming.  He held out his stump, every detail writ large in his clear vision.  

A rippled sear of scar tissue, pink and roughly linear but thicker in some places than others.  The vibrosword blade had -- jittered -- when it hit bone.  The blow had chipped off fragments of some of the wrist bones, AZI had said, causing swelling and remodeling that was only now starting to improve.  All of it had left his right arm thinner and less muscular than the left due to disuse.

He sighed.  Would he feel whole with a cybernetic hand, mechanized fingers curling and uncurling, powered by gears and wires?  Would that fix him?  

He wouldn’t have to rely on Hunter to take care of his food for him.  Wouldn’t have to ask Wrecker to cut his hair.  Wouldn’t have to see Omega wearing that protective look of hers, every time she glimpsed his ruined arm.

But he wasn’t sure a new hand could fix the other thing.  The thing he didn’t have words for, the empty pit deep in the heart of him, the sleeplessness, the dreams, the way life felt so unreal these days.  He didn’t know what to call it, but it ached as badly as his arm.

“Hey there, Crosshair,” came a familiar voice.  He turned around.  Phee was carrying a crate, coming up to the front door.  She set down her crate by the door and edged past the corner of the house to the patio.  “You get lost on the way to the party?”

He stifled a faint snort of laughter.  She was sharp, he had to give her that.  “Not exactly.  Parties aren’t my… thing.”  He leaned against the fence, crossing his arms over his chest.

“Hm.  Can’t say I’m too surprised to see you out here,” she said.

“How’s that?”

“No offense, but I know being a sniper’s about more than just good eyesight.”  She drew herself up beside him.  “A good sniper’s at their best alone.”

Crosshair tilted his head in a brief nod.  “True enough.”

She smiled.  “Besides, I cheated.  Tech told me you weren’t big on crowds.”

”Or chatting,” he said, turning away, though his voice was without any real venom.  

“I can see that,” Phee chuckled.  “But hey.  Seriously though.”  He turned back to face her, and she saw her glance at his stump.  “You holding up?”

“Enh,” Crosshair said.  He ducked his head.

“Look.  I just wanted to say, I’m glad you all came home.”

He heard the words she didn’t say: This time.  He didn’t reply.

“All right, then… guess I’ll head in, since you don’t seem to be much for conversation.  You staying out here?” Phee asked.

“I -- wait,” Crosshair said, meeting her gaze.  She stopped, giving him a curious look.  “Thank you.”

“Thank me? For what?” Phee asked.  “Stopping by?  Checking in with you?  Just being a decent person?”

“For helping us,” said Crosshair firmly.  ”For Omega.”

She let him speak, her expression softening in surprise.

“We couldn’t have found Omega without your help.  If we’d been any later — or we hadn’t got Rampart — I don’t think we would have made it.”  His toothpick cracked in half, and he spat out the remnants, reaching immediately for another.  He rested it between his lips, biting down on it still harder than he meant to.  “So thank you.”

She gave him a bright smile, though there was a hint of something sad in it.  “Of course.  I love that girl, you know.  She’s special.  If I can do anything to help you boys with her, I’m there.”

He smiled quietly.  “She has that effect on people.”

She nodded, tilting her head as she looked closely at him.  “You know, I see the resemblance.”

He blinked at her, puzzled.  ”Well, we are clones.  We all resemble each other.”

She laughed, shaking her head.  “You and Brown Eyes, specifically.  You two were close, weren’t you?”

He went still.  We were, once.  But he couldn’t say that, not to an acquaintance like Phee, not to himself.  

“I heard the same about you,” he said instead.  

Wrecker had been the one to tell him, not long after the first escape from Tantiss.  Omega hadn’t even realized, but Wrecker told him Phee and Tech had been spending time together, watching the sunset, going on walks around the island.  Little things, but towering firsts for any of them.  Once he’d met her, Crosshair had seen why in an instant.  

She sighed.  “I wish — I wish there’d been more time.  We were just getting started, you know?”  She gave him a tight smile.  

More time.  

He could have been happy with her.  

But Phee and Tech hadn’t had enough time, Tech hadn’t had more time, and the weight of it pressed on Crosshair like a stone.

He swallowed, casting around to change the subject.  “What’s in the box?”

”Oh, this?  Just something I liberated.”  She brought back the crate to the patio, cracking open its sturdy lid.  “Not sure if you boys got to have toys back on Kamino when you were growing up way too fast, but turns out ships from the Grand Army of the Republic were pretty popular toys for younglings during the war.  I couldn’t get you guys a full-sized version, but I thought Omega might like this in her room.”  She pulled back the lid, and he peered down at a large model of a Marauder-class ship.  ”Not that it’ll be up to Tech’s specifications, but I think she’ll like it.”

Crosshair let out a long breath.  “She’ll love it,” he said with a chuckle despite himself.  “You ought to go give it to her.”

“Still trying to shoo me away?  You’re not exactly subtle.”  

He gave her a faint smile.  “No, not this time.  I just thought Omega would be excited.”

“I sure hope so!  Fine, I’ll head on in.”  She glanced at his stump, hanging at his side.  “But I was sorry to hear you fellas were hurt.  I know Tech said you were tough, but… that’s a hard blow for anyone.  I talked a bit with Echo about things before he left.  I’ll keep an eye out for prosthetics, too, if you’d like.  I got a lot of contacts, and if they can help you out…”

He didn’t want her pity.  Or her help.  But he thought of Tech here on Pabu beneath the weeping maya, maybe smiling at Phee.  He couldn’t even imagine it, and yet it had happened.  She’d been there for Tech; she’d made him happy.  And she’d helped them rescue Omega.  

He stuffed down his first response, a defensive no way in hell.  Instead he went with, “You don’t have to.  But… if you do see anything—“  He shrugged, gesturing around at the beautiful view.  “I’ll be here.”

”Fair enough,” she said.  “Now come on.  You want to see her face when I give this to her?”

”Yes.  I do.”

---

“Omega?” Crosshair said quietly.  She blinked, sitting up blearily.  

“Did I fall asleep?  Where are we?  Where is everyone?”

“We’re in the house, kid,” said Hunter.  “Our house.”  

“What about the party?” Omega yawned.  

“Everyone’s gone home,” Hunter said.  He knelt stiffly beside her, gently shaking her shoulder. She rubbed her eyes.  “Come on.  We should get you to bed.”

Wrecker stretched his back, preparing to reach down for her.  “I got her.”

“I’m not a little kid anymore.  You don’t have to carry me,” Omega said, still yawning, then broke into a tired grin.  She got to her feet, flinging her arms out in a big stretch.  “I’m going to go to my room.”  

Her eyes widened in delight.  “To my room!  There’s so much to do tomorrow.  I have to figure out the best way to show off the cool shells Mox and Deke and Stak brought, and where to put the jewelry from Lyana, and the ship from Phee, and my new clothes, and -- and --”  She broke out into sleepy laughter.  “I love all of this.  I love you, little brothers.”  She reached out, swooping Wrecker in a fierce hug, then turned to Hunter, throwing her arms around his neck.  He patted her, chuckling, and she turned to Crosshair.

He was ready this time.  It’d been the last thing he could have imagined once, Omega rushing to him, arms flung wide in a pure and emotional hug.  She’d known it was him, right?  But that night on the bridge he’d heard her weeping against his cheek, even through the rain, and he’d realized how wrong he’d been.

She reached out to hug him, and he hugged her back, cradling her briefly with his good arm.  He was getting better at this.  He closed his eyes for a moment, holding her close before releasing her, then bending down nearer to her level.

“Don’t stay up too late,” he scolded, half-smiling. 

“Crosshaaaaair…”

“What he said,” said Hunter, though a grin stole over his face.  Wrecker laid a hand on Hunter’s shoulder as they watched Omega pick up the model of the Marauder from the table and carry it back to her room, cradling it carefully in her arms.

“Well, ‘spose it’s our turn,” Wrecker said.  “What a day, huh?  Man, when Phee brought out that Marauder… I gotta say, I got a little misty.”

“I think we all did.  That was special,” Hunter agreed.  “Kid loved it.”

“It was good for her,” Crosshair said.  “And thoughtful as hell.”

“Phee’s just like that,” Wrecker said fondly.  He rubbed his eyes.  “Shoot, I’m almost as sleepy as the kid.  You two coming to bed?”

“Yeah,” said Hunter.  “Having half the village visit us was uh, a lot.  It was good.  But it was definitely a lot.”

“You can say that again,” Crosshair said.  “You two go on.  I’ll be there in a bit.”

Hunter gave him a look, and Crosshair suspected Hunter knew what he was up to.  He waited as they both headed down the hallway.  Once the bedroom door had closed, Crosshair sat down at the table where their communicator was mounted.  He stared at it for a few moments, the sounds of the ocean in his ears, then reached out and picked up a commlink.  He adjusted the settings to where he wanted to call.

Echo’s signal beeped on the holo, but it was the code that indicated there was only a message option.  Of course, he’d told Omega this was around the time he was moving out with Rex.  Crosshair stared for a moment at the beeping comm, wondering what to say, knowing it needed to be brief.

He took a deep breath.  “The new house is ready.  There’s room for you if you need it.  Omega still misses you.”  

He thought about saying, Maybe you should look around for something for my hand.  He thought about saying, This is a real home.  I can’t believe it’s ours.  He thought about saying, Sometimes the phantom pain reminds me of Tantiss.  He thought about saying, Do you remember being young?

He swallowed, thinking of Omega’s joy, her shining face.  “It was a good day.  Visit soon.”

He nixed the connection, and sat there blinking until his eyes cleared.

[nothingbettertodotoday]

Xavier Thorpe x reader (y/n)

Part 1 // Part 2 // Part 3 // Part 4

Word count: 1744 Warnings; underage drinking, drugs, smoking Author notes: once again thank you for all the love on part 1&2, both have just passed 200 notes<3 i wrote part 3 at 2am last night so sorry for any mistakes! drop me a message for any ideas! Summary: You are a poltergeist with the powers of invisibility (cloaking), levitation and pyrotechnics. You build a close friendship and spend the evening in his dorm to avoid the rain. The morning after you attend classes.

______________________________________________________________

The conservatory was warm and humid, not unusual. Miss Thornhill had the largest collection of deadly plants that you could find in the state, even if the plants were deadly it always smelt fresh, the air made it feel so easy to breathe. 

You headed towards your regular seat, next to Divina, however you noticed it was occupied by the one and only Bianca. You paused for a second, trying to figure out why your regular partner hadn’t saved you the seat, you then remembered what Xavier had told you just the night before. They had broken up. No wonder she had moved seats. Your eyes scanned the class, looking for an empty chair, the full class meant unfortunately there was just one spot left, at the very back of the class, next to Xavier. You dropped your bag down and pulled a seat up next to Xavier, you tried to ignore his smirk as you got out your uncompleted homework, you glanced at Xavier’s worksheet sitting next to you and started copying down a few answers. Xavier caught wind of what you were doing and pushed the pages over to you. You looked up at him, eyes meeting for just a split second, it was enough to send heat to your cheeks, the colour must be obvious to Xavier who was still looking at you.

The class was fairly simple, especially sitting next to one of the smartest students, Xavier didn’t show it often but his competitive nature made it easy for him to excel in his studies. You were dissecting a plant together, discussing the events of the night before, until you noticed a pair of shady blue eyes were piercing into you, Bianca. She scoffed and quickly looked away from the two of you.

Miss Thornhill ended the class, you started to gather your belongings, stuffing your books and pencil case into your bag. Xavier piped up “So a few of us are having a bit of a get together this evening, Bianca is going to be there, I was just wondering, do you want to tag along?”.

“Wow, Thorpe, is that how you ask me on a date? Even after spending the night with a girl?” you winked and started to walk out the class. 

Xavier rushed towards the door, struggling to keep up with you. You had a free period so headed to the quad, Xavier followed you out.

“Come on y/n, it would be great to have you there, it’ll be a laugh” Xavier pleaded. 

“What's it going to take to stop you nagging?” You sat on the edge of the fountain and looked up at Xavier, he smiled down at you.

“You coming with me tonight,” he replied.

“Fine, what time?”

“I’ll meet you outside your dorm at 8pm”, Xavier said, “Anyway you're making me late for class, see you tonight, wear something cute.” Xavier half shouted as he jogged away to his class.

The day went by quickly, your free period was followed by lunch, Latin (a few smirks from Ajax were definitely noted) and then an hour of fencing, before you knew it you were back in your dorm getting ready for the party. You turned your speakers up as loud as they would go as you sat on the floor in front of your mirror getting your makeup ready, you used much more makeup than you usually would, darkening your eyes, adding black eyeliner across your lids, and a slight shimmer to highlight. You chose to wear a pair of black ripped skinny jeans with a low cut strappy top, they perfectly matched your platform boots. You filled up an empty bottle with vodka to take to the party with you, it was nearing 8pm so you decided to head out.

Xavier was already there as you reached your meeting point, he had a few layers on, his iconic grey coat, a hoodie and a shirt paired with some jeans, you had to admit he looked very handsome. “You look amazing” Xavier greeted you with.

“Not too shabby yourself Thorpe.” you responded. 

Xavier draped his arm over your shoulder, just like the night before, as he directed you to the location of the party. Your surroundings were familiar, but rather than heading to any of the dorms like you expected you were walking across the quad, towards the Edgar Allan Poe Statue, you looked up at Xavier confused.

“Right, I probably should explain, there's this secret club, called the Nightshades, it's kind of a legacies only thing but I did some digging and you should be one of us”

“One of us, what do you mean?” you laughed at the idea.

“Well your mother was a part of the group, i'll show you later. Just take the pledge with us and you're in.”.

“God, Xav, sounds like you're making me join a cult.”, you laughed it off, but was secretly excited to see what was next. 

Xavier snapped his fingers twice outside the statue, and suddenly a doorway opened up. You thought it looked familiar, it did. You recognised the room behind from Xaviers drawing, a spiral staircase leading down to a library, the only difference that tonight the library was filled with students drinking and partying, the lights were low, but not dark enough you couldn't see, you glanced around at all the familiar faces there, Ajax, Kent, Bianca, Divina, Yoko and Rowan, as well as a few other students you had just occasionally seen around. Xaviers arm had dropped from your shoulders but now was sitting on your lower back, he guided you into the party. 

Yoko was the first to greet you both, handing over a drink to each of you, you took a sip and almost spat it back out, you could easily guess Yoko had gone a little crazy on the spirit. Yoko grabbed your hand and pulled you away, you looked back at Xavier as he was greeted by Ajax. You had a few friends like Ajax and Divina who you saw in classes, but this was really out of your comfort zone. 

Yoko took you over to a table of shots, where she, yourself and Divina had a few each, they both started to playfully interrogate you about Xavier, asking why you were suddenly sitting together, why did he bring you, and any other question about the non-existent relationship. 

You studied your peers at the party, deciding who to approach next, your eyes unknowingly searched for Xavier but you couldn't seem to find him, you settled on Ajax and Kent in the corner, they were both sitting on beanbags, clouds of smoke surrounding them. 

“y/n!” Ajax cheered as you approached, his eyes were glossy and speech slurred, Gorgon's had a stereotype of being stoners and Ajax was the living embodiment of that. You flopped onto the bean bag with them, taking a drag from the cigarette Ajax had offered you.

“Have either of you seen Xav?” you asked,

“Looking for lover boy are we?” Ajax said, sending himself and Kent into a fit of laughter, you pushed Ajax who fell off the beanbag, creating more laughs from yourself and Kent. 

You looked around again checking for Xavier, you found it weird he insisted you come to this party and was suddenly nowhere to be found, your eyes fell to the stairs where you had entered, you finally clocked Xavier, with Bianca. They were both smiling at each other.

“Let's play some games!” Yoko shouted and slurred, the group gathered into a circle, someone had suggested spin the bottle, as much as you protested you were forced down by the girls next to you, Yoko on one side and Divina on the other.

The bottle had already spun 4 times before it was your turn, at this point almost everyone had kissed, Yoko and Bianca, Bianca and Ajax, Rowan and Xavier, Kent and Yoko, the only odd ones left were you and Divina. It was your turn, you spun the bottle, you had already had too many drinks to even focus on who you wanted, you were just mesmerised by the bottle spinning. The crown erupted in cheers, it had landed on Divina, you turned to face each other both giggling, Divina put both her hands on your cheeks and pulled you in, you shared what you could only imagine was a very passionate kiss, and broke apart laughing. Divina and a few others went on for a few turns while you made yourself another drink, you didn't even know what you were mixing but it tasted delicious. 

Xavier snuck up behind you, grabbing your waist, you almost screamed and spilt some of your drink. “Come outside with me for a minute” Xavier whispered in your ear, he grabbed your hand and pulled you up the stairs, you were out on the quad and even with the amount you had drank you felt absolutely freezing as you stepped out. 

Xavier instantly noticed you pull your arms in closer, trying to keep your body warm, he took off his hoodie and put it over your shoulders, the smell instantly brought you back to the night before, reminding you of Xaviers warm, soft, bedsheets. 

“What are we doing out here Xavi”, you mumbled, “I was having fun” you dragged out your sentence. 

“I just needed to do something before I have one too many drinks and forget to”, Xavier cupped your cheek, the warmth from his hand made you want to melt into him, his other hand grabbed your waist and pulled you closer. Butterflies. Your stomach felt like a whole swarm had been released, Xavier used his hand to gently make you face him, he bent down and matched his lips to yours. Tingles passed through your whole body, you slowly started to levitate matching Xaviers height, both of his hands now sat on your waist pulling you closer. Xaviers tongue brushed against your lower lip, you opened your mouth slightly to allow him access, you moaned slightly, which made Xavier pull back. You lowered yourself to the ground and looked back up at him, he went in for another kiss but this time you gently bit his bottom lip, Xavier released a moan that was unexpected. 

“I needed our first kiss to be on our terms, not because of some stupid game,” Xavier whispered in your ear, “come on, lets get back inside before anyone notices.”.

[vicsnook]

Exile | Bob Floyd x Reader x Jake Seresin

word count: 1744

warnings: arguing, fist fight, blood, angst 

song pairing: Exile - Taylor Swift

notes: Hey y’all! This is part 2 of Wildest Dreams. The parts after this one will be divided by character since there’s an ending with Bob and an ending with Hangman. To try to simplify it, I will link under exile the parts corresponding to each character in my masterlist. Hope y’all enjoy and that this isn't too confusing! Don’t forget to like and reblog and thank you for liking and reblogging the past ones!!!

I can see you standing, honey

With his arms around your body

Laughin', but the joke's not funny at all

As Jake lowered you to the ground, Bob’s eyes scanned your every move. You felt your cheeks burning red and your heart was going a million miles per hour. The look on your face was one of a deer caught in headlights.

“Bob? What are you doing here?” you muttered as you walked toward him. His car parked on the other side of the street which explained why you didn’t notice him when driving into the neighborhood. 

“We need to talk. Unless you’re too busy.” He breathed out as he glared at Jake. You watch his fists ball up as Jake comes to stand behind you. 

“What is there to talk about Bob?” You ask coyly. 

His blue eyes piercing through yours so harshly make you feel small. Then he flickers his eyes to Jake with such hatred that you could only guess he already knows somethings up. 

And it took you five whole minutes

To pack us up and leave me with it

Holdin' all this love out here in the hall

“You know I begged to end my assignment early to come back to you?” He says, shaking his head. “I’ve asked about you for weeks since you can’t bother to respond to my calls. Just to come back and find you shacking up with fucking Hangman.” 

His fists balling up as your jaw tenses when he mentions Jake. Your mind is going at a million miles an hour. Unable to form a coherent thought before Bob speaks again.

“Nothing? Really, Peach? It hasn’t even been two months.” He spat and then raised his finger to point at Jake as he growled “And you, I thought you were better than that. I defended you to Rooster when you blabbed about his father and the second I’m gone you steal my girlfriend?” 

I can see you starin', honey

Like he's just your understudy

Like you'd get your knuckles bloody for me

“She’s not your girlfriend.” Responded Jake who had now moved to stand beside you. A fist instantly connecting to his face before he could react.

“BOB! STOP! GET OFF OF HIM!” you yelled as him and Jake were trading punches now on the ground. “PLEASE STOP!” you begged as you tried to pull them away which resulted in someone’s fist connecting with your cheek. 

You yelped in pain as your hand rose to your throbbing cheek and both men stopped fighting and turned to look at you with concern. “Are you alright?” said Jake as he cupped your face and examined your cheek. “I’m fine” you whispered, pushing his hands off your face and stepping back. 

You were my town

Now I'm in exile, seein' you out

I think I've seen this film before

“Both of you need to leave,”  you snapped as you headed for the front door. Bob and Jake on your tail as you grabbed for your keys. 

“I’m so sorry Peach, please hear me out. Please” begged Bob who was standing right behind you as you unlocked the door. Turning around you eyed his bloody face, noticing Jake standing not too far behind him with a bloody nose. “I think you’ve talked enough today Bob.” You say as his eyes plead for you to let him in and talk. “Y/N please” he begged, it was the first time he used your name in a long time. 

Jake watched you both intently. Waiting to see what you’d do. You wanted so badly to ice your cheek that would be for sure bruised by the end of the day. But neither men budged as you looked between them.

“You have 5 minutes. No more. Now go inside and clean your face,” you told Bob exasperated at the position you were now in. He nodded and you stepped aside to let him in. Jake’s eyes watching in disbelief. 

You stepped outside and shut the front door behind you as you made your way to where Jake was standing. “Listen, I need to talk to him. I don’t want things to get worse. I’ll call you, I promise.” you whispered, grabbing hold of his hand to get him to look at you. “I don’t think you should talk to him, Peach. All he’ll do is hurt you.” he replied harshly. “That’s not for you to decide, Jake.” you uttered as he let go of your hand.

 His head shaking in disappointment as he turned away from you and walked to his truck. You walked backwards towards your door, watching him peel out of the driveway and then you turned around to reach for the doorknob only to find Bob standing in front of you instead. Pushing past him you make your way inside and notice the bag of frozen peas he placed on the table for your cheek.

I'm not your problem anymore

So who am I offending now?

“What’s going on between you and Hangman?” asked Bob as you pressed the bag of peas to your cheek. Wincing at the coolness of it and the question he asked.

“I don’t owe you an explanation, Bob. We’re not together anymore.” 

“He’s our teammate, Peach and I thought my friend too.” 

I think I've seen this film before

So I'm leavin' out the side door

“It’s none of your business, Bob. If that’s all you came to say then I suggest you leave.” You reply in annoyance. The pain on your cheek worsens by the second making you shut your eyes. “What’s wrong?” he asks, hurrying towards you as you sit on the couch. “It's just my cheek. It’s nothing” 

“It’s not nothing. I’m really sorry, Peach. I don't know what came over me. He had that smug look on his face and I couldn't stop myself.” 

We always walked a very thin line

You didn't even hear me out (you didn't even hear me out)

You couldn’t continue this conversation. Not without talking to Jake first. “I can’t do this right now. Please leave.” You pleaded as the pain on your cheek increased with every word you uttered and the knot in your stomach had you on the verge of throwing up.

“I’m sorry.” He whispered, as he got up to walk to the door. Flashbacks of the night you confessed you liked him surfacing as he turned to look at you when his hand grabbed the doorknob.

So step right out, there is no amount

Of crying I can do for you

Your tears spilled as soon as he stepped out and shut the door. What the hell had you done? Your ex-boyfriend and best friend? or whatever Jake and you were, now caught up in this mess. 

The water in the shower was ice cold as you stepped in. But you didn’t care. Jake didn't answer your calls. On one hand it wasn't Bob’s business what was going on between you and Jake but if you didn’t tell him you knew he’d ask someone else from the squad and then everyone would want to know. The indecision came to a halt as your phone rang on the sink. 

But it wasn’t Jake or Bob. It was Nat. Which only could mean Bob had already told her. “Hello?” you said weakly as you pressed answer. “What the hell is going on, Peach? Bob’s face is all beat up and he won’t talk to anyone.” she said as you turned off the shower and wrapped a towel around you.

“I don’t want to talk about it Nat. I need to go.” you replied trying to hurry off the phone. “Bullshit. If you don’t tell me now, I’ll be at your house in 5” she replied, clearly displeased with your answer. “Guess I’ll see you then.” you said, ending the call and heading to your room to get dressed since you didn’t doubt Nat would be here soon. 

—

Nat sat across from you on the couch just as Bob did hours earlier. Eying the bruise on your face that you assured her wasn’t from Bob when she first came in. Truthfully you didn’t know which one of the men was responsible for it.

“Nat, please promise me that anything we talk about is strictly between us. You cannot tell Bob or Rooster or anyone else.” You said, breaking the silence. “I promise,” she replied.

“Okay, so as you know Jake has been around a lot since me and Bob broke up.” you started and went on to tell her everything that happened up until earlier today. The shock on her face was understandable. Squirming in your seat you looked away as the silence was very uncomfortable.

“Peach, I don’t even know what to say.” she said after digesting everything. “I don’t know what to do Nat. On one hand I know I don't need to tell Bob because it isn’t his business but whatever I choose it’ll hurt both of them.” you respond realizing you’d have to pick between them and either choice will affect the entire dynamic of the friend group.

“I think you need to tell Bob.” she says and raises her hand to signal you to stop and listen as you shake your head. “Whatever you decide to do you need to be honest because it’s going to come out one way or the other. It’s better if he hears it from you.” She finishes and looks at you waiting to see what you think. “Maybe you’re right” you whisper in response, looking at anything but her.

Your mind is still split on what to do as she heads out the door. You’re thankful that you at least spoke with someone but you still have no idea what to do. 

Checking your phone one last time before you try to sleep, you notice that Jake still hasn’t responded and that Bob texted to apologize once again. 

Tomorrow was going to be a very long day.

(Click here for the next part Bob’s Version)

(Click here for the next part Jake’s Version)

[soft-for-yoongi]

Fever dream Taehyungie. I read some fics with this and I'm hooked.

Choose whoever you like as the caregiver and whatever other sickness you want to add. I have no problem with emeto 💜

Fever Dreams, Hyung's Don't Leave (sick TH)

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

Sick: Taehyung

Caretakers: ot7, Yoongi, Jungkook, Seokjin

Tw: emeto, vom**, mentions of nausea, stomach pain, dizziness, fevers, nightmares, puking

Word count: 1744

Thanks for the request, anon!! I really enjoyed this, and I hope it's what you had in mind 🫶

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

Cold. Taehyung was so so cold. And... where are his hyungs? One second they were right there, and now it's all dark? They were with him before he got sucked into dreamland? But now he feels freezing and so... alone. "Hyungs?" Taehyung wants to reach out but his arms feel like lead and won't cooperate.

Shadows were growing around him and his brothers were becoming distant, his cheeks are wet with tears and he wants to yell for them to come back but the sounds don't make it past his throat. Did they really leave him?

"Taehyungie!"

He woke up with a sharp gasp, almost instantly dissolving into tears that wrack his frame. Yoongi is quick to pull him into an embrace, cradling his head into his chest. Despite the younger being taller than he is, Taehyung looks so small in the rapper's arms. "You're burning up, Taetae." Yoongi says, feeling warmth radiating off of the younger's skin.

"I'm c-cold... w-wh-where are the others?" Taehyung's head perks up, eyes wide and scared. The dream felt so vivid. "Hyungie, are they gone?" Taehyung suddenly tries to stand up, pulling away from Yoongi's grasp.

"Woah, careful." Yoongi rushes to help Taehyung and sits him back down with little effort needed. "They're okay, Taehyungie." He comforts, rubbing his back in circles. "I-I need to see them, h-hyung—" Taehyung cries, gripping onto Yoongi like a lifeline.

"Shh, okay. Let me get Jinnie and the others." Yoongi takes out his phone, frantically spamming Seokjin's number. All of Taehyung's weight is up against Yoongi and the flow of tears has him biting his lip in worry. "Yoongi-ah?" Seokjin sheepishly walks into the room, rubbing his eyes and taking a split second to register Taehyung.

"Oh, Taehyungie, baby." Seokjin rushes over, petting and soothing over his hair as Taehyung instinctively reaches for the eldest. "H-hyung... I thought you left me." Taehyung mumbles, breaking out in tremors and moving to wrap an arm around his stomach.

"Of course not, baby. Gosh, you're so warm. Yoongi, what happened?" Seokjin turns to the rapper. "He was dreaming, kept calling out for us and now he's got a fever." Yoongi explains. They both look at Taehyung with pity, thinking on what to do. "We have to give him some medicine, he's way too hot." Seokjin concludes.

"No—I need to see Jiminie a-and Namjoon-hyung—" Taehyung sniffles, hiccuping between words. Yoongi sadly rubs his back, turning to Seokjin. "Aw Taehyungie... how about we go to the living room and I'll get the others?" Seokjin offers, using his thumb to wipe away the tears. Taehyung nods approvingly, somewhat calming down.

They go on either side of the younger, helping him to the lounge. Yoongi flicks on a couple lights, putting them on the dimmest setting. Taehyung reaches for Yoongi and he gladly holds him on the couch. Seokjin starts off at the closest bedroom. Jimin and Hoseok's.

"Hoseokie? Jiminie?" He calls into the dark room, walking in to find the two curled in each other's embrace, both their beds pushed together. They start to stir after a few taps. "Sorry guys, Taehyungie is sick and a bit emotional. Can you both comfort him in the living room?" Seokjin explains in a hushed voice. It wakes them up and Jimin's eyes are already glistening with worry. "Of course, hyung." Hoseok replies. Onto the next bedroom.

"Namjoon-ah?" Seokjin hears the snoring cut off. "Hmmg..? Hyung?" The leader groans. "Can you go to the living room, please? Taehyungie has a fever." He says, gaining a hum as Namjoon swings his legs out of bed. And now, the maknae.

"Kookie?" Seokjin moves straight to the bed, gently rubbing over Jungkook's thigh. "Jungkook-ah." He tries again, making the lump roll over. "Taehyung needs you, Bunny." And that finally wakes him up. "Huh..? Is he okay?" Jungkook rubs his eyes, making a move to get up. "Fever, bad dream." Seokjin summarises, letting the youngest follow him back to the living room.

Taehyung is still next to Yoongi but Jimin is giving him a kiss on the cheek, Hoseok tying back his hair and Namjoon is standing nearby, not wanting to crowd the boy. "Taehyungie-hyung?" Jungkook says when he catches sight of the second youngest. He looks up from the couch and is visibly relieved. "You g-guys didn't leave?" Taehyung's lip quivers. The six of them butt in to reassure Taehyung, telling him they love each other way too much to even fathom the idea.

"Taetae, do you feel well enough to take some medicine?" Yoongi asks, all too aware of the sticky heat coming from the singer. He's still so out of it. "Mm.. I don't know." Taehyung pouts, "does anything hurt? Your ears, throat, head, stomach?" Jimin asks, kneeling down in front of Taehyung. "Tummy.. and my head feels dizzy." Taehyung concludes, just now picking up on the nausea washing over him in waves.

He shivers and curls up to Yoongi. "Hyung... I think I'm gonna throw up." Taehyung whines, face squashed into Yoongi's shoulder. "Aish–right now?" Yoongi looks to Hoseok for help, "I'll get a bag—" Hoseok dashes off, right as Taehyung moans in discomfort, chills going up and down his spine. Seokjin leaves to grab some towels and medicine. Namjoon and Jungkook take a seat on the other couch, talking to each other worriedly.

Hoseok comes back with a puke bag, quickly handing it to Taehyung who grips it shakily. "You're okay, Taehyung-ah." Yoongi starts rubbing up and down his back, sympathising when he feels his muscles clench and a dry gag escapes. Taehyung feels like he's on a merry-go-round, he's not enjoying it. Before he was cold and lonely, now he's covered in sweat, about to heave up his dinner. What a night.

He looks up from the bag, noticing Seokjin returning and all his brother's concerned faces. It makes him think back to his fever dream and a tear slips before a nasty heave takes over. It leads to a string of drool and acidic taste in his throat. Jimin uses his small hand to wipe away the tears, moving to sit next to Taehyung. "Let it up, Tae." Yoongi slips into daegu satoori, hoping to comfort the younger some.

Taehyung sucks in a deep, shaky breath before bringing up a mouthful of sick. It gets the momentum going and before he can relax, another bout exits him. "We're right beside you, Taetae. You're doing great." Hoseok comforts, looking away from the puke bag but also trying to support his dongsaeng.

Taehyung retches, spine curling over as he vomits. He feels so hot and sticky, tshirt plastered to his back. Seokjin uses a damp cloth to wipe Taehyung's forehead, holding it on as he coughs into the bag. "Namjoon-ah, can you get the thermometer please?" Seokjin asks, tone filled with concern.

"Sure, hyung." Namjoon responds quickly. "Ughh—my tummy doesn't feel good.." Taehyung whimpers, fingers still clutching the bag. Jungkook watches with sympathy. "Poor baby, Taehyungie. You'll feel better soon." Jimin rubs the 95's knee, Yoongi tracing along his back.

Taehyung doesn't feel like he'll ever get better. He would make another statement that he's dying, but a painfully dry heave cuts him off. It highlights just how empty Taehyung now is. But his stomach sets him off anyways, into endless (about 3) empty gags. "Tae-yah it sounds like you're finished. Wanna try relax a little?" Yoongi points out, slowly easing the younger's grip on the bag.

"Yoongi's right, Taehyungie. I'm sure Jungkook's happy to give you some company on the couch?" Seokjin smiles, and Taehyung swallows down a retch before weakly nodding. Yoongi manages to take the bag, making note to keep it away from Hoseok's general direction before disposing of it.

Seokjin and Jimin wipe down Taehyung's face, just as Namjoon comes back with the thermometer, holding it out. "Ah, thanks Joonie." Seokjin says, grabbing the device and hovering it over the second youngest's forehead. It beeps and reads, "39.1° (102.4°)" Seokjin says out loud, "shit. Taehyungie, you're really warm, how about we take your shirt off?" The eldest adds.

Taehyung nods, face blank and zoned out. "Arms up," Jimin helps take off the top, leaving Taehyung exposed on the couch. "Can I lay down with Jungkookie?" Taehyung looks up at Jin, then glances at the youngest. "Of course, Kookie? Is that okay?" Seokjin turns to Jungkook, who responds with a reassuring nod. Jungkook motions for Taehyung to come closer. With Hoseok's and Jimin's aid, Taehyung gets nestled on Jungkook's chest, both of them long ways on the couch. Jungkook has an arm tucked around Taehyung securely, while he listens to the soothing rhythm of Jungkook's heartbeat.

"Promise not to be sick on me?" Jungkook jokes, retracting the statement when Taehyung frowns sadly. "I'm sorry you're not feeling well, hyungie. You can throw up on me, that's fine." Jungkook kisses Taehyung's temple, ruffling his hair at the same time. At least that gets Taehyung to whimper-laugh, his body still isn't happy with him.

Before Taehyung lets himself drift off, he opens his eyes and scans the room. He sees five pairs of eyes staring back lovingly, the elder members smiling at the fondness between the two youngests. "Don't worry, Taehyung-ah. We'll be right here when you wake up." Yoongi hums, beginning to settle on one of their armchairs, letting out a huff when Jimin sits on his lap, but not making him move either. Fully reclining the other couch, Hoseok is comfortably squished between the leader and Seokjin.

"Okay, I love you, hyungs." Taehyung murmurs softly. He surrendered to the warmth of Jungkook's embrace, the presence of his brothers soothing him to not worry about any more dreams.

Hours passed and they slept semi-comfortably. Seven people in one living room was a lot. Slowly, Taehyung stirred awake, greeted by the gentle caress of Jungkook's hand on his head. Blinking away the sleep, he found himself still tucked up to Jungkook. "Hey there, sleeping beauty." Jungkook whispered.

Taehyung grinned weakly, "did I throw up on you?" He asked, voice raspy but amused. "Not this time, hyung." Jungkook chuckled. The lounge room was bathed in a morning glow, Taehyung noticed his other hyungs, still there and their expressions more relaxed. The worry he felt during his fever-induced dream was replaced by comfort, yes he was still uneasy but he now had some support.

"I told you we wouldn't leave, Taehyungie." Jimin chims in, perched on Yoongi's lap. "Thank you, Jiminie-hyung."

[ninja-go-to-therapy]

Defeated and Trophied

@badthingshappenbingo

Prompt: I would love to see your interpretation of Branch being captured instead of Floyd, like the original concept in the movie. Used for Defeated and Trophied.

Fandom: Trolls (Dreamworks)

Character: Branch

Trigger Warnings: kidnapping, torture, multiple mentions of death and being killed, though nothing graphic

1744 words

Fear was an old friend to Branch.

It had been a rare acquaintance back when he was a child — back in the days in which his biggest concerns had been thunderstorms and a dark room. 

From the moment he’d turned grey, it had crept its way beside him, a creature that would never grant him peace again. 

After all, no one else was around anymore to chase it away for him.

As he’d grown up, it remained consistently by his side. It was a constant voice in the back of his head, screaming at him to watch for bergens, boil the drinking water, always be ready for that which longs to kill you. 

Yes, fear was an old friend indeed. But he’d learned early on how to hold it close to his chest. One slip up and he could be devoured. 

So when he woke up in a diamond bottle, two massive creatures looming over him, he didn’t show his terror. He didn’t scream as he so wanted to, and most importantly, he would not resort to begging.

They were tall, comparable to a bergen in that regard. But where bergens were stocky creatures, these were lanky. Their skin was shiny and hard-looking, a far cry from the soft fluff of a troll.

Whatever they were, he’d never seen one before. 

His stomach churned with anxiety. Normally, he was knowledgeable enough to at least have some idea of what monster he may have been dealing with. But this… he didn’t know if these things wanted to eat him or worse. 

He knew what Poppy would do if she were here. At the thought of his girlfriend, his heart leapt into his throat. Was she here? Had they gotten her too?

No. He didn’t see her anywhere in the massive room. Thank god. He knew she could take care of herself, but the thought of her being trapped in a claustrophobic diamond prison left him with a bitter taste in his mouth. 

“Who are you?” He called out cautiously. He waited for a response, but the pair — one boy and one girl, he was pretty sure — hardly even reacted to the noise. 

They were both looking at the bottle he was trapped in, yet somehow they remained ignoring him. 

“Hey!” He yelled, quickly losing patience as he pounded a fist against the purple-hued glass. “Let me out of here!”

The boy looked at him (or rather, the jar as a whole, like Branch was nothing more than a pretty decoration inside) with trepidation. “Do you think it’ll work?” He asked hesitantly, like he couldn’t even hear the shouting. 

“Oh,” the girl said, scooping up the jar carelessly and sending Branch tumbling, the wind getting knocked out of him as his body knocked against the hard walls. “It will work.”

“What the hell!” He shouted, furious at the lack of acknowledgement. “Let me out! What do you want?”

With her free hand, the girl held up a small ball…? Examining it closer, though, Branch could see that it was connected to the jar he was held in, making it almost reminiscent of a perfume bottle.

What the hell?

He didn’t know what to expect, but the coming sensation wasn’t something he could have prepared for. All at once, a horrible pressure erupted from the center of his chest, like — like some invisible force was trying to get in.

Distantly, he could feel his body being lifted slightly off the ground, levitating no more than a few short inches. It was hard to even notice, through the agony. It didn’t get any colder in his prison, but he could feel the warmth being pulled out of his skin.

The pressure seeped from his body quickly, and he could almost feel it going right up and out of the bottle, being spritzed like a fine mist over the girl’s body.

As his body dropped down, thudding against the floor, he could hear her belt out a ridiculous riff.

“Wh…?” He coughed, pressing a hand over his heart from his new position on the floor. It felt like a part of his very soul had been sucked right out of him. He felt empty. What was going on? What was happening?

“Wow,” the boy said, reverent of the notes that had just come from the other’s mouth. “Let me try!”

“Wait—” Branch wheezed, unable to catch his breath before being subjected to this again. He tried to brace himself, but it did little to help.

It was almost more intense the second time around, and leaving him feeling somehow even more hollow than before. 

He was shaking from the cold by the time his body dropped back to the floor the second time.

“What are you doing to me?” He croaked, dizzy and freezing.

There was a malicious smirk on the girl’s face, the first thing finally directed at him. 

His heart pounded in dread. He was going to regret even asking, and he knew it. 

———

“He’s kinda cute,” Veneer said, shaking the jar slightly and sending Branch stumbling on unsteady feet back and forth. “Don’t you think so, Vel?”

Velvet glanced back at her brother from where she was touching up her makeup. “Not really,” she said, disinterested.

“Oh, come on, he’s like a feral little chihuahua!” Veneer said, proceeding to coo at Branch. “Who’s a good little troll?”

With the minuscule energy he had left, he glared as strongly as he could. “I will kill you,” he growled. As such a proportionately small creature that was barely standing and also trapped inside a sad little bottle, Branch couldn’t imagine that he looked very intimidating.

“Ugh, feisty thing,” Veneer whined, setting the jar down on a side table. “I don’t know why you’re so upset,” he said, “we take perfect care of you, don’t we? I mean, sure we have to keep you in a little jar, but it’s not like you’re dead or anything.”

“Your talent is being put to much better use on us,” Velvet chimed in, “You should be grateful! It’s not like you were using it for anything important. But thanks to you, we’re currently charting at number one!”

“Did you at least credit me somewhere?” he asked drily.

Veneer leaned over, stage whispering to his sister. “Should we have given him creds?”

“No, you moron! Ugh, come on, we’re going to be late for the photoshoot.”

———

Branch woke from his not-quite-sleep as he’d learned to get used to: by being jostled around like he was a fucking doll.

He groaned weakly, blinking his eyes open to the slightly sleep-blurred vision of a massive eye staring back at him.

After nearly two decades of anticipating a bergen around every corner, his instincts told him he was about to be fucking eaten. But he wasn’t quite so lucky.

“Oh, good,” who he finally recognized as Velvet said, completely flat, “it’s still alive.”

Had he the energy, he would have flipped her off… or something. But as it was, he just curled in on himself, wincing in anticipation. He knew what was coming. It was all the self-proclaimed pop princess (and oh, how that title made his blood boil) ever really interacted with him for.

“Just do it,” he growled, far from complacent, but simply desperate for the bad part to be done and over. He just wanted to rest. 

How long had he been here, now? Two weeks? Three? He’d completely lost track. 

Was Poppy looking for him? What had she thought when he’d just vanished into thin air? What if she gave up on him?

No. That was a stupid thought. He knew her better than that. On their first adventure together, they had literally seen Creek get eaten, and she’d somehow still been determined to save him. And, somehow, she’d been right. Of course, Creek had turned out to be a no-good traitorous piece of shit garbage man, but before that reveal, Poppy had been determined to get him back.

As hard as it was for him to fathom the idea that anyone would ever stay by his side as she had, he was always one to look at the facts. He knew she would refuse to give up until she got him back. He knew, no matter how long it took, she would find him.

As comforting as that was, it also left him feeling wary. Velvet and Veneer weren’t exactly the type that could be subdued by a hug.

He cried out in pain as his talent was drained from him, gasping desperately for breath. He didn’t have much more to give.

“You can’t…” he panted, gritting his teeth. “Can’t use my talent f-orever. S’not sustainable.” He said, snarky as he could manage through the bone-deep exhaustion.

“Oh no,” Velvet lamented, drawn out and dramatic, “whatever will I do?” With little warning, she tossed the jar to Veneer, who only barely caught it.

Branch didn’t have the strength to brace himself. Every inch of his body ached from being thrown around like this.

Velvet draped herself over her makeup chair, legs kicked over the arm of it. “If only I’d thought of that before,” she pouted as Veneer drained another dose from him, leaving Branch’s vision unfocused. “Oh wait! I did.”

“You did?” Veneer asked, apparently unaware of whatever his sister was up to. That seemed to be the common trend, Branch had noticed. 

“Yes, dummy. I told you this troll was a part of BroZone, remember?”

His heart sank at the mention of his br—his former brothers. What did they have to do with this?

“I forged a letter,” Velvet continued, “it will lure the rest of the band here to save their stupid little brother, and then,” her eyes glinted with greed, “we’ll have plenty of troll to keep us on top.”

A thousand bad memories threatened to overwhelm him at once. He could feel his emotions swirling in his chest, and for a moment he was certain he was going to vomit them up. Instead, he managed to scoff out a laugh.

“Yeah,” he said, forcing himself to remain flat and unemotive. If he’d done it for the better part of twenty years, he could do it now, even if he was slightly out of practice. “I’ve got bad news for you. There’s no way in hell any of them are coming for me.”

“Just wait and see, little troll,” Velvet said, confidence unwavering. “Just wait and see.”

[eventinelysplayground]

Birthdays Past & Present.

It's August 1 so a big Happy Birthday to the fourth Prince of Rhodolite, Leon! I got the idea for this and just ran with it so hope you enjoy. ⚠️ Major spoiler warning for Leon's main route if you haven't read it yet ⚠️. Also minor CW for sadness, those who know know. Leon and Emma travel to see someone on his birthday. Some sadness but also fluff, WC approx 1744.

The night was like any other at this time of year, cold and lonely. Curled in the corner the young boy in tattered rags examined the new cuts and bruises on his hands and arms. The door to where the slaves were kept and a few of the adults that had been kept working even later stumbled into the cramped and stifling room most immediately collapsing to the floor. Two men came and sat near the boy leaning their weary bodies against what passed for a wall.

“What a day, surprised more of us ain't dead from all that.”

“Hehe ya, great way to spend my birthday.”

The men let out soft chuckles, each not wanting to draw the attention of their guards.

“I'd offer you well wishes but don't think they'd do ya any good.”

More quiet laughter from the men as the young boy shot them a quizzical look, his aching body momentarily forgotten.

“What are ya starin at!”

One of the men called out to the young boy, clearly not appreciating the attention.

“Ahh leave him alone, he's harmless. Ain't ya kid?”

“Ye-yes.”

The second kinder man leaned forward and studied the young boy.

“You look like you got something t’ say.”

“Well, I was just wondering…what's a birthday.”

The men looked at each other for a moment before the second one gave the kinder one a shrug and snort.

“It ain't important kid.”

The young boy looked confused and he went to speak but the kinder man put his hand up to stop him.

“Listen to your elder ya? You're better off never knowing what a birthday is or ever havin’ one, less disappointment that way.”

“Oh, okay.”

The young boy took the man's words to heart and curled into himself until the pain faded enough to sleep.

Years later on a bright summer day a horse with two riders traveled near the border.

“How are you holding up Emma? It's not much farther but we can rest if you need to.”

Emma shook her head before looking up at Leon.

“No, I'm okay.”

Emma smiled at Leon and he placed a a soft kiss on her forehead. They continued riding for a while longer enjoying the scenery and summer breeze.

“Look Leon! I can see a cabin.”

Emma's voice was full of excitement at spying the little cabin. Leon laughed and hugged her close, he was happy she had agreed to come with him even though she knew it had the potential to be dangerous.

“Now all we have to do is find him.”

In the two years since the area had been forfeited by Obsidian and given to the former slaves a small community had sprouted. It was still dangerous and hard living but at least they were relatively safe and more importantly they were free. Leon was dressed the same as the day he had met Emma, not that it helped him much once they got deeper into the small village. Most everyone who had fought with them that day had settled here now and they had good memories. Truthfully though the casual attire was more for the journey there and home then it was for anything else, the former slaves all had a level of respect for the young King who had been one of them once.

After some short greetings and inquiries they arrived at a tiny home where an older man was outside chopping wood. The man looked up at the approaching horse blocking the sun from his eyes with his hand.

“Hello again.”

“Hello.”

Leon's voice was friendly and Emma's cheerful as they greeted the man who smiled before resting his ax on the stump.

“Well, aren't you two a long way from home. What brings you to a place like this, especially with the young lady in tow?”

“Officially we’re here on an inspection, check in on the village's progress and how its people are doing."

“And unofficially?”

Leon just smiled at the man as he dismounted his horse.

“Unofficially I'm here to see an old acquaintance.”

The two men stood studying each other for a few minutes before the older man laughed.

“Far be it for me to tell ya what to do with your time. Come on inside if you want but don't expect me to feed ya anything fancy.”

“That’s fine with me, I actually bought something for all of us.”

Leon moved now to help Emma down off the horse before grabbing the saddlebag and swinging it over his shoulder.

“You brought fancy palace food all the way out here?”

“Nope, everything I brought Emma or I made.”

Leon slipped his free arm around Emma's shoulders and held her close to him.

“I may not be as good as the palace chefs but I hope you like it and won't be too disappointed.”

The old man's eyes widened slightly as he raised an eyebrow.

“I bet your food tastes much better than anything those stuffy chefs could make.”

Leon couldn't help but smile at the faint blush that began to creep across Emma's face at the compliment. The older man ushered them inside where Emma laid out a small feast for the three of them.

Settling in with their meal it was a bit awkward at first with neither man knowing what to say exactly but it didn't take long for Emma to get a conversation going. They talked a bit about their lives after they had last seen each other but mostly they talked about the last two years. When the village really started to come together, how they had a sort of committee to make sure people mostly followed the rules. How every month more former slaves came to the area looking for somewhere to belong.

Leon, Emma and the man were leaning back in their chairs having finished off a great deal of food when Emma suddenly jolted upright.

“Oh we can't forget the cake!”

“Cake?”

Leon saw the man tilt his head slightly, clearly wondering if he would be able to stomach more food.

“Listen, there's something I wanted to talk to you about.”

“I knew it, what do you want this time?”

The man's face had fallen and become stern but Leon just leaned forward.

“I wanted to talk about something from a long time ago.”

Leon sat for a minute collecting his thoughts, although this had been his idea he hadn't planned out exactly what it was he wanted to say. In the meantime Emma had returned to the table placing the cake in the center before taking her seat again. Leon felt Emma's hand grab his and give it a gentle squeeze letting him know she was there for him.

“There was a night when we were both still slaves, they had worked us all damn hard that day, a few of us even dying.”

The man snorted.

“There were a lot of days like that.”

“Ya…”

Leon and the man both wore identical faces of pain and grief now.

“That night was the first time I ever heard about a birthday, you told me that I was better off never knowing or having one. After I went to the palace and had my first birthday I understood just why you said that. They weren't exactly happy, just a bunch of adults pretending to care really and I always felt really sad about it all.”

The older man's gaze was fixed on Leon as he spoke. He didn't give any hint of if he remembered the time in question through his body language or expression but somehow Leon knew that he did.

“After everything that happened, I wanted to come here today and tell you that I have a birthday. I've had lots of them now but these last two with Emma have been the most special, because I can truly be me. I wanted you to be a part of one of them and celebrate with me, for all the birthdays we never could before."

Leon squeezed Emma's hand that was still holding his as he waited for the older man to say something. He knew he may not take it well, he likely had more painful memories attached to birthdays than himself but he still had hope. Eventually the old man ran one of his large hands over his stomach.

“I dunno where I’m gonna find the room for it but I'll make it work, as long as it's a small piece. Happy Birthday to you Kid.”

Leon relaxed into his chair again while Emma practically beamed as she cut up the cake. Soon it was time to head back and Leon led Emma back to their waiting horse after saying goodbye to the now very stuffed man at his door. They had just left the small village behind when Leon leaned down kissing Emma on the cheek.

“What was that for?”

“For coming with me.”

“I don't need anything for that Leon, I was happy to come with you.”

“Even still, thank you Emma. You don't know how much it means to me to have you with me and supporting me, the real me.”

“I'll always be here for you Leon because I love you. And also…”

Emma shifted in Leon's arms and planted a quick kiss on his lips.

“Happy Birthday.”

“Oh that's not nearly enough.”

Leon grabbed hold of Emma's chin and kissed her over and over, each kiss becoming longer and more passionate.

“Mmm…Leon we need to…stop.”

Leon reluctantly pulled away from Emma, her face was flushed and her eyes sparkled with desire. He wanted nothing more than to ravish her in that moment but she was right this wasn't the place. If they picked up their pace though…

“You know, there's a town not too far from here. If we picked up our pace we could reach it pretty quickly and I hear they have a very quaint in. We could always spend the night there and get some rest or finish our celebration, what do you say?”

Leon looked down at Emma who was biting her lower lip.

“I say that we hurry.”

“You read my mind.”

Leon let out a loud laugh as he kicked his horse into a gallop toward the town looking forward to celebrating his birthday with the woman he loved in the best way possible.

[cricket-reader]

You’re Safe Now

Masterlist | A03 | Wattpad | Recommendations | Inbox | Taglist

Summary: Steve finds one of his teammates in a cell with lasting damage.

Warnings: language, conditioned whumpee, past abuse/torture, wounds, trauma, passing out

Word Count: 1744

Prompt: "Can you hear me?" | Starvation | Shackle | Hiding

A/N: Day 10 of June of Doom by @juneofdoom

Rusted bloody chains sat on the cold ground of a small musty cell. Mold grew through the cracks in the walls, spreading every time it rained. When it did rain, the water would leak through the cracks, forming puddles on the uncleaned concrete. The air was stale and cold. The putrid smell of coppery blood and mold was only made worse by the old, broken toilet in the corner that had long since been rendered useless. To the side was a rusted metal bed. It creaked and groaned with every slight movement, meant to drive any captive insane. The mattress was as thin as a yoga mat. The sheets had blood and dirt crusted onto it. The blanket was coarse and thin, offering no comfort from the chilly air that always permeated the room. It too was covered in grime

The hinges of the cell door creaked every time someone opened or closed it. Almost as if the door was nice enough to warn its inhabitant every time a person entered the space. There were newly installed fluorescent lights that still managed to flicker every once in a while. Almost as if the lights wanted to fit into its dismal surroundings. The new lights were a curse to the cell’s inhabitants. It revealed the crimson tinged bedding and floors that were previously hidden in the dark. It reminded the inhabitants of just how vile the cell really was.

In that cell, the most recent occupant was shackled to the wall. Although rusted and old, the bonds served their purpose. The chains were long enough to allow its captives room to walk to the bed and the toilet, though the latter was useless and had been so for years.

The captive’s name was Vanessa Vonmuiner, and she had been there for a month. Over the course of a month, her once silky, tame hair had become knotted and frizzy. Her skin paled to the color of paper and the amount of weight she lost from starvation alone made her look like a different person entirely. Her ever thinning face looked like life had been sucked out of her. Blotches of purple, black and blue decorated her frail skin, and scars that would never erase were etched into her body; a dreadful reminder of the horrors she endured that would last a lifetime. Newer cuts vibrantly stood out. The red color popped out in comparison to the pale color of her skin.

Her mouth was as dry as the Sahara desert and she ached for her thirst to be quenched. She knew she would always get water. It was just a matter of if she was good or not. During that cold winter night, she wondered what she had done wrong. Her captors had not visited her once. Not to give her water, punishments or food. Not that she was truly expecting to get fed. The men who held her captive had a system. They gave her enough food to survive, no more and no less.

The lack of proper nutrition made it easy to break Vanessa. Her body was weak, barely functioning on the rations they gave her. She felt like her whole body was a bruise. She was a “walking bruise” as she liked to put it. So, even if she wanted to fight back, she couldn’t. There was the case, however, that she wouldn’t fight back even if they fed her adequately. Who knows what cruel punishments awaited her if she fought back? She never wanted it to get to that point.

It was strange. She couldn’t remember a time that she had been left to her own devices for this long; not when she was good, at least, and for the life of her, she couldn’t remember how she messed up so badly they would leave her for one whole day.

The next day came and went with still no sight from her captors. It would be the third day, though she was none the wiser. The cell she was locked in had no windows. There was no way for her to tell if it was day or night. Usually she’d be able to tell when her captors would come in and give her food; without them, she was lost.

Just as she was about to lay down to rest her aching body, the ground shook. Reverberating sounds of shouting and gunshots could be heard all the way down in her little cell. Panic gripped at her chest as she made haste to hide under the bed.

Vanessa had never been down there before, and she never wanted to again. There was a foul smell that burned her nostrils, cobwebs tickled her mutilated body in the most unpleasant way. She didn’t want to stay in sight, though, so she stayed hidden. Absently, she hoped that there were no spiders hiding alongside her.

When the door burst open, it let out a shrill and deafening screech. Vanessa held her breath, not recognizing the heavy footsteps of the person entering the room. Her entire body froze when she heard the person’s voice.

“Is anyone in here?” The voice wasn’t the same as her captors. It was gentle yet still deep. He spoke with authority, yet he managed to sound gentle. It was nothing like the commanding tones that she was used to hearing.

Still, she didn’t know who this man was. She didn’t want to give herself up. How could she trust this person to be any better than the men she was captured by?

His heavy boots thudded against the grimy concrete as he neared the bed. Her heart was practically beating out of her chest. A hand entered her line of sight and tugged on the chains. Vanessa wasn’t sure if he did that to be cruel or if it was of genuine curiosity; whatever the case, it hurt. The metal rubbed against her raw wrists, making her whimper. She tried so hard to hold it in so that maybe this strange man would go away, but she was unsuccessful.

“Hello? Can you come out?” Once again, it sounded so gentle and kind. But she knew better. His question wasn’t a question. Not really anyway. It was a command. And she would be punished if she didn’t obey. She knew how things worked. Vanessa crawled out from under the bed. The concrete scraped at her elbows and knees as if she needed any more injuries to add to her beaten body. When she was out in plain sight, she prepared to be slapped or punched for hiding.

“Oh, god… Nessa,” the man said, “what did they do to you?” His tone sounded as if he had been punched in the gut. As if he had seen something truly heart-breaking. Vanessa didn’t realize it was aimed towards her state. She hadn’t had someone care about her in such a long time.

The man’s eyes looked over her small figure. Her arms looked as if they could snap like a twig and her legs weren’t much better. Even though she was wearing a shirt, he could see her ribs poking out. That wasn’t the worst of it, though. Perhaps the worst were the angry red marks that marred her skin.

“Let’s get you outta here, yeah?” The man reached towards her to help her up. Vanessa recoiled. Though she hadn’t dared to look at the man’s face, she saw the calloused hand that was significantly larger than her own. It was hands like those that had hurt her. Rough and brutal hands that only served to hurt. She didn’t even realize she was crying.

“Can you walk on your own, Nessa?” She didn’t know how the man knew her nickname. No one there used her nickname. No one except her friends called her that.

Not wanting the man’s hands on her body for as long as possible she said, “Yes, sir.”

Verbal responses were expected in situations like this. She knew it well. She also knew that she should respect this man no matter if he was a part of the men that had captured her or not. Playing it safe kept her alive this long, and she didn’t want to risk anything.

Vanessa stood up on shaking legs. It was as if she were a baby deer taking her first steps. The man had to hold himself back from catching her when she swayed on her feet. All he wanted to do was pick her up and take her far away. He heard his friends shout at him, “C’mon, Rogers, let’s go!”

She flinched again, but he wasn’t sure if it was because of the voice or the pain. With the most gentle voice he could muster, Steve told her that they needed to leave.

Vanessa wasn’t sure why this man was taking her or even where he was going to take her. He seemed familiar. The name she had heard one of the others call him was so familiar yet also so strange. She watched his boots move to the door and did her best to follow, she really did. Despite the ringing in her ears and the black spots appearing in her vision, she kept stumbling after him. Faltering step after step, she made it to freedom, freedom from that ugly, disgusting cell. A wave of nausea crashed over her as she strained herself to keep up with the man’s long strides. She didn’t dare tell the man, Rogers, that she was struggling to keep up or that she was feeling like this. She didn’t want to make him angry.

The dark gray hallway blurred into one cohesive unit. A blob of blue in the middle, which her delirious mind realized must have been Rogers. Before they got too far, Vanessa’s knees buckled and her eyes rolled back. She didn’t even register falling to the floor. She was even passed out when she hit her head on the concrete floor.

Steve noticed it too late. He heard the thump and turned around. Vanessa was lying on the floor, her head beginning to bleed, only adding to the blood that was already caked onto the floor.

He ran to collect her in his arms. Rushing to get her to the jet, he spoke to her. “Vanessa? Hey, please, please be okay. Can you hear me? C’mon, don’t leave me like this. Please, you’re gonna be okay, I got you, you’re safe now.”

[anoutlandishfanfic]

Chapter Thirty: Dhà

Hellooooo!!! Thank you so much for your patience as you’ve waited for this update. Life has been... an adventure, but its been really fun to come back to this. I may be a bit rusty, but I cannot wait to show you the rest of the (continuing) story.

You can find previous chapters HERE on Tumblr.

Or HERE on AO3.

{Dhà means two in Scots Gaelic... a second child... a second start at this fic. I thought it would be fitting.}

February 22nd, 1744. Claire.

The door slammed open with a mighty gust of wind, making me flinch and waking Brian from a sound sleep. He whimpered, then let out a full throated protest at the intrusion. Jamie’s face lit up as we heard the sound of a woman’s voice over his cries.

“Over here!” he leaned away from me, craning his neck to see the doorway without leaving my side. “This way!!”

My heart soared as she cheerily answered in French, “Hello! Yes, we hear you!!”

Jamie turned back to me and draped my arisaid a bit more modestly over my chest as I tried to soothe Brian.

The irony of my husband’s ministrations was not lost on me as this stranger was going to see a good deal more than my bare breasts if she was going to be helpful… but its welcome warmth had me sinking deeper into its folds, settling the baby and loosening the knot of tension around my heart.

The stranger appeared at the edge of our nest a moment later, followed closely by a second woman, and with Murtagh hot on their heels.

My gaze flew back to Jamie as he shifted, hesitantly positioning himself in front of me — even as we both knew just how much we needed her presence and guiding hand.

Let her be a help and not a hindrance, my soul whispered as a chill ran up my spine.

The woman’s face was weathered, her frame slight underneath her billowing, dripping cloak. She quickly assessed all three of us in a glance as she set her overflowing basket down and rid herself of her outer garments, rolling up her sleeves as she introduced herself.

“My name is Camille, my dear,” her gaze softened and my guard began to slip a bit. “Your father found my daughter and I in the market… May I see how we can be of help?”

“Please.”

The word tumbled from my lips in desperation before I could stem it and I felt Jamie tense against me as the woman took a step closer, kneeling about an arm’s length from my feet.

“Your baby sounds healthy and strong,” she nodded to Brian, her smile growing. “Shall I examine him?”

My words stuck in the back of my throat as the pull of another contraction began and I looked helplessly to Jamie, my mouth gone completely dry.

“He is well, but his brother is on his way,” Jamie’s hoarse voice betrayed his own emotions as he simply and swiftly explained the situation.

Understanding dawned at once and she inched closer as she began to ask a series of rapid questions –  none of which I heard.

The blood roared in my ears and the room began to spin around me as I fought to keep my head above the rising tide... to make out what the woman was saying.

I turned my head towards Jamie, my mouth opening and shutting again as the words stuck in my throat.

Help. me.

Great, black spots swam into my vision as hands suddenly reached out and tried to tear Brian from my arms.

“No!” I cried out as I clutched him even tighter against my chest, curling inwards as I tried to shield him.

My entire body began to shake… trembling from head to toe out of a panic that was quickly turning into a blind rage.

Get your fucking hands off my baby.

“Stop!” I tried again, gasping, and tried to find my husband in the chaos around me.

“Jamie!”

But it was Murtagh’s face that suddenly appeared before me and his warm, steady hand on my arm as he coaxed, “Much, a nighean… much.”

Blinking hard, I could finally make out Jamie just behind him. His face had gone completely white and he raked his good hand through his hair, standing it on end.

“Here,” Murtagh’s hand lifted and cupped the back of Brian’s tiny head, nearly swallowing him whole. 

“Give him to me, aye? He’ll come to nae harm… I give ye my word.”

I reluctantly nodded and loosened my grip on Brian as I shifted him against me. Murtagh opened his arms, eyes bright with unshed tears as he gently took him from me. Jamie murmured something in Gaelic to them both as he settled our son more securely in his godfather’s arms and sent them off into the shadows with a nod.

I began to tremble again as I lost sight of them, feeling completely unmoored and tossed about in a raging sea of pain without him in my arms. A mighty sob welling up deep within me and gained strength as it ran up my spine, bursting from my lips before I could stem it.

“Jamie.”

He surged forward and grabbed hold of my hand in an instant.

“I’m here, mo ghraidh,” he murmured low, squeezing my hand gently.

“Show me wha’ ye need.”

I tugged him towards me and he eagerly moved closer, slipping carefully into place behind me.

I turned my face towards his as he brushed away the curls that clung to the hot tears streaming down my cheeks and tried to gain a footing against him as wave after wave threatened to tear me in two.

He kissed me, then, long and hard. His spirit lifted mine, soothing and strengthening as slowly, ever so slowly, the tide that bound me began to recede. He kept his face close as I fought to both catch my breath and regain my bearings.

Jesus H Roosevelt Christ, I mentally spat as everything came crashing back into focus.

The absolute stranger at my feet… another perched on a crate at the edge of my view… Brian’s small noises from somewhere in the shadows… and the realization that this was happening a hell of a lot faster the second time around.

I slid my eyes shut with a hiccuping sigh and gripped Jamie’s hand even tighter.

“Aye, tha’s the way,” the rumble of his voice against my back and his reassuring words compelled the writhing mass of doubt within me to cease.

But it would not.

He registered this and let go of my hand, shifting me in his arms until he could see my face. Concern lined his face as studied me for a moment and his thumb stroked my cheek before he lowered his lips once more to mine, pulling all of the remaining tension from within me with his kiss.

I tried to settle against him and groaned in frustration as another contraction began, right on the heels of the last. I shifted listlessly in his arms, struggling to find a position that eased the pain in any amount.

“Here,” the woman’s hand rested on my knee as she moved closer, guiding me and helping me turn so that I could lean more squarely against Jamie.

I kept hold of her hand as my breath hitched and my eyes widened in surprise at the sudden strength of this new contraction.

Her face softened as she gave my hand a gentle squeeze before letting go and moving closer to me, settling herself into a better position to help.

My jaw clenched as I dug my feet into the mattress beneath me.

Bloody. fucking. hell.

… ...

Jamie.

Claire sagged against me, completely spent as her pain finally eased for a moment. They were coming one right after another now, without time for her to rest before the next one hit.

“He’s sure in a hurry,” she grumbled, echoing my own thoughts.

The midwife lifted her head and I repeated the sentiment in French. She chuckled softly, nodding reassuringly as she patted Claire’s thigh.

“He’ll be in your arms soon, mo chridhe,” I reassured her, praying it would be true.

She nodded, a shuddering moan leaving her lips as she was plunged into battle once more.

“Tha’s the way, Sorcha,” I encouraged as she began to push.

The midwife ducked her head to peer beneath the hem of Claire’s shift for a moment and helped my wife settle more fully into her task. They worked together, coaxing and crooning until they finally broke through to the other side.

“Fuck,” Claire moaned, sliding her eyes shut in exhaustion. “Damn you, James Fraser.”

My gut clenched at this and my heart dropped to the floor.

Watching you pay for the cost of my love is hell enough, my own.

“Oh, aye,” I hoarsely agreed and brushed a kiss across her temple, then more earnestly as she shifted against me and lifted her face towards mine.

“Take what ye need of me, mo ghraidh,” I hovered close. “I’ve got ye… I’m here.”

I tried to recall what had helped her before… my mind racing to remember what I’d said or done to give her comfort the first time. I could see her face better then, as she’d faced me, but there was something about supporting her in this way — holding her close as she gave everything within her to bring our second child into the world – that made it all entirely new.

I felt her stiffen in my arms and I laced my fingers through hers as she dove in, head first back into the storm… but she had a new spirit, a strength that had been all but gone not a moment before.

“Good!” the midwife exclaimed, beaming. “Here he comes!”

Her head disappeared completely from sight as she tucked Claire’s shift up around her hips and out of the way as she readied herself to guide my son into the world.

Claire’s nails bit into the tops of my thighs as the midwife guided her through the pain until she suddenly collapsed against me, a choking, strangled cry exploding from her lips.

“Well done, my dear!!” she cheered.

“A dhia, no chridhe,” I murmured, placing a kiss atop her head. “How verra braw ye are.

But my pride quickly turned to panic as the next pain started and I felt something change within Claire… the heels of her hands pushed against the tops of my thighs as her voice rose, twisting and clawing at the ceiling.

The midwife turned away from my wife for the first time since she’d arrived and beckoned wildly to the other woman in the shadows. Her assistant was at her side in an instant and she addressed me — not Claire — as urgency contorted her face.

“We need to move her,” she instructed. “She needs to lay back.”

I nodded and quickly moved to do her bidding, supporting Claire’s shoulders as I helped her lay against the make-shift pillows behind her.

Claire cried out again as they drew her knees up towards her chest, the knife edge of her scream flaying me wide open as I hovered above her. Her gaze grew distant, her face contorting as she writhed in pain.

“Sorcha.”

My hand trembled as much as my voice as I tried to reach her in her agony. 

“Sorcha, look at me,” I begged, my hands cradling her face.

“Please.”

Her eyes were wide, staring right past me as she screamed again.

Turn… Shoulder…

I could only catch fragments of the women’s words, but the next made my blood run cold.

Stuck.

I slipped my hand beneath Claire’s head and I leaned forward, bringing her lips to mine in a desperate attempt to keep her at my side.

Mary, Michael, and Bride — help her!

She trembled in my arms as I pulled away, but her gaze finally found mine for a moment as I hovered above her.

“Stay wi’ me, Sorcha,” I begged.

Claire jerked suddenly and let out a bloodcurdling shout, going completely limp in my arms. I frantically looked over my shoulder, but my plea for help stopped short at the sight of a bairn squirming in the midwife’s hands.

She looked up and beamed at me, announcing, “You have another son.”

My heart soared and the tears flowed freely down my cheeks as I turned back to Claire.

“He’s here, mo ghraidh,” I murmured as I felt her hand stir on my arm, her eyes closed.

I brushed a kiss across her brow and she lifted her hand to my neck. Her eyelids flickered and she blinked up at me.

Wee noises began to sound from behind me and I watched as the chiseled lines of pain immediately left her face and she was transformed with a curious, eager joy. She turned her head, trying to see around me, and I moved out of her way.

The bairn’s wee squawking turned into a loud, hearty cry and Claire reached out  for him. The midwife eagerly obliged and gently placed him within reach beside her.

She sighed heavily as her fingers brushed against the top of his head, skimming down each limb and finding him whole.

“Ye’ve done it, mo chridhe,” I swallowed hard, my voice breaking as a slow, weary smile lit her face.

“They’re both here.”

I could hear the midwife moving behind me, her hands flitting into view as she readied to cut the bairn’s cord.

The next moment she lifted him, easing him off the mattress and settled him on Claire’s chest.

I heard Claire’s breath catch, then release in a contented sigh as she held him close for the first time. Her hand trembled as her fingers traced the curve of his brow.

“He’s perfect,” she murmured in awe.

I couldn’t help but agree, nodding slowly as I added, “An’ sae wee.”

Her face changed, worry creeping into her eyes as she looked up and scanned the shadows just beyond us.

“Murtagh?” Her voice broke as she called out to him.

I could make out his dark shape as he moved at once, answering back “Aye, a leannan… I’m here.”

He quickly crossed the room and knelt beside us, his eyes bright and cheeks wet.

“Thank you,” I swallowed hard as I lifted Brian back into my arms. “Thank you for holding him close, ghoistidh.”

One corner of his lips lifted in acknowledgement, but he didn’t reply. His hand lingered on the bairn for a moment as I settled Brian more securely in my arms, then moved out of the way as I turned back to Claire.

I shifted beside her, moving Brian until his head was near his brother’s.

My heart soared as I saw them side by side for the first time. Claire’s hand moved to rest on Brian, looking from one to the other as she studied their faces.

“Wha’ will ye name him, then?”

Murtagh’s voice was so low that I almost didn’t hear him.

I looked up to find him beaming down at the miracle before him… the biggest smile I’d ever seen stretching across his face.

“Henry,” I whispered hoarsely. “Henry an’ Brian.”